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"I have sent some of our brothers to congregations around the country to
learn what we can of these men," Teryn continued. "Of where they come from and
what their purpose may be."
"We know what they want. They want our children!" one of the listeners
shouted.
"But we do not know why. Until we do, we don't know how to stop them."
"We'll kill the bastards, that's how we'll stop them," Connor said from his
wheelchair up front. Just released from the hospital, his face what Nathan
could see of it was sallow and drawn, but his voice was steady. The others
rallied around him.
Teryn waited for the hubbub to die down. "We must be vigilant to keep our
sons safe, that is certain. We'll need every pair of eyes, every able body.
Which brings me to the next order of business tonight. A petition to the
elders." He nodded respectfully to his right, then his left, then raised his
chin.
"A petition to reinstate Nathan Cross to the congregation."
The flutter of a hummingbird's wings would have sounded like a jet engine in
the silence of the room. A moment stretched into an eternity.
"Has he repented of his refusal to accept our ways?" Elder Price finally
asked, his heavy white brows drawn together to form a single, unbroken line
across his forehead.
Teryn turned to the elder on his far right. "He has taken a mate."
The crowd murmured again. A surge of adrenaline set a jackhammer to work in
Nathan's chest, and it took him a moment to realize it was his heart trying to
pound its way through his ribs.
"Leave Rachel out of this," he said. He shoved his way to the front of the
crowd. Screw the rules. He didn't care if theysaw him or not.
They were sure as hell going to hear him.
In the front of the room he faced the congregation. "I didn't ask for this
petition. I don't want it."
"Is the woman willing to bear him a son?" Elder Price asked as if Nathan
weren't there.
"I said leave her out of this. She " Nathan started to wheel as he spoke, but
a movement in the corner of the room caught his attention. A cloaked figure
drew back a heavy hood, and Nathan's heart slammed to the pit of his stomach.
"Rachel."
She winked at him with one blazing emerald eye as she strolled serenely
through the mass of ogling men. Never in the history ofLes Gargouillen , as
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far as Nathan knew, had a woman attended Council.
"The woman" she cut a hard look at Elder Price when she reached the front "is
willing to bear him as many sons, and daughters, as he wants."
Her voice softened as she stopped chest to chest with Nathan and met his
dumbstruck stare. "As long as they raise them together."
A few of the men gasped out loud. Others frowned, or shrugged and scratched
their heads.
"This is outrageous." Price's cheeks reddened as he blustered. "It's unheard
of!"
"It's not unheard of," she answered, but her gaze never left Nathan. "There
is precedent. My father was "
Her breath hitched. The words caught in her throat, and Nathan sent her a
gentle mental brush. A caress of reassurance. Of strength.
"My father was one of you. He was one of the Old Ones, the original Gargoyles
of Rouen."
Heads turned all around the room. Men whispered to each other.
"It's true," Teryn said. "I've spoken to the Wizenot of Damien Paré's that's
Rachel's biological father congregation personally. He's substantiated the
story. Damien had broken from the congregation. The Wizenot at the time didn't
know where he'd gone. But he did know he'd had a child before he left. A
little girl."
The room hushed.
He'd also had a son, Nathan thought. Rachel had figured out quickly that
meant her father might very well have already reincarnated. With so few
Gargoyle children being born, it wasn't a certainty. There simply weren't
enough bodies for all the souls waiting. But Nathan knew she would want to
find out. She would want to look for him.
"He married my mother and stayed with her even after I was born," Rachel
continued. "Even after my brother was born."
"She has a brother," one man mumbled. "The son of an Old One."
The man next to him nodded.
Her lips trembled. Nathan reached for her, but she held him back with a look.
"Best we can piece together from old newspaper articles, he lived with his
family in peace until one day he saw a neighbor child fall through the ice of
a pond. He saved the boy, but unfortunately some of his neighbors saw the
Awakening. They killed him because they were afraid of what he was."
The buzz of whispers around the room rose, subsided.
"What I am," she finished, lifting her chin. "I am of the blood of one of the
Old Ones," she said, "and I want to amend the petition." Her gaze blazed
around the room. "I petition the Council to restore Nathan Cross and his mate,
Rachel Paré, to the congregation."
"A woman?" someone asked.
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"This is blasphemy," Price said. "It's indecent!"
Connor looked up from his wheelchair, and Nathan couldn't tell if the
expression on his swollen face was a smirk or a smile. Maybe a little of both.
"I call the petition to vote," he said.
"I second the call."
Nathan turned his head and got a nod from Ethan Keller, Rhys's father, and
Patrick's grandfather. Ethan had been away the day of the fire and, to
Nathan's knowledge, had never met Rachel, but he was sure the man had been
told what she'd done for his grandson.
Teryn held up both hands to quiet the room. "The petition's been called and
seconded."
Nathan looked back at Rachel. "You don't have to do this."
This time he was pretty sure the look on Connor's face was a grin. "Shut up,
Nathan."
"All in favor?" Teryn called.
Connor and Ethan's hands struck upward, but no one else moved. By tradition,
Teryn couldn't vote except to break a tie.
Seconds passed, but Rachel kept her head high, giving away none of the
anxiety she felt churning in her mind, until one by one, every man in the
room, even Elder Price, held one hand in the air.
Standing before the massive window in the darkenedliving room of his
condominium, Nathan couldn't help but think what an amazing night it had been.
What an amazing woman Rachel Vandermere now Rachel Paré had turned out to be.
Not so long ago he'd stood in this very spot and his eyes had been drawn to
the still, black waters of Lake Michigan. He'd longed for the peace of a place
like that. The everlasting darkness. Now when he looked out, his eyes weren't
drawn to the darkness, but to the light. The life. The crossword-puzzle, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]