Keeper of the Dawn

blamed.” If they wanted to play a game of lies, he and Brodie could play it just as well.

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Alan said. “Still, search wherever you want to, Detectives. We’ll be in the parlor, if you need anything.”

“And, of course, though we’re down a butler, I do know how to brew tea, so let me know if any of your people would like a bit of refreshment,” Brigitte offered.

“That’s kind of you,” Mark said. He nodded to Brodie to stay with the family while he put through the call to the lieutenant.

“Detective,” Charlaine said, “why don’t you join me—I’ll help you search my quarters first.”

“Sure, I’ll get some officers,” he said.

He was startled when she brushed past him and tripped. When he bent to help her, she whispered to him, “I need to see you alone.”

Curious, Mark followed her up the stairs to her second-floor suite.

* * *

Rhiannon returned to the house while the others were making plans. When she heard what they’d come up with, she said incredulously, “So we’re going to break into the Hildegard tomb, somehow remove Sebastian from his sarcophagus and burn him to ash. And by some miracle no one is going to notice this?”

“Well, we’re going to need Mark’s and Brodie’s help,” Alessande said.

“Two cops—great. There go their careers if we’re caught,” Rhiannon said.

“Have you got a better plan?” Barrie asked her.

Rhiannon considered it. “No,” she admitted. “So tell me—how are we going to execute this plan, and, once it’s accomplished, how do we find Regina?”

“We’ve got to keep it entirely secret—that’s the only way to keep Regina safe,” Alessande said. “We need to send the men into the tomb, so you, Sailor, Barrie and I will have to stay outside and stand watch.”

“I’ll be something very small—like a caterpillar. I’m good at caterpillars,” Barrie said. “That way, if there is trouble, I can get into the tomb unseen and warn the guys to get out. It’s risky, but it’s a risk I think we need to take, given everything we’ve found out.”

“We’ll all need to be prepared to step forward and mesmerize anyone who stumbles on us,” Alessande told Rhiannon and Sailor. “Between us, we should be able to handle who- and whatever comes our way.”

“Unless it’s the entire Cult of Tyr,” Sailor said.

Rhiannon groaned softly. “Do Brodie and Mark know about this plan yet?”

“No,” Alessande said. “And I think we’d better wait and tell them in person, don’t you?”

In answer, Rhiannon only groaned again.

* * *

As soon as they reached her room, Charlaine dropped the coquettish-flirt act. She closed the door behind her. “I don’t know what’s going on,” she swore. “But it’s not going on in our family. Alan isn’t lying to you—he doesn’t want Sebastian coming back from the dead. He likes being head of the family. Brigitte...Brigitte follows Alan’s lead, because she doesn’t like doing any actual work. As long as Alan keeps everything going, she’s a happy camper. I have to admit, I’m not fond of work myself. I am fond of dancing at the Snake Pit, enjoying lunch at the Beverley Hills Hotel and shopping on Rodeo Drive. I like this house, Mark. I like living big and rich in Hollywood.”

“In that case, can you tell me how James Laughton, your butler and a human being, wound up dealing Transymil—street name XF—a drug previously confined to the Otherworld?”

“I don’t know—I swear, I don’t know. I never heard anything about any of this until those women were found dead. And then you and your partner swooped into the family tomb and arrested a bunch of people I’d never even heard of, much less met. Honestly—I’m telling you the truth. And I’m begging you to believe me, because you have to find who’s really out there killing, because—”

She broke off and stared at him—an entirely different woman from the one who had behaved as if she couldn’t wait to jump his bones.

“Because of what?”

She inhaled. “Because I believe that Sebastian can be brought back from the grave—and because he shouldn’t be.” She shuddered. “I’ve studied the journals he left, and...I know that he murdered a woman before he died. I know that he murdered her with his own hands, that he drank a pint of her blood and covered his body with another pint. And I know that it will take the murder—the sacrifice—of another woman to bring him back to life.”

“A blue-eyed blonde?”

She hesitated again. She straightened. “You’re not going to want any of your human forensic specialists to find this,” she said. As she spoke, she walked over to the medieval-style headboard of her bed and twisted one of the carved rosettes.

He heard a soft whir and watched as one of the walls—at exactly the point where the wallpaper and paneling met, a place he doubted their best experts would have discovered—opened to reveal shelves filled with books, many of them ancient.

Charlaine selected one and handed it to him. “It’s Sebastian’s diary,” she said. “It chronicles his discovery that he had cancer, his desperate search for a cure...and how he stumbled upon a book of the ancients and the Cult of Tyr.”

“Tyr?” Mark said, frowning.

“In Norse mythology he was one of the strongest of the gods. He sacrificed his hand to the wolf Fenrir in order to see him bound and secured so he could do no more harm. But the key point about his modern followers is that they believed they could attain eternal life through sacrifice to him. Listen to me, Mark,” she said earnestly. “Do I know for a fact that Sebastian can come back? No. But I believe that he believed it. And he dabbled in devil worship, as well. But I still don’t believe that either Alan or Brigitte is involved. All I know is that this started three months ago when Greg Swayze brought that screenplay to Alan. I just don’t know why, or what the connection is.”

“Then we need to let the experts see what James Laughton left behind, and you and I need to have a long talk with Alan,” Mark told her.

* * *

They had assembled what they were going to need. Everyone had changed into black clothing, and they were ready with kerosene, flashlights, crowbars, chisels and hammers. And matches.

Alessande was making a final check of their supplies when the door to Castle House opened, and Brodie and Mark walked in.

“What are you doing?” Mark asked.

Alessande looked at him and took a deep breath. “We’re going to break into the Hildegard tomb,” she told him, then rushed ahead with the rest of her speech before he had a chance to object. “We’re going to steal Sebastian Hildegard’s body and burn it. Declan shifted and flew over to run reconnaissance and make sure the coast is clear.”

Mark walked over to her, smiling, and tenderly touched her cheek. “We’re not going to break into the Hildegard tomb.”

“We are. We have to. And you have to hear what we’ve found out. When Sebastian was dying, he founded a mystical cult dedicated to the Norse god Tyr because he thought he’d found a way to cheat the cancer that was killing him and come back from the dead. Even though he was never charged, it looks like he murdered a woman so he could use her blood in the ritual he’d dreamed up. We believe she was —”

“Elven,” Mark said.

Frowning, Alessande nodded. “Yes, and we think the two women killed so far were for practice, so they could be sure they had the ritual down pat.”

“Or maybe the resurrection calls for two human sacrifices before the final sacrifice, which has to be an Elven,” Mark said.

“That’s possible, too. At any rate, it’s clear that Sebastian was evil and it would be bad news if he came back to life, so if we get rid of his body, we eliminate that threat. But we have to do it in secret because they’re still holding Regina, and we need them to keep her alive until we can rescue her. If they know Sebastian’s body