by Laney McMann
Heru tilted his head, taking her in. “Does it usually just happen?”
“No.”
Cole stood and slid an arm around her waist. “You okay?”
“I think so.” She found his hand and gripped it tighter than she normally would.
“Anamolia,” Heru said, “Please tell me what happened. Shifting without meaning to, and I as the falcon,” he smiled at Cole, “would know a thing or two about it, doesn’t just happen. It is a matter of will. Or will not.”
“They were going to attack Cole, all of them, if he killed the Shadow that spoke first,” she said, a hand on her stomach. “I could feel it. So, I stopped it—at first, anyway.”
“Ya could feel it?” Heru asked. “Where, exactly?”
Cole stared at her and reluctantly reached for Kade’s hand on her stomach. The lines snaking across it were glowing, as if she’d reached out, grabbed a volt of lightning, and held it. “She felt it here,” he said, facing Heru. “Same as mine.” He held up his hand.
“Yeah.” Kade released an uneven breath. “Like a severe burn.”
Heru’s eyes narrowed between them. “May I?” He stepped forward, his hand held out for Kade’s. She placed it palm up in his. “When did this come about?”
“A while ago,” she answered, as he traced the lines across her skin. “It …” she glanced at Cole and continued, “it was red at first, same as Cole’s.”
“I meant the color. When did it change?” Heru glanced at his nephew. “Who else knows of this?”
“Warden Caelius and the Ward’s doctor. Well,” he groaned, “well, Danny knows, too. Kade doesn’t carry a moonstone telum like all other Primeva,” he said, “and at first, I thought she was a Primeva—all of the Ward, except for Warden Caelius, and the few that know otherwise, believe she’s a Primeva for obvious reasons.”
“Obviously,” Heru conceded.
“Anyway, she doesn’t carry a moonstone, she carries a—“
“A fusionem crystal,” Heru supplied, still inspecting her hand. “Yes, continue.”
Cole glanced at Kade, but went on. “Well, if two opposing forces hold a fusionem crystal at the same time, it turns on, and the—“
“ … bearer is either Turned into a Primeva, as the Devil’s blood takes hold, the lines fade, doing nothing, or the bearer is Turned into an Anamolia.” Heru let Kade’s hand go. “I have read the texts concerning amalgamations.”
“Would you rather tell this story then?” Cole snapped.
“Tell me about the color,” he said.
“It was red, like Kade said, at first. Then, a day ago, it turned white. Now this.” Cole held out his arm and pulled his sleeve up. “Mine is larger than Kade’s. It snakes around my wrist and up my forearm and bicep,” he glanced at Kade, “and a bit farther. It’s been moving.”
“Snakes is an appropriate word. How much farther?”
Cole let out a breath. “To my shoulder.”
“What?” Kade rounded on him. “It wasn’t that high earlier. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Ya been hiding this?” Heru accused him.
“It’s basically winter in Colorado,” Cole snapped back, “so I’ve had my jacket on, and Italy isn’t exactly warm. Long sleeves. Besides that, the Warden knows—so no, not exactly hiding; I assumed he told you.”
“Fair enough. Your grandfather mentioned ya had effects from Kadence’s fusionem crystal.” He eyed Cole and pulled his sleeve down. “Keep it hidden. Kadence, what did ya feel before when the Shadows were here?”
She found Cole’s hand again, blindly reaching out. He threaded their fingers together. “I saw Cole kill the leader, the Shadow who was delivering the message, and I saw the rest of them …” She glanced at Cole and shook her head.
“What?” Cole asked.
“They outnumbered you twenty—or thirty—to one.” Her voice shook. “I had to stop it.”
“What did you see, Kade?” he pressed.
“Your body,” she whispered, closing her eyes to block it out. “Burned black. The same way we saw Alex’s in the snow the day Dracon attacked me.”
Cole’s release of breath wasn’t contained. “That won’t happen, Sparrow,” he said, pulling her close. “It won’t.”
“You’re not invincible.” She turned her body into his and buried her face against his chest. “I don’t know what happened. My hand burned, and I saw you … on the ground, eyes staring,” she shuddered, “and I shifted. I didn’t even think, Cole. It just … happened. My hand was around your wrist without a single thought.”
“What else?” He pulled his fingers through her hair.
She shook her head, holding onto him.
“You sure?”
She nodded, untangling herself, and glanced at Heru. He was staring at her.
“Ya didn’t see the events before Cole decided to kill the Shadow?”
“No.”
“Any pain associated with the vision of Cole getting killed?”
“Just in my hand.”
“All right … I suppose that’s enough excitement for one night,” he said. “We achieved our aim. We know who the trackers are, not that we didn’t before, but more importantly, we know their intent. At least partially.” Heru clapped his hands together. “Seems they too fear the Eldership taking ya to Stella Urbem. Odd that we may have found an ally in the enemy.” His eyes twinkled.
Yeah, Kade thought, odd. “Where now?”
Heru strode past them, the hem of his suit tailcoat billowing. “We’ll discuss that in a less public place. Gather up yar disciples and let us be gone while our trackers are tending their wounds.”
Chapter 23
Danny scanned the immediate area around the outside of the amphitheater. Telums still in hand, but concealed in his palms, he smiled cordially to a few formally dressed patrons strolling down the sidewalk.
“Who’s that guy?” Giselle asked.
“Heru? I’ll let Cole explain.” Danny backed up a few paces and stared into the night sky. “See anything?”
“Nothing,” Lindsey answered. “Gurgulio are cowardly when it comes to one on one. They won’t hang around after the Shadows got killed. There’s no energy on the air.”
“I’ve seen him before,” Giselle said, paying no attention to either of them, apparently. “At the Ward a few times. He’s like … ancient. How does he know Cole?”
“What?” Danny asked. “What are you rambling about?” He eyed Lindsey with a, “does she always get sidetracked when you work with her” glance.
Lindsey shrugged. “I think we’re all clear.”
Danny looked toward the entrance of the arena as Cole, Kade, and Heru exited, making their way toward him in the chilly Italian night.
“You found me.” Cole smiled wide, coming closer down the sidewalk.
“Are you proud?” Danny beamed, knowing that was the case.
“Very proud. That’s big deal, using your wings like that—a lot of Primordial can’t do it.”
“So, here’s what’s going to happen,” Heru said, his coat billowing behind him until he came to a stop. “Ya, ya, and ya,” he pointed at Danny, Giselle, and Lindsey in turn, “are not my responsibility. If ya get yarselves killed it’s on each of ya for showing up where ya weren’t welcome. If ya tag along, ya get yar own train car, ‘cause ya’re not riding in mine.” He walked off without another word toward the rental car parked down the street on the curb.
“Ooh, I like him,” Giselle said.
Danny shook his head. “We just came to make sure you guys are safe.” He faced Cole. “Plumb’s freaked. Why didn’t you tell me the Eldership summoned Kade?”
“Warden’s order. Couldn’t say anything.”
Danny nodded.
“So, Kade,” Giselle said, “is that how you always look when you … transform?” Her eyes glittered under the starry night sky.
“Yeah.” She shrugged.
“Jealous. It was way hot. You should just ditch the human thing alto
gether.” She waved a hand through the air.
“I …”
“G—“ Lindsey cocked an eyebrow. “Just … no.”
“What? It’s true.”
“So, I’m not sure where we’re headed now.” Cole put his arm around Kade, pulling her into him. “What’s your plan?”
“We’re here to help.” Danny clapped his hands together. “Whatever you need. What else do I have to do? The Beta sticks with his Alpha.”
Cole grinned. “You sure? Stakes are different. The Eldership is involved.” He glanced at each of them. “I think what we’re doing is probably considered treason.”
Giselle shrugged. “You haven’t killed anyone in the Eldership yet, right?”
“Not yet.” Cole shook his head.
“Yeah, well, we’ll be here if that’s what you decide to do.” She smiled, a real smile for once. “Call it personal, but I have an issue with any overruling body telling someone they aren’t allowed to be different.” She winked at Kade.
“Those are big words, G,” Cole said.
“I agree with Giselle.” Lindsey crossed her arms over her chest. “Whatever you need.”
“We were in for the Araneum—we’re in for this,” Danny shoved his blades up his sleeves.
Plumb stood outside on the front porch of the Kinship common house wringing her hands. The chill of early fall had sunk into her bones like dry rot. She adjusted her fuchsia scarf around her neck and crossed her arms over her chest, waiting. The unmistakable chime of Thatcher’s high yet somehow scratchy voice rang from the other side of the front door.
It swung open, flooding Plumb in Thatcher’s too-sweet musk perfume. “Is everything all right?” The Kinship’s Lead’s beehive hairstyle went out of style circa 1960, Plumb thought, but it had never stopped Thatcher from wearing it. “You sounded downright frantic on the phone. I’da thought someone was dyin’,” she laughed, but Plumb was straight-faced.
“Did you check to see if Lindsey was home?” Plumb stuttered slightly from the cold.
“I did check, and like I told you on the phone, that girl runs by her own schedule.” She waved a hand in the air, painted red fingernails streaking through the frigid gray day. “She don’t listen to me—never has. She’s around. What did you need with her, darlin’? You look stricken.”
“Well,” Plumb stuttered again and cursed herself for it. “It’s freezing out. May I come in?”
“Oh! Yeah, of course, of course, I’m sorry. Where’s my head at?” She allowed Plumb into the front sitting room, a blessed thirty degrees warmer.
“Thank you.” A shiver wracked her body. “I needed to see Lindsey pertaining to Ward business.”
“Ward? Well, I’m her Lead, darlin.’ If Warden Caelius has business with her, he can go through me.”
“Right,” Plumb nodded. Trying to sidestep Thatcher was like attempting to fight a cat—she was all over the place. And everyone said she had a sixth sense, too. Plumb didn’t doubt it. The woman just looked at people sideways. She had no choice but to lay the truth, at least partially, on the line. “I was actually hoping to talk to Giselle, and I know—”
“Oh,” Thatcher cut her off mid-sentence. Her mouth tightened into a straight line, eyes narrowing with way too much black mascara on her lashes. She put a hand on her hip, staring.
Plumb smiled awkwardly. “Uh, do you know where she is?”
“You know, darlin’ something ain’t right with those two. You know what I mean?” Her eyes narrowed more, and with the heavy mascara, she looked like she had two black eyes.
“Not really, no.”
“Hmph. Well, I do know, and I’m telling you.” She threw her other hip out and opened the front door, long red nails scraping the door knob. “If I see either of those girls, which ain’t likely with the way they’re always actin,’ you understand, I’ll send them your way, that all right?”
“Um, yeah, all right.” Plumb walked out onto the front porch and turned toward Thatcher, but she’d already closed the door and turned the dead bolt.
Jake stood in the dilapidated and abandoned cafe across the street from the Ward in Rome, retying his navy blue tie around his neck and straightening the collar of his just pressed shirt. Walking across the street, he hoped he wasn’t coming to see Warden Caelius too late in the evening.
The Ward’s courtyard was lit in warm landscaping lights, the stone fountains spilling water over their edges and splashing onto the grass. Climbing the front steps of the building, his black leather dress shoes clapped off the concrete. Wearing his formal attire—navy blue tie straight, the Kinship crest on his lapels of an owl with two drops of blood—he squared his shoulders and walked into the wide entryway, bedecked with angel murals and crystal chandeliers.
Making his way with conviction toward Warden Caelius’ office, he was unsure how he would be received without an appointment, but he’d had to come. The decision the Warden made about promoting Lindsey to be Jake’s Beta just wasn’t going to work. He’d thought and thought about it—it was all he’d thought about since he’d been given the news, and no matter which angle he came at it from, he just couldn’t make sense of it. Lindsey hated him for one thing. She’d also hated his best friend Alex. And Kyle. Not that she hadn’t right about Kyle. Jake had no desire to think about Kyle. Ever.
In all honesty, he was lucky to still be the Kinship’s Alpha after the Kyle debacle. He could have easily been demoted, but in all fairness, as Warden Caelius had told him, everyone had been fooled by Kyle. That was the most alarming part about it. With a shake of his head, he kept walking down the elaborate hallway. Kyle wasn’t the issue anymore.
The whole of the Ward basilica seemed unusually empty, even for the later evening hour. Generally, Principals would be ambling around, but it was quiet and still. Coming to a stop, Jake knocked on Warden Caelius’ office door, and waited, aligning the cufflinks on his dress shirt, straightening his tie for the fifth time, and peeked down to make sure his shoes hadn’t gotten scuffed in the Leygate jump from Colorado to Rome. There was no answer. He knocked again.
“Can I help you with something?”
Jake turned on his heel. A slim, tall man, maybe six feet, with cropped white hair and narrow, cold blue eyes stalked toward him. “No,” Jake said, wondering who the guy was, “not really.”
The man gave a cordial, but completely fake smile. “Warden Caelius isn’t in.”
Jake eyed the man. “I see that. Who are you?” He knew almost all the Principals in the Ward— a lot of the Primordial kids did, especially the kids whose parents worked there.
The man smiled wider. It was unnerving. “The Warden had to leave for a little while, unannounced. Can I direct you to someone else?”
“You can direct me to what your name is,” Jake said. “I don’t know you, and I know pretty much everyone here.”
“Forgive me, I didn’t mean to alarm you. My name is Cato.” He held out his hand. It was cold. Jake shook it firmly and let go. “You must be Jonathan Phillip’s oldest?” He lifted a brow. “Jacob, right?”
“It’s Jake,” he answered, monotone, still eyeing the guy. “Thanks for the information.” He turned on his heel again, dress shoes clapping against the polished floor as he made his way down the hallway toward the entrance of the building. “I’ll be sure to mention to my dad that I met you, Cato.”
“You do that. I’m sure Warden Caelius will return soon,” he said. “If it was important, whatever you needed to discuss with him, I mean.”
Jake glanced at the man over his shoulder, brows creased between his eyes. “Right.”
“Hey, aren’t you the Kinship’s Alpha?” The man’s smile was still fake and plastered on his narrow face.
Jake stopped in the hallway and turned all the way around, head tilted, hands on his hips. “I am.”
“Boy,” the guy chuckled, “you Primordial kids are tough, aren’t you? Warden Caelius is training you right. I was simply being curious.”
“A secon
d ago you wouldn’t tell me your name,” Jake said, “yet you somehow know my name and the rank I hold. I’m not sure you’re simply being curious. Why are you here?”
“Same as you,” the man said with a shrug, “I needed to talk to Warden Caelius. But like you, I found that he isn’t in.”
“Right,” Jake stared at him, “he had to leave unannounced.”
“Exactly.”
“Yeah, like I said, I’ll be sure to let my father know we met today.” Jake turned and strode out the front doors of the basilica straight across the grounds and into the cafe across the street before jumping into the Leygate back to Boulder.
Ms. Plumb, the Brotherhood’s Lead, was backing out of the driveway in her spearmint green 1972 VW bus when Jake made his way toward the Kinship’s front porch a few minutes later. The woman was nice, but she clearly had issues. Side-stepping her large, rectangle van, Jake shifted into the snow-covered yard, his dress shoes sinking up to his ankles in the slush, and out of her path. He waved in a cordial way as she passed him, and she hit the brakes.
He saw her making some kind of frantic movement at him with her hands behind the fogged up driver’s window. Walking over, he waited for her to manually crank the window down.
“Jake.” She was out of breath and looked frozen solid, one of those too-bright scarf things wrapped around her head that closely matched the flushed color of her cheeks.
“Ms. Plumb,” he said, politely, unsure why she stopped him. The common house Leads generally stuck to their own just like all the kids did. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes, thank you for asking. I just came to talk to Ms. Thatcher,” she said so fast Jake had to strain to make out all the words. “Have you seen Lindsey today by chance? Or Giselle for that matter?”
He shook his head. “No, I’ve been out most of the day, but—wait, why?”
“I just needed to speak with them, um, about Ward business.” She nodded, and he wasn’t sure who she was trying convince, herself or him. A very unwanted, not to mention uncomfortable, sensation crept up his spine.