Page 2 of Unbroken (Rath & Rune #4)

“Hello, son. Did you miss me?”

Vesper Rune froze. He stood in one of the staff corridors of the Nathaniel R.

Ladysmith Museum, having just emerged from the third floor men’s washroom—which, through a quirk of the architecture, was the easiest to reach from the first floor entrance to the library.

He’d been lost in thought, worrying about the birthday party being held at the Endicott manor tonight.

His guard down, mind tricking him into thinking he was safe.

But safety, for him, was an illusion. At least when his mother was skulking about.

He turned to face her slowly. Lenore Rune waited in an alcove that served no conceivable purpose, except maybe to give people somewhere to lurk.

She wore a serge dress dyed a deep shade of plum: practical attire that wouldn’t stand out amidst the bustling staff of the museum.

The electric lights, widely spaced in this corridor far from public view, glinted from the silver in her hair as she tilted her head.

His heart pounded, but he kept his expression neutral from long practice. There was no point in asking how she’d gained admittance; he only hoped she hadn’t killed anyone in the process.

“I’ve hardly had time to miss you, given how recently we encountered one another,” he replied.

She pouted, but the expression had an edge of cruelty to it, as all of hers did. “You’re a terrible child. Where’s your little friend, Mortimer? I did like him.”

A threat, delivered with all the sweetness of a mother talking to a five-year-old. Not that she’d ever been sweet to him or his brother, every treat laced with poison.

He ignored her question; best to divert her attention from anyone but him. He didn’t think she’d kill him, and if she tried…well, he was a great deal more hardy than anyone purely human. Even she might find it difficult to end his life.

“Did you want something?” he asked, striving to keep his tone level.

“Besides seeing my oldest child?” She emerged from the alcove and reached out with hands tipped with long nails.

He tried not to flinch when she cupped his face in them, the sharp points lightly pricking the skin below his eyes.

“My very, very ungrateful son, who hasn’t even thanked me yet for winnowing the ranks of the School of Night. ”

The words lay like stones in his mouth. “Thank you, Mother.”

“There, was that so hard?” She dropped her hands back to her sides. “Speaking of that ridiculous cult, they’re very angry right now. All of their leaders are dead, except for the Chancellor.”

The woman they suspected of killing Sebastian’s mother in an aborted attempt to get her hands on the Book of Flesh. “I’m sure she’ll be next.”

Mother’s smile took on a feral edge. “That’s my boy. I suggest you act quickly, find the last Book before she can. The Book of Blood, isn’t it?”

Her interest put his hackles up. The Books were powerful artifacts, necromantically created from the remains of four siblings. If she got her hands on one, things would go very badly indeed.

Despite his efforts, he must have let something slip, because she tapped his lower lip with one daggerlike nail. “Now, now, don’t worry. This is your and your brother’s project. I’m simply here to help, as any good mother would be.”

A good mother, who’d left scars on his back after whipping him with a silver-tipped flogger. A part of him wanted to laugh, another to cry.

“What do you know?” he asked instead.

“Dear Fagerlie was an idiot, but he talked a great deal before he died. With suitable persuasion, of course.” She smiled as if at a fond memory.

“The Professor, as he styled himself, had studied up and acquired some theories as to what gifts the Books might offer those who stumble upon them. Do you know what blood is used for in magic?”

He was no sorcerer, and she knew it. “Enlighten me.”

“There are many potential uses, of course—don’t mistake me on that. But the most common is in spells meant to control.”

Sebastian had received…gifts was probably not the right word.

Powers, then, from being Bound to the three Books they’d already discovered.

The Book of Breath in particular allowed him to compel others to tell him the truth.

But it sounded as though Mother was talking about a much deeper level of coercion.

“I see.”

“I only tell you this as a warning.” She cocked her head. “Though I don’t know whether it would work on you. Most sorcery doesn’t, after all. So perhaps it’s only your human companions you need to worry about.”

Was it truly a warning, or a threat? Both, most likely. “Thank you for the information.”

“Of course.” She drew back. “I should let you return to your work. And have a lovely time at the party tonight.”

* * *

“She knew we were going to the Endicott manor tonight?” Nocturn Rune asked in alarm. “How? Has she been talking to someone? Following us? No, not just following, she wouldn’t have known about the party. Has she subverted one of the Endicotts?”

Sebastian Rath sat in the back of a horse-drawn coach, beside Ves and across from Noct.

All of them were dressed in evening wear, although in Noct’s case that amounted only to an embroidered smock and cloak, since most other clothing couldn’t be tailored to his myriad tentacles.

The coach rolled smoothly along the side of the lake in front of what had been the Somerby Estate in his childhood and was now occupied by the Endicotts.

The waning moon hadn’t yet risen, but the stars glittered overhead in their thousands.

“I don’t know,” Ves said, and the defeat in his voice tugged at Sebastian’s heart. “She says she wants to help us, but…”

“All of her actions are, shall we say, threatening,” Sebastian finished when Ves trailed off into silence. “Blast. I’m sorry I wasn’t with you at the time, angel.”

Ves took Sebastian’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “She wanted to get me alone. And honestly, I’d just as soon keep you as far away from her as possible.”

Sebastian frowned, a bit miffed at Ves’s words. Ves wanted to protect him, which Sebastian understood, considering he wanted to protect his love in turn. But thanks to the Books, he wasn’t as helpless as Ves seemed to think.

The Books of the Bound. A part of him wished he’d never heard of the damned things, though of course they were what had brought Ves into his life.

The Books were made from Sebastian’s own kin—four necromancers, who came to Widdershins from Ipswich seeking a way to resurrect their dead brother, Gregorio Hollowell.

A rumored vampire, and Sebastian’s own great-grandfather.

Then…something happened. What, Sebastian didn’t know, only that his great-granduncles and aunts had their bodies taken apart under the blazing light of Halley’s Comet, the remains made into four unholy books: the Book of Flesh, Book of Breath, Book of Bone, and Book of Blood.

Who had done this to them was an unanswered question, though his money was on Gregorio’s wife and his great-grandmother, Lydia Hollowell.

What evil the Books had wrought at the time, he hadn’t yet discovered.

At some point, they ended up in the hands of two men determined to put an end to their fell power: Nathaniel R.

Ladysmith, founder of the very museum Sebastian now worked in, and Alexander Dromgoole, an architect and Ladysmith’s lover.

Unfortunately, the best they’d been able to do was Bind the Books to Dromgoole in an effort to contain their power, then seal them away in four buildings designed to act as three-dimensional spirit wards.

The museum was one; Sebastian’s childhood home had been another.

Dromgoole died raving in a madhouse for his efforts, and the Books lay dormant…

until Halley’s Comet had returned this very May.

Now three were Bound to Sebastian and contained within the museum library. The fourth, they were still seeking—as was a cabal of sorcerers who styled themselves the School of Night.

One upside was the Books had given him arcane powers, a new one with each Binding. Even Ves had admitted these new abilities were useful, yet he still felt Sebastian needed his protection.

But that was surely natural—when you loved someone, you wanted to keep them safe. He squeezed Ves’s hand in return and gave him a fond smile.

As they rounded the lake, the Endicott manor came into view, every window ablaze, the lights reflecting like earth-bound stars in the restless water. Ves tensed beside him, even as Noct peered out the window.

The Endicott family was possibly even more complicated than Sebastian’s own, and that was saying something. They were exceedingly powerful and very dangerous. Up until a scant few years ago, they had seen it as their mission to slaughter what they considered to be the monsters of this world.

Dark Young—hybrid offspring of a human and the All-Mother, Lord of the Forest, also known as the Black Goat with a Thousand Young—were on that list. A mere decade ago, Noct and Ves would have been their bitter enemies.

But that same decade ago, Noct and Ves had been part of a cult intending to enslave humanity. Noct would have ruled over the ruins of civilization, after Ves cleared the way.

Circumstances changed, sometimes swiftly.

The last time they’d been here, the atmosphere had been the sort of welcome that’s only a hair away from violence.

Now, Irene swore there would be no trouble after the head of the household, Rupert Endicott, indicated support for Noct’s relationship with her.

The other side of the coin was that the rest of the family would have fallen on them had Rupert decided differently.

What if Noct’s speculation was right, and one of the Endicotts had turned traitor? From what he understood, it would hardly be the first time. For all their protestations of family unity, they’d spilled one another’s blood before.

Perhaps complicated was an understatement.

“We have to warn Irene,” Sebastian said. “That someone might have been in contact with your wretched mother, I mean.”

Noct put a tentacle over his eyes in a gesture of despair. “Gods of the wood, she’ll never want to marry me now. Er, I mean…if the matter should come up…”

“You’re going to propose?” Sebastian asked, delighted. He loved weddings, having been at all three of his sister’s.

“Well, certainly not tonight!” A look of panic flashed across Noct’s face. “I don’t want Rupert mad at me for upstaging his birthday.”

The brooding expression vanished from Ves’s face, and he leaned forward to embrace his brother. “I’m so happy for you.”

“She hasn’t said yes—I haven’t even asked.”

Sebastian snorted. “Oh, come now. Irene is hardly a reticent woman who keeps her mind to herself. I think we all know what her answer will be.”

The carriage rolled to a halt in front of the manor. Irene herself waited for them on the steps, wearing a V-necked sapphire gown, her black hair neatly pinned up to expose the brown column of her neck. Her dark eyes lit up, and she hurried down the stairs as a footman swung open the carriage door.

Noct descended in a swarm of tentacles, took her hand, and kissed it as though he were an old-fashioned gentleman. “May I speak with you privately for a moment, dearest?”

Her happy expression faded at his tone. “Yes. Of course.”

They withdrew a few feet, and Irene crouched down as best she could given the slim skirts currently in fashion, combined with the fact that she herself was anything but slim.

Sebastian considered offering Ves his arm, then decided against it.

If the Endicotts turned on them—unlikely, but not impossible—they’d both want their hands free.

Irene rose, a dark cloud over her features that promised a storm. “Follow me. Rupert needs to hear this at once.”

* * *

The opulence of the Endicott manor seemed to press in on Ves like a trap made from gold, marble, and jewels.

Irene led them through a series of halls paneled in oak, and he noted the various chokepoints that would allow defenders to bring an invading force to a standstill.

As the family had gutted the old manor and remade it in their own image when moving in, he could only assume the design was deliberate.

Eventually, she swung open a door that let onto what appeared to be a small study.

Three of the walls held built-in bookshelves, all of them crammed full of various texts.

The fourth was pierced with two tall windows to either side of a modest fireplace.

A desk stood with its back to the hearth, stacked with more books and boasting a small globe.

Rupert sat behind the desk, shuffling through some paperwork. The gold rims of his glasses gleamed against dark brown skin, and strands of silver showed in his tightly curled hair. He sat back and raised a brow at them. “I assume this couldn’t wait until after dinner, Irene?”

“I’m afraid not, Seeker,” she said, invoking his official title within the family.

His demeanor shifted subtly, becoming more formal. “What is this about?”

“Our mother knew we were coming here, tonight, for a party,” Ves answered, since he’d been the one to talk to her. “None of us would tell her such a thing, so someone else did.”

Rupert’s handsome face creased into a frown. “I see. Lenore Rune, yes? And your grandfather is Ora?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Rupert gazed into nothing for a moment, as if considering his next words. “I will make inquiries,” he said at last, but didn’t elaborate on what those inquiries would consist of.

“Can we be of any help?” Noct asked.

“Not at the moment. I am the Seeker of Truth, the only head of the family now, and it is my duty to handle this matter. Especially if one of us has turned traitor.” Rupert rose to his feet, smoothing away all traces of concern from his face.

“Let us join the others in the solarium. I should hate to be late for my own party.”