WolfeBlade: de Wolfe Pack Generations by Kathryn Veque (top 20 books to read .TXT) 📗

a great power on the border,” he finally said. “I see a wolf’s head. The House of de Wolfe rules the border. But I see a new power arising from the gates of Hell. A new power from the west.”

Nicholas couldn’t hold back his excitement. “Us?” he asked. “Is it us?”

True Thomas turned the bowl, watching the contents congeal. “It will not be without great cost,” he said. “Blood must be spilled for this to happen. A sacrifice.”

John looked at the old man. “What kind of sacrifice?”

True Thomas didn’t answer right away. He kept turning the bowl, watching the patterns emerge, scraping it with his dirty nail until everything was a jumbled mess at the bottom. Then, he closed his eyes and lowered his head as if praying over the bowl.

John and Nicholas watched curiously. It seemed to them that the old prophet wasn’t even breathing at that point. He simply kept his head down, his eyes closed, and meditated. When they thought they could stand no longer, he lifted his head and opened eyes that were the color of clouds. Normally, the man had brown eyes but, at this moment, they were cloudy and gray. It was enough to cause John and Nicholas to step back, their curiosity now mingled with fear.

“A child must be sacrificed,” True Thomas said hoarsely. “An infant of de Soulis blood, as that is the blood that must be spilled at the ring of the nine stones. Take the child to the stones at summer solstice and spill the blood upon the stones. Bury the body to feed the stones, to nourish the dominion of demons, and the House of de Soulis shall rise against the wolf. The brimstone of Ba’al Zebub shall be your strength. Do this and everything you seek shall be yours.”

With that, his head slumped and he pitched forward, collapsing on the table. John and Nicholas simply stood there, watching him with a good deal of surprise at his prophesy but without much concern for True Thomas himself. In fact, they made no move to help him. They simply looked at one another in awe.

“An infant,” John repeated. “We need a child of de Soulis blood. But we have no child.”

Nicholas looked at him. “Not now,” he said. “But that will not be difficult. I can create one.”

John eyed his brutal, lawless son, a man so vile that at forty years and one, he had never married. No decent family would give a daughter to him. But hearing his son’s words, he knew what the man meant.

Creating a child wasn’t difficult for a determined man.

If no one would give him a daughter, then he’d find one.

“How?” he said. “Do you intend to find some hapless woman to impregnate?”

Nicholas nodded, clearly cooking up at idea. “Grandfather did it.”

John conceded the point. “He did, but he had other reasons.”

“And I have mine,” Nicholas said. “It is the perfect solution, really. True Thomas says we need a child of de Soulis blood, so I simply find a woman to bear my child. When it is born, it shall belong to me. It is really very simple.”

John scratched his head. “Possibly,” he said. “Mayhap a woman we do not know or does not know our family name. Obviously, we cannot tell her what the child is for. Will you marry her?”

Nicholas snorted. “I do not have to marry a woman in order to beget her with child.”

That was true, but John wasn’t clear on what his son meant. “Then mayhap it should be something simple, like a servant or a farmer’s daughter,” he said. “Pay her well enough and she will agree to bear the child. Will you bring her here to have the child, then?”

Nicholas shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “She may have it wherever she wishes, but I will return to claim it. Call it a business transaction and nothing more. She shall be my breeding stock. When we pay for a finely bred horse, the horse does not have born under our roof, does it?”

John shook his head. “It does not.”

Nicholas turned away from the table, heading towards the fire as it continued to spit smoke and sparks into the hall. As he stared into the flames pensively, True Thomas let out a groan and lifted his head. John and Nicholas looked to him, somewhat anxiously, wondering if there was more to come.

“This child,” John said. “This sacrifice – must it come from anyone special? May we select the woman or will we be given a sign as to who it may be?”

True Thomas’ eyes were still cloudy as he stared at the distant wall, unblinking. “Where the dead and the water meet,” he said. “The dead and the water is her belonging.”

His eyes closed and his head tilted to one side. When he began breathing heavily, John and Nicholas looked at each other.

“What does that mean?” Nicholas said, frustrated. “The dead and the water?”

John looked at him, puzzled. “The dead and the water,” he muttered slowly. “A church? A cemetery? There is one near us, near a brook.”

Nicholas shook his head. “A woman would not be at a church,” he said. “Unless he means we should find her there as she worships?”

John snorted. “All we would find at that church are women who know who you are and would never enter into an agreement with you.”

“I do not need their agreement. I simply need a woman of breeding age.”

The comment didn’t bother John. Coming from Nicholas, it was normal. It was also truthful. They were literally prepared to make a deal with the devil for what they felt was their due, their right, and a reluctant female wasn’t going to stand in their way. They’d waited quite some time for the prophesy from True Thomas and now that they had it, they were going to make sure they did everything in their power to ensure that it became truth.

A blood sacrifice meant nothing to them.

Not even of their own blood.

Therefore,