Silken Rapture (Princes of the Underground 2)

“Morshiel won’t bother to return to the British Museum tunnel. He knows I wouldn’t leave the crystal there. We’ll increase our guard along the Bakerloo line. My gut tells me that’s where Morshiel and the revenants will strike next,” Blaise said, giving the map a brisk tap with his forefinger.

“That quake we experienced weeks ago must have somehow loosened it from the deepest veins of the earth. You and I both know how much vitessence that crystal gives off. Morshiel would do anything to possess it. Surely he’ll send a scouting party to the British Museum at the very least,” Aubrey replied from where he sat on the couch, long limbs akimbo.

“No. He won’t.”

“How can you know that with a certainty?” Aubrey asked amusedly.

Blaise shrugged and turned to stoke the fire. Aubrey’s structure for evacuating smoke underground was the least of the wonders of his friend’s ingenious design of Sanctuary.

“Morshiel and I came from the same mother cell,” Blaise said flatly as he shoved the poker into the flames.

Aubrey made a predictable scoffing sound. “Perhaps, but you are as different as a human is to a raptor.”

Blaise glanced over his shoulder. “Which one am I supposed to be in your analogy. Both are deadly beasts, aren’t they?”

Aubrey rolled his eyes in exasperation. “You miss my point entirely. I’m just saying that you might not always perfectly intuit Morshiel’s plans just because you’re clones. You’ve had centuries to differentiate yourselves, after all, and have done so markedly. Consider this,” Aubrey said, holding up his hand in a bid for reason when Blaise tossed the poker into its holder with a loud clang and turned to his friend. “What if Morshiel suspects that you might leave the crystal in the tunnel in order to lure him? And he sacrifices a scouting party of revenants because he desires knowledge of the crystal’s whereabouts so greatly?”

“No,” Blaise repeated as he paced like a caged lion in front of the fire. “Morshiel knows I would never take even the tiniest risk in the matter. He knows I wouldn’t play games with that crystal. Have you been excavating in the vicinity where the crystal was found, like I asked?”

“Yes, the crystal definitely came from that location. It wasn’t relocated there by Morshiel.”

Blaise paused. “And is there any indication there could be more of them?”

Aubrey shook his head. “It is a single anomaly…a rare miracle. Have you spoken to Saint? Did he tell you how he knew the crystal would be there?”

Blaise shook his head. “He somehow sensed the unusual electromagnetic pulse. Or someone did.”

“What is it, Blaise?” Aubrey asked, his eyes narrowed.

Blaise shrugged. “Something is amiss with Saint. He’s not being honest.”

“You don’t trust Saint?” Aubrey asked, obviously stunned. Blaise understood why. All of the Sevliss princes were as close as brothers, despite the fact that they were scattered across the globe. Blaise trusted the five other princes more than any other creatures on the planet, for they were more than brothers. In a sense, the six of them were their own unique race. None of them were certain of their origins on this planet. All of them had come to consciousness as they were at present, recalling no childhood. Each of them possessed a Magian overlord, a super-powerful being who had created each prince—to what purpose, none of them understood.

One thing was a certainty—the biological mandate set into the princes’ very blood to control their bloodthirsty clones. They could not vanquish their clones, although their clones could murder them at any time. Every time Blaise fought Morshiel, it was a mortal battle.

Or at least it used to be a given for them that they could not conquer their clones. It had been a universal reality until Saint eradicated Teslar in some fashion that remained an utter mystery to the remaining princes.

“I do trust Saint. I just can’t understand why he’s being so secretive ever since he vanquished Teslar,” he said, frustration tingeing his tone. “We have always shared information on the best ways to control our clones. Now Saint has done the impossible and destroyed Teslar, but he won’t tell us how. It’s incomprehensible, not to mention frustrating as hell,” he muttered roughly under his breath.

“Perhaps he’s keeping other secrets as well. Like why you can touch the woman when none of us can?”

The logs in the fireplace crackled in the silence that followed.

“Perhaps Saint is being prevented from speaking on the matter. Perhaps the Magian are prohibiting it somehow,” Aubrey said thoughtfully.

“I’m starting to suspect the same thing,” Blaise replied bitterly. Like the rest of his Sevliss brethren, he didn’t appreciate being treated like nothing more than a lab rat for the Magian Council’s incomprehensible aims. He resumed pacing, his thoughts once again on the miraculous discovery of the crystal. “I can’t explain it. Ever since Saint vanquished Teslar, it’s as if…everything is changing among us.”

Aubrey leaned back on the couch, his expression thoughtful. “Morphic resonance.”

“Excuse me?”

Aubrey’s gaze sharpened on him. “Morphic resonance. It’s a theory put forth by a man named Rupert Sheldrake, concerning what he calls a morphic field, which each member of a given species can tap into for knowledge. A monkey learns to wash sand from a yam before she eats it on one island. The race knowledge is translated by means of the morphic field not just to the monkey’s brethren on her island, but to monkeys on a separate island. All of the monkeys begin using the same skill, even though they’ve never had direct physical contact. Most scientists think it’s a bunch of supernatural crock, but as I possess the major advantage of knowledge in regard to energy and the life force in regard to nature,” Aubrey gave a little flourish with his hand, “I happen to differ on the matter. You yourself have said the Sevliss princes are a singular species. Perhaps whatever happened to Saint and Teslar in Chicago can change the other princes, even if Saint is being prohibited from telling exactly what that ‘something’ is.”

Blaise thought this over as he paced, but was still left frustrated with his lack of knowledge. “I’m in Saint’s debt for tipping me off about the crystal, even if he isn’t being completely honest with me. Imagine the havoc Morshiel could have created with it. I will never let him have it.”

“Or the woman?”

Blaise glanced sharply at his friend. Aubrey sprawled on the couch, a knowing look in his light gray eyes, comfortable within the bounds of their friendship.