Interference: Book One

  I looked up at him with wide eyes. “How did you get this?”

  Fitz tilted his head and grinned. “That’s a story for another day.”

  I nodded, full of emotion, then reached down to pull the heirloom from the box. It slid over my finger with ease—perfect fit. Heat engulfed my hand, and I almost removed it when it became uncomfortable. It subsided, and I could have sworn the brilliance increased as it settled into place on my finger—as if the ring accepted me. Words stuck in my throat as Sebastian left the dining hall, leaving a wake of sadness, pride, and fear around us. Nora followed him.

  Fitz’s expression was full of emotion, “Keep it safe, Mercy. Take it off for no one.”

  . . .

  I turned the ring around my finger, the small strip of moonlight shining through my window glinting off the stones. I couldn’t sleep. Unanswered questions burned through my mind, and three words, in particular, ate at me. Five years ago. What happened five years ago to alter the lives of two friends I love dearly? There’s only one person who might have the answer, and I knew even if asked, he might not be honest with me. Fitz.

  Raising up on my elbows, I listened for Nora’s even breathing, wanting to make sure she slept soundly. I slipped on my clothes and left the room as quietly as possible. Thankfully, the dark halls of Fremont were empty. No matter the time, there was usually someone up.

  Fitz’s office was at the end of the hall on the right—never locked. Shouldn’t there be files or something private to guard? Then again, he probably saved everything on a digital file somewhere. I slowly turned the doorknob and pushed on the heavy wooden door. The blinds were open, moonlight shining throughout the office. The light wasn’t great, but I feared the lamp would bring too much attention to the room.

  I started toward his desk, the top middle drawer locked. I felt underneath for a key or release like they did in the movies, but came up empty. Psychology books, notebooks, and office supplies filled the side drawers of the desk. Could Fitz really be this boring? I went through everything in the cabinets, shelves, and books. I told myself this was a waste of time, so I turned to head back to my room. That’s when I saw it.

  A small black trunk, maybe two feet long, sat on the bottom shelf. Hidden in plain sight between two sections of encyclopedias. I pulled the trunk free and turned on the desk lamp to rummage through Fitz’s belongings.

  Papers and pictures toppled out when I lifted the lid. I found college degrees, old mail, and a few photos of him and Dr. Lee when they first opened Fremont. They both looked younger, less stressed. I couldn’t imagine what they’d been through over the years to protect their students, especially Fitz.

  When I finally decided to give up, a picture of two boys, maybe eighteen or nineteen, fell out of an envelope. A house stood behind them, made from smooth stone with a wooden arched doorway. Willow trees on both sides were blowing with the breeze, and the sky was bluer than I had ever seen it. Something inside me whispered, “Seregalo.” Fitz had to be the guy on the left with curly dark hair and eyes that turned down when he smiled, but the one on the right . . . he looked like . . . it wasn’t possible. Had I lost my mind?

  I flipped the picture over, and the words written on the back would forever change my life.

  Brian M. Fitzpatrick and Noah Sebastian Monroe.

  I flipped the image back over and looked at the face I’d seen for weeks, Sebastian’s face. My father’s face. How could this be? My palm flew over my mouth to mute the sob, climbing up my throat.

  “Now you know.” Fitz leaned against the doorway with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

  “How could you not tell me?” I whispered.

  “I’m ashamed to say I just recently found out. I honestly thought he’d died, Mercy. I knew Dr. Lee had a new patient, but I was so involved in your training and protection, I let him handle all of our new residents. I searched him out after speaking to you about your nightmare. I couldn’t believe it. My mind is still blown, but my heart is full. We stayed up all night, reminiscing and talking about you.”

  Fitz squatted down in front of me. “He had to stay hidden, Mercy, and it takes his entire sensory gift to project his younger self. He was heading toward lunacy when Dr. Lee brought him in—found him in an alley out in the open, mumbling about an attack. Using his gift constantly for the last five years had taken a toll on him. All he’s ever wanted was to protect his family, you must know that.”

  I struggled to swallow as bile burned my throat. “And Dr. Lee? Does he know?”

  “He does. Dr. Lee knew he was hiding something, and figured it out rather quickly. It’s imperative we keep your father’s identity hidden. Aadya doesn’t need to know he’s alive.”

  “What happened, Fitz? Five years ago, something went down to alter my friend’s lives, and I know you know. I’m sick of the secrets and the lies. If I’m such a major part in all of this, then I deserve the truth. My friends deserve to know what happened to their loved ones. Just be honest with me. Did it have something to do with my parents?”

  “Yes,” Fitz sighed. “I swear, Mercy, I’m getting these details along with you. If I had known any of this, I would’ve come for you much sooner, I promise. I would never have left you with that horrible woman. Your father wouldn’t have either if he had known what it was like.”

  I nodded that I believed him, because I genuinely did.

  “When you came of age, another ripple of power ran through Seregalo. A reminder of sorts that you were still here, alive and well. The evening of your thirteenth birthday, a wave of magic ran through the city, then the news broke the story about an explosion at a local school gym. Aadya sent every Custos available to New York to sniff you out. Your father, along with the Morenos and Parkers, held them off to protect you. They believed in your future, and I know they would do it all over again.”

  “They . . . all died? Protecting me?”

  “The Morenos died, yes. The Parkers helped your father diminish the threat, then they went into hiding with their two oldest sons, waiting for the time Aadya would attack again. We all know it’s coming, Mercy.”

  “The ring, did my father give it to you?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  I lowered my head, crying for my family and Drakes. What would Drake think when he found out I was responsible for their death? Would he still want to be with me? I shook my head back and forth, telling myself that this couldn’t be real. Thinking back, all Sebastian had done since he arrived was take care of me. I needed to see him. I needed to meet my father.

  “Where is he, Fitz?”

  Fitz stared down at his watch and sighed. “Lee put him on the security rotations. He’ll either be on the roof or in the courtyard right now.”

  I took a deep breath, then walked out of his office without another word.

  13

  ⥈

  I didn’t have to search for my father. I felt him. His warmth. His fierce determination to protect me. An awareness of the truth sharpened my intuition where he was concerned. I walked out the backdoor of Fremont—a crisp cold wind grazing across my skin as I stepped onto the courtyard.

  Just like Dr. Lee instructed, I blocked. This time, I didn’t focus on shielding myself from a subconscious power, I blocked a sensory interferer—my father. The moment my eyes found him, the breath left my lungs. He stood with his back toward me in the center of the yard, looking up at the stars. My shield blocked the image of his younger self he’d fought so hard to conjure.

  The moonlight lit up his salt and pepper hair. His left shoulder that sat just a smidge higher than the right—similar to mine. The way he focused on the sky, as if he begged for answers he didn’t have. How many times had I done the same?

  The crunch of grass under my shoes rang out through the quiet of the night, and I knew he was aware of my presence. His emotions were all over the place—joy, fear, gratefulness.

  “You’ve been practicing. I haven’t had any real competition from a shield in quite some time
.”

  His deep voice soothed my soul. I couldn’t speak for fear of crying.

  He still hadn’t turned around to face me. “I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know how. I’m not sure I’ve always made the smartest decisions where you’re concerned, but everything I’ve done—everything—is because I love you and want to protect you.”

  Warm tears left paths down my cheeks at his words. It was the first time someone had told me they loved me. I’d always wondered what it would feel like.

  My father turned and met my gaze. Tears filled his eyes, but he didn’t move. The heart-shaped face, eyes, dimples . . . We looked so much alike.

  “My mother—is she alive?” I asked, softly.

  His eyes darkened and his chin trembled at my question. He shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

  My shoulders slumped in defeat. I pursed my lips and wrapped my hand around my neck as if I could relieve the tightness in my throat. I knew it wasn’t likely she had survived, but I’d hoped.

  “The night of my thirteenth birthday—I felt an emptiness. A loss of someone important. I remember it so clearly.” My eyes filled with tears.

  The stress of using his gift was obvious in the dark circles under his eyes. “Yes,” he whispered. “I should have been there.” His guilt was evident in the shakiness of his voice.

  My father’s presence pulled a vulnerability from me. One I fought everyday to hide from my friends. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Mercy . . .” He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around me.

  I buried my face in his chest and a comfort I’d never experienced consumed me. I breathed him in, as if relishing every detail of our private moment. I’d never felt smaller.

  He kissed the top of my head, then whispered, “You’re insecurity, your self-doubt—it all stems from your lack of connection to your power growing up. You’re stronger than you know. I’m going to help you. Alright?”

  “Is Aadya coming for me? Is that why you’re at Fremont?” I had so many questions—I blurted them out as they came to me. “Will you leave again?”

  “Honestly, Mercy, I don’t know what she will do. I do know that you need to be prepared for anything. Now that you’ve demonstrated multiple gifts, she will attack eventually. If she finds out I’m here, she will show herself sooner rather than later.”

  “I don’t know how to be this person,” I cried. “This powerful individual that’s supposed to lead our people.” I hiccuped as the sobs kept coming. “What am I supposed to challenge her to? Kinetic-tennis?”

  I glanced up as my father fought a smile. “Come sit down.”

  We walked to the side of the courtyard where a small concrete bench sat between two shrubs, shielding us from the garden entrance. We both sat silently, staring up at the beautiful night sky. Not a cloud in sight.

  “The day you were born—when we realized the extent of your power—Annabel fell apart. The thought of you being anywhere near her sister terrified her. But I told her, if nature trusts Mercy for this destiny, then we will too. The struggle was keeping you alive until you were old enough to take over.”

  Then, I asked the question I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to answer. “How long have you been in New York?” My gaze focused on the crisp blades of grass between my feet.

  He cleared his throat. “I never left.”

  Confusion and frustration overwhelmed me. I stood and paced the courtyard, my fist balling up at my side. “You just left me alone? All this time? You left me with her?” The night sky dimmed as clouds stole the pristine starlight. I breathed through my anger, trying to see it from his point of view. I couldn’t. I didn’t understand.

  “No. I never left you, I promise.” He stood, placing his hands on my shoulders as he turned me to face him. He bent slightly, just enough to look into my eyes. “Going in and out of school, watching you work with children in the evenings, following you home to make sure you were safe. I was there. I never left.”

  I blinked as tears blurred my vision. His hazel eyes softened and his thumb swiped across my cheek. “I’m so scared,” I admitted. “Please don’t leave me.”

  “I’m here, Mercy.”

  . . .

  Leaving him in the courtyard was the hardest thing I’d ever done. As if he would disappear or maybe I would wake, realizing it was all a dream. A wonderful, beautiful dream. We sat together under the stars for hours, discussing everything and nothing. Sometimes we grew silent, just grateful to be sitting with each other.

  Adrenaline flowed through my veins. I wanted to scream and shout at the top of my lungs. I couldn’t. Fitz told me my father’s position was delicate. If Aadya got wind of his whereabouts, it would have put everyone in danger.

  I walked up and down the hallway, unable to force myself to bed. I couldn’t relax and there was only one who could calm my mind and heart.

  My knuckles lightly tapped the wooden door. I was grateful he didn’t have a roommate. I heard shuffling on the other side of the door before it opened. Drake stood, his hair sticking up in all directions, wearing nothing but shorts.

  Good Lord.

  He struggled to focus. “Mercy? What’s wrong?”

  His deep voice clouded all rational thought as I absorbed the sight in front of me.

  “Mercy?”

  “I, um, I’m having trouble sleeping,” I mumbled.

  His eyes softened and he opened the door wider as he stepped to the side. He closed the door behind me then took my hand, leading me toward his bed. The twin bed appeared much smaller in his room, with his large frame stretched out from top to bottom. I crawled underneath the covers and laid my head against his hard chest, absorbing his warmth—his strength.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

  “Now that I’m laying beside you, I seem to forget what brought me here to begin with,” I mumbled.

  A deep chuckle resonated through Drake’s chest.

  I closed my eyes, as peace flooded my mind. Snuggling deeper into his side, I grazed my fingers across his hips.

  Drake pulled my hand toward his face and his lips skimmed my knuckles. “Let’s not push my control.”

  I grinned as my eyelids became heavy. “Control is overrated,” I whispered.

  “Says the girl with no control.”

  . . .

  For the first time in my life, I felt on top of the world. Being able to have breakfast with my father, practice my elemental gift, and experience a parental bond I never knew existed—it was more than I had ever imagined.

  I felt Drake’s eyes on us, watching and wondering about the unusual friendship that had blossomed. But he also showed trust and understanding–he knew I needed the support of my friends at that confusing time in my life.

  A couple of days after my father’s reveal, he asked me to dress inconspicuously for a quick outing. I was too excited to ask questions, so I braided my hair in the back and put on Drake’s Yankees cap. After lacing up my boots, the awareness of being watched pulled my attention toward the open door.

  Drake leaned against the frame, his eyes dark and his mouth tight. “Are you sure you can trust this guy?”

  I grinned, “I’m positive. You know I wouldn’t go otherwise.”

  He nodded, then stepped inside the room. “Make it quick, or else I’ll go crazy.” He wrapped his arm around my waist and jerked me to his chest. His lips softly brushed across mine, teasing me.

  As my teeth grazed his bottom lip, a deep growl vibrated throughout his chest and the kiss deepened. After what felt like several minutes, someone, sounding quite irritated, cleared their throat in the hall. I’d forgotten the door was open.

  I pulled away and looked up into the wide eyes of Sebastian. “So–we need to go. You know, if you’re finished.”

  Fitz walked up and slapped Sebastian on the back. “Want me to come?”

  Sebastian didn’t take his eyes off Drake. “This is something I’d like to do alone, if you don’t mind.”

/>   Fitz nodded and smiled. “Of course. See you this afternoon.”

  Drake’s eyes narrowed. “Take care of her.”

  “Always.”

  . . .

  Although warmer than usual, the morning air revived my energy. I thrived on being outdoors and the added security at Fremont had kept me limited to the courtyard.

  My father stayed close to my side, keeping an eye out for threats. Although watchful, there was peace and contentment in his eyes that wasn’t there when he arrived. As if our connection had filled a void inside us both.

  He stopped at a nearby food cart, ordering coffee—then whisked around the corner to an older lady selling bouquets of flowers. My brows raised out of confusion, but he only smiled and asked the woman for pink and green peonies.

  We walked for what felt like a mile, before turning down a quiet street in a residential neighborhood. It was actually very close to our old apartment. After a few more blocks, our destination came into view and I froze.

  My eyes widened and I shook my head, as if my mind struggled to accept the reason for our trip that morning. My father looked back and his eyes softened. “Come, Mercy.” He stretched his hand out for mine.

  My shaky hand in his, we walked through the black iron gate of the cemetery. Tall headstones were scattered underneath an expanse of hovering trees, shading the green lots before me. The smell of freshly cut grass combined with the decay of flowers overwhelmed my senses. Everything felt amplified as my emotions welled to the surface.

  Toward the back right-hand corner of the graveyard, an oval headstone sat under a sliver of sunlight breaking through the trees. Simple and elegant. My father didn’t speak—he kneeled, placing the bouquet of peonies in front of the stone. I watched as he closed his eyes, then I sensed the longing in his heart as he took a minute to remember the love of his life—his everything.