“Thank you for inviting me,” I tell Lily as I pick up the ale and take a sip. As always, she chooses ale with a mild taste, but I know it has a strong kick. The first time I got drunk, she did it to me intentionally, and she hasn’t slacked off on the punch of her beverages. More than two cups, and I’ll have a headache tomorrow for PT. “How are you?”
“An interesting question,” Lily says as she sips at her ale and turns to look at me. “A better question would be how are you? That black eye’s new.”
I clench my teeth, swirling the last of my sip of ale around before swallowing. “It was part of training.”
“No . . . I watched your training today,” Lily says, smirking as she finishes her ale and refills it from the pitcher on the table. “I don’t expect you to tell me who, but I do expect you to tell me how and when.”
“It was after class,” I reply carefully, not wanting to get anyone in trouble. Besides, it’s my problem. I’ll deal with it myself. “I gave as good as I took.”
“I see. So if I checked the other dormitories right now, I’d find at least three other Younglings with similar or more severe injuries?”
“Perhaps.”
Lily sighs and turns her eyes away from me, obviously intent on teaching me a lesson. She’s good at that. “Look out over the railing, Cerena. Tell me, what do you see?”
I don’t really understand the question, but I do what she says, following her gaze. “I see Solace.”
“But what do you see?” Lily repeats, looking over. “Buildings? People? The Wall in the distance?”
“Yes,” I reply, still not understanding. “I see all that.”
“But you don’t really see it, Cerena,” Lily says, smiling a little at the end. “Don’t fret, little one. When I was a Youngling, I didn’t see it either. I sort of stumbled into seeing what I’m about to share with you. Tell me, Cerena, what protects Solace?”
“The Wall.”
“Just that?” Lily asks. “If that’s the case, why not just build a bigger wall?”
“Because there are too many enemies who can pierce the wall,” I reply. “The wall serves as only a partial barrier.”
“True. So what really protects Solace?” Lily asks before reaching down and plucking her sword from her side. “I’ll let you off the hook a little . . . this. This is what defends Solace. So, how far does Solace’s power reach?”
I know this one, a laconic answer I heard once in school. “About as far as your sword.”
Lily chuckles and sets her blade back down. “An old nugget, but a true one. What’s the strongest weapon a Hunter has?”
I pause, knowing the answer they’ve taught us in the Academy but also knowing the answer in my own heart. Lily watches me, her eyes twinkling perceptively as she waits for me to decide. Do I give her the ‘right’ answer? Or do I give her the ‘real’ answer?
In the end, I have to be me. “The strongest weapon a Hunter has is their own beating heart.”
“You’ve filled yours with duty,” Lily says, a note of disapproval in her voice. “And vengeance. It’s given you much power, Cerena. With Edward asleep, I’ve kept watch over your studies and growth as best I can.”
“I’ve appreciated it.”
“And what I see is a young woman who is at the top of her class in nearly every category that can be measured . . . except one,” Lily says. “In academics, you’re nearly flawless. Your martial skill and physical capabilities would already make you the match of some of the Hunters in teams that I work with. I’d like to claim a little credit for your skills, if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t.” That, if anything, is true. While we met soon after my promotion to the Youngling training group, I have come to see Lily as the sort of aunt role that I’ve never had in life. She’s stern, strict at times, and has more than once kicked my ass on the training ground. But each time, she takes the time to explain to me exactly what I did wrong, what I can do better, and how to get there.
She’s also served as my confidant, mentor, and sometimes confessor when Edward’s been unavailable. I treasure her guidance deeply.
Lily sighs, as if she can read my mind, and looks back out over the city. “You know what I see, looking out right now, Cerena? I see a collective. And like that proverbial bundle of sticks they have you Younglings whacking at with the wooden sword, that collective is stronger than a single sword.”
“I figured they did it for that reason.”
“It’s another old lesson they gleaned from the historical archives, but one that’s stood the test of time. Cerena, we must all find our group.”
“I have a group,” I protest. “The Hunters. And Edward. While I might not fit in well, I am devoted to them.”
Lily shakes her head. “No, my little Huntress. That’s not a group. That’s a name. And Edward . . . you cannot be in a group with Edward. He’s your guardian, but he’s not your peer, your . . . equal.”
“So, what is my group?”
Lily sips her ale and hums. “I hope someday to find that out myself. Because duty and the bonds of a group can make you stronger than any hate or desire for vengeance you have. When you find your group, you’ll be able to do things that would make even the strongest of paranormals weak.”
“And when will I know?”
Lily chuckles. “Trust me, Cerena. You’ll know.”
I swallow, feeling the tears that have been streaking down my face. I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting here under this tree, lost in my memories. But when I look over at the truck, Lance and Tym are talking quietly, laughing with each other. They glance over from time to time but are giving me the time and space that I need.
They understand.
They care.
They’re . . . my group.
I stand up, wiping my tears away. “Thank you, Lily,” I whisper to the sky. “I’m glad you got to meet them too.”
Chapter 18
Brandon
When I open my eyes, the sky’s going dark, and I wonder how long I’ve been out. Five minutes? No . . . no, the sky’s darker than that. Fifteen minutes?
Suddenly, I’m bumped and my head bounces off something soft yet firm and I realize . . . I’m moving.
Sitting up, a wave of disorientation hits me as I see the landscape moving past me, and I’m sitting in the back of the truck. How’d I get here?
“Well, look who decided to wake up.”
I look across the truck bed to find Lance lounging against the other side, a smirk on his face. “I’m alive.”
“I should hope so. I’m not good enough for heaven, and sweet cheeks isn’t bad enough for hell.”
I rub at my eyes then rub at my neck, which is so stiff that I can’t believe I’m moving. “Last thing I remember was a werewolf hitting me. Fucking hurts.”
“I bet. I wasn’t there. I was getting the truck, but Cerena says you went flying like a bird. Between that and the dark magic ball of hell you unleashed, it’s no wonder you took a one-day nap.”
“A one-day . . . I’ve been out a whole day?” I ask, wincing as we go over another bump and my neck decides to protest again. Glancing up front, I see Cerena behind the wheel, and she gives me a quick smile while Tym naps in the other seat. “How’d we get here?”
Lance fills me in on what’s happened while I’ve been out, ending with the vision Loki gave him. “So we’re pushing it a little, eating up the miles.”
“I can understand that. Wish I’d been awake.”
“Well, it’s been a pain in the ass turning you on your side every once in a while to make sure you don’t piss your pants,” Lance says with a grin. “Would have been easier just to shoot you and leave you behind, but Cerena needs someone to slap around from time to time. Guess who’s nominated?”
His words cause a quick flash of anger in me. How dare this prick taunt me like that? But just as soon as the anger appears, it evaporates and I lean back, laughing a little. “If she slaps me around, I’ll just be taking your
action.”
“Please, Blender Boy,” Lance replies, using his nickname for me. I don’t really like the name, but fuck it. I can see that while from one point of view, he’s taunting me, there’s another point of view, one that says there’s something in the way he says it that has other meanings. He accepts me.
Maybe that’s the difference.
“So, how long until we get there?” I ask, and in the driver’s seat, Cerena shrugs. I understand. This is an electric vehicle and they’re weather dependent. Still, a question comes to my mind. “So that bunker—”
“Is that what it was?” Cerena asks over her shoulder. “I caught the Air Force markings on the door.”
“Yeah . . . some kind of supply bunker at first, and the birthing place of the werewolf race,” I reply. “Listen, Lucian told me, Cerena, that he was at your parents’ murder. He conspired with Edward about it.”
Cerena takes a deep breath, then nods. “Thank you, but it changes nothing. If anything, it tells me the Hunters and the werewolves might not be as unfriendly as Lily told us. Fuck it. All we can do is keep kicking ass.”
“Great . . . four against the Scorched Earth. Sounds like a damn novel.”
Lance laughs, nodding. “True. Hey, you did well. And I get it, learning to handle that power.”
“Still don’t know how I did it,” I admit. “I just saw a threat and reacted. Be honest with you, I’d like to know how. If I can harness and control that, make it a repeatable skill that I can at least hold back as a final option, I’d feel a lot more confident going against Edward and the others.”
Lance nods. “If you don’t mind a little advice, it’s a lot like a muscle. You have to exercise it but at the same time relax it. You run around with your mental asshole clenched all the time, when it goes off, it’s going to be a huge mess.”
“Thanks, I needed that image after not eating for a day,” I shoot back, my mind creating a disgusting image that has me glad I haven’t eaten in a day, but it still makes me laugh. Lance suddenly looks thoughtful but doesn’t say anything until we come to a stop.
Camp is simple, with the truck hidden behind some rocks while our bedrolls are spread out next to the truck, with the rocks and the truck creating a wind stop for our small campfire.
Lance takes care of the hunt today, using his ability to quickly get a pair of rabbits and have them roasting over the open fire. As the meat cooks, Lance sprinkles some salt from a packet over top, then sits back and looks over at me and Cerena. “I’ve been thinking of something . . . and I don’t want you two to get upset about it, but I think I need to say it.”
“Okay . . . I’m listening,” Cerena says, a trifle nervously. “What’s on your mind, Lance?”
“I’ve been thinking,” Lance says, rubbing at his smooth cheek, “that you and Brandon both need to start practicing your magical abilities.”
“Wait, what?” Cerena asks, blinking in shock. “What magical abilities?”
Lance looks not at me but at Cerena. “I saw it. In Loki’s vision, remember? He used a power to throw Lily across the room, but he didn’t even touch her. And he said that power wasn’t from Bane but from Sulis.”
Cerena nods slowly, biting her lip. “Telekinesis. It’s been rumored, of course, never proven or conclusively observed. But Lance, I’m not paranormal. I’ve never shown extra powers in my life.”
“Of course you have,” Lance replies. “Cerena, the way you move, the way you fight . . . that’s more than just a lifetime of training. That’s something more than human. And if Edward showed telekinesis . . . maybe you’ve got it too. Maybe both of you.”
I purse my lips, digesting what Lance is saying. “Lance, all my powers have shown is destruction so far. That one burst of telekinesis that I showed, I’ve never been able to replicate it. It might just be an after effect of the reincarnation, snuffed out now under Bane’s dark DNA.”
“And maybe that’s all you have,” Lance admits. “But we need to know. Because you’re right, Brandon. We’re going to have to face off against Edward at some point. We need every tool we can if we’re going to survive that, let alone win.”
I nod and take a deep breath. “I’m willing to give it a go.”
“Which skill?” Cerena asks. “Blowing shit up or telekinesis?”
“Probably should start with the one that I know I’ve got,” I finally answer. “Although I’m willing to try making stones float or whatever too. Cerena?”
Cerena shrugs, chuckling darkly. “What the hell. I mean, we’ve got hours of night still. The truck isn’t going anywhere. I can stare at rocks and try to make them move with the best of them.”
“Then I guess we have our after-dinner entertainment,” Lance says with a grin. “Cerena can make the rocks float, and Brandon can make them blow up. Sounds like a party.”
“Yeah, but first, I need to actually try getting the rocks to float.”
I grin and look down at my fingers. “You’ve got the easy part. I have to try and make them blow up without blowing up Lance too.”
“Why me?” Lance jokes. “Why not Tym here?”
“He’s useful.”
Chapter 19
Cerena
After dinner, we get started, and it’s not the casual joking matter that Lance made it out to be in our chat around the fire. Instead, I retreat from the guys, going until I can barely see the light of the fire in my peripheral vision before I sink to my knees and start to focus.
It’s harder than I thought it would be.
My entire life, I’ve been taught not to trust paranormal abilities. And while I’ve learned to at least accept that the important men in my life have them, it’s harder to consider that possibility for myself.
I mean, Lance being able to stop time or move at superhuman speeds? Okay . . . but he’s weird. Adorable, sarcastic, with a tongue that is truly divine and a great outlet for any aggressive sexual frustrations I have, but weird.
Tym being built like a brick wall, all dusky skin, long locks of twisted hair, and muscles on top of muscles? Sure, but the price of his power is so great that it’s as much a curse as it is a gift.
And Brandon? Brandon doesn’t even know what he is right now.
So what does that make me? A holo from a computer can say one thing, can claim that I’m twenty-five percent descended from the goddess of light. It can say that I should have just as much of a chance of having powers as my three lovers.
But that doesn’t mean it’s true.
Still, I have to try. Because Lance and Brandon are right. I can feel it in my bones. I’m going to come face to face with Edward, with Lucian, with enemies who’ll threaten the end of everything.
So I do my best to calm my mind, remembering the exercises that Lily taught me. I set aside my fear, my doubt, my anger to exist in the moment. Well, as best I can. I’ve got a lot of anger.
When I’m steady and focused, I open my eyes and look at a rock in front of me. It’s more of a pebble, really, but it’s flatter than the others around it and is almost white, like it was dropped here in the middle of all these black and gray rocks just to be used now. Doesn’t really matter. It’s easily identifiable, which is what I want.
I stare at the pebble, willing it to move. I stare so hard that sweat starts to pop out on my forehead, and minutes crawl by. My eyes ache, and I’m gritting my teeth when I hear footsteps behind me and I look up to see Lance approaching.
“Hey . . . don’t want to interrupt, but I wanted to see how you were doing.”
“The rocks haven’t even trembled . . . but I’m not giving up yet.”
Lance squats down across from me, looking into my eyes. “I also came because I understand conscious powers better than Tym. He’s all unconscious, uncontrolled ability. I mean, the first time he ever shut down his rage was just the other day, and I give you most of the credit for that. Me, I at least get to choose when I stop time or use entanglement.”
“So you’re here to tell me how?”
I laugh softly. That is where he’d go. Still, the idea of using telekinesis to control sex . . . that’s sexy as fuck. “So, what advice do you have?”
“All I can do is give you a few hints. Same I gave Brandon. First, relax. Second, search your feelings. My powers are connected to my emotions, and I suspect yours are too. So you need to find the emotion that helps you.”
“Great . . . you know I’m not into the touchy feely crap, right?” I seethe. “And now you’re telling me—”
Lance drops to his knees and leans forward, cutting my words off and kissing me deeply in the darkness. His lips are teasing, tantalizing until I give in, reaching up to pull him closer until we take each other’s breath away.
Suddenly, he pulls back, grinning. “I think that might give you an idea of what emotion to start with. Remember, Sulis is a goddess of good feelings. So start there. Don’t worry, sweet cheeks. If you need more, I’ll give you more.”
In a flash, he’s gone, and I take a few deep breaths before smirking. “Okay, then, Lance, baby . . . let’s see if I can make this pebble remind me of you.”
The village is small and dusty, smaller than even Arroyo, if that’s possible. It’s the sort of place that you don’t even notice unless you need to stop for the night. There’s not much to trade for here. The surrounding terrain is windswept, and I doubt the fields we’ve been driving by for the past half hour are very productive. The land is a pendulum, swinging from frozen and wet during the winter to wind-blasted, hot, and dry in summer.
Yet here stands Woodcrest. A half-dozen buildings, two barely recognizable trails, and that’s about it. The few businesses serve more as a convenient gathering point than anything else, and I doubt any of the farms have homes within shouting distance of town.
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