“Wonder why he brought us here,” I called out, as we began to retreat toward the ground.
“Because it’s nearby?” Seph peered up at the sky above. “The battalion will probably be on its way. We should move.”
Linford, having heard the last of our conversation as we approached our kin, muttered, “My apologies—”
“No need,” Seph rasped. “The warrior admitted to messing with the portal.”
That didn’t soothe Linford. “My portals have never been hijacked before.”
“There’s a first time for everything,” Gabriella murmured. “Let’s hope it’s the last too.” She sucked in a breath. “We need to get her to a bed, Linford.” She reached for his hand. “Take us home, mi amor.”
Linford didn’t reply, just firmed his jaw, clutched his mate’s hand, and that was the last I saw of the island where we’d slain our first prime warrior.
Two
Matthew
The moment we landed after the duel, I knew where we were.
It was fitting, considering Gabriella’s heritage. My grandmother-in-law was a cubana born and bred, and my mate, Riel, had been raised knowing of her heritage without ever having visited the motherland. But when I peered around the area we’d landed, I cocked a brow at the sight of neat rows of crops surrounding us.
“The family holdings,” Linford explained, when he saw me staring at our location. “Cuba.”
I’d been scanning the area not only out of curiosity, but for enemies too, and sensing we were safe, the fight drained out of me and my exhaustion reasserted itself—two portals in one go as well as the jet lag from our journey to Hawaii the other day, and then… everything with the meteor and the battalion. It was a wonder the three of us weren’t swooning around Riel like pussies. While I felt exactly like dropping to my knees, my fatigue didn’t stop me from noticing a few things though.
I was a warrior. Born and bred. Maybe warfare hadn’t forged me, not yet, but it would in time, and until then, I knew my duty to my Virgo mate.
There were no farmhands around, no one tending the soil and keeping the crops as neat as a line of ducklings. From the glint of gold in the dirt, something that was visible all the more thanks to the late hour, I realized this place was magically tended to—undoubtedly by Linford, unless Gabriella had another Fae mate stashed away somewhere.
Since she’d been ‘dead’ for the past nine years, I highly doubted that was the case, but who the Sol knew? She’d already pulled the most epic rabbit out of the hat, so we would find out what else she was capable of soon enough.
Though my body felt like it was caving in on itself after what we’d all been through tonight, instinct had me continuing to scan my environs. There was something in the air that told me this place was under protection of the magical variety, but I wanted to know the lay of the land better.
A small, ramshackle, one-story house sat in the middle of the property, and I figured we were in its yard. In the distance, close at hand, I could see the ocean, which was close enough for a witch with an affinity for water to be at ease, and a great strategic situation for a family of witches who didn’t know if the tide of politics would turn against them.
The scene had me relaxing some more. My woman was as safe as she could be.
For the moment.
We had a battalion of Fae sniffing after us, and battalions led by generals? They were worse than Sol-damned bloodhounds on the scent. Safety was, most definitely, a relative concept at this stage.
“The de Santos del Sol family are farmers?” Dan asked, his brow furrowed, and his voice laced with a fatigue I shared.
I felt like I’d been knocked on the head by the meteor we’d just prevented from connecting with Earth, when, in reality, I’d only helped absorb most of its extraterrestrial radiation.
#lifegoals. Who said the Fae weren’t fans of Instagram?
“We had to eat,” Gabriella retorted, her voice gruff. “Magical food sustains, but it barely nourishes.”
Fast food never did.
I reached up and rubbed the back of my neck as I stared at the hardy plants. “Tobacco or sugarcane?”
Linford huffed out a laugh. “Trust a vil der Soe to know the main Cuban agricultural exports.”
I shrugged, but my grin was wry. “It’s in the blood.” We were warrior caste, but we were also renowned for our financial wizardry. A talent that had nothing to do with magic, just a lot of insight and learning.
I’d been reading boring, dusty tomes about capitalism and the stock market since I was five—old enough to pick up a sword without accidentally slicing my wing off.
Ironically enough, our financial abilities were what had gotten my uncle into shit, and subsequently, had dragged the family kicking and screaming into exile. That’s what happened when you helped a warlord fund a war.
My uncle was a very dumb financial genius, as well as deadly with a blade.
“Tobacco,” Gabriella murmured. “Wish it had been sugarcane.” With a groan, she leaned over and scooped up some dirt, then rubbed it between her fingers. “See how it’s tinged red? Rich in iron.” She grunted. “That’s good for tobacco.”
“Cuban cigars are worth more than sugarcane exports, even if they’re illegal to import into the States.” I eyed the acreage, still surprised by the size of the plantation.
“Forty hectares,” Linford stated, sensing my curiosity.
I nodded in thanks, then snorted when Seph mumbled, “If you’re done discussing our mate’s heritage, she’s stirring.”
Instantly dropping down to my knees, uncaring of the dirt, I crouched over her. The beast inside me wasn’t happy at her lack of consciousness, but equally, I was relieved we were secured and away from the troupes back in Honolulu.
There was the huge mess of Gabriella’s undead state to sort out, but for the moment, I needed to know what was going on with Riel.
Her eyelids were fluttering and her wings, which had retracted the second she’d connected with the ground, popped out once more. The sight of them, fully black, had my eyes widening.
As was the way with our kind, we were born with darker hued wings, and the more they were kissed by the sun, the more the rays bleached them. She’d only had hers out on display for the past nine or so months, so hers had started to streak with lighter colors, but said streaks of gold were no more. They were black, dense black, with only flecks of gray here and there. Each individual feather was rustling too, shifting like Riel was cold.
“Is she hurting?” I rasped, asking no one in particular, aware that none of us really knew the answer to that.
What we’d just done was unprecedented, and that I wasn’t feeling any of the backlash—aside from a desire to fall into a bed and never leave—told me that she’d taken the full whack of it.
We’d caught a meteor. A fucking meteor. Like it had been slingshotted through space, just waiting for our makeshift catcher’s mitt to call out to the universe, “Strike!”
Riel had concocted some kind of magical net, one that she’d used to harness the meteor. We’d each sliced into our forearms, allowed our blood to strengthen the net, and after, with it safely in our grasp, had brought it down to Earth where we’d been met with Riel’s supposedly dead grandmother and a battalion of Fae troupes who wanted to know where the meteor was…
I blew out a breath and asked, “The kind of radiation she absorbed, that should have killed her. Sol, us.”
“It’s not as the humans would have us believe,” Gabriella mumbled, but her brow was puckered in concern. “The radiation is not negative, but a positive.”
“What do you mean?” Seph questioned, shooting her a look before reverting his attention to Riel, who was still fidgeting in her sleep. It was like a micro-seizure or something, the way she was moving. It had me on edge, no word of a lie.
“Meteorites that fall to Earth and collide with it bring death, but they also bring powers. Every time one crashes into us, it brings us something. A gift from
the universe. Sometimes, it’s something major. Virgo, human born Fae, a boost of magic. Sometimes, it’s a new talent. A new means of exploring magic.”
“What kind of means?” I queried, frowning at her.
“My ability to create portals, to erase minds,” Linford explained, “isn’t just because of my Fae blood and ability with the runes.”
Gabriella snorted. “His troupe was in Russia, awaiting the Tunguska event.”
I blinked. “I’ve heard of that. It was a massive meteorite impact.”
“Massive? Nothing bigger for centuries,” Linford stated proudly. “Knocked over eighty million trees.”
“They never found the impact site,” I said slowly.
“Of course not. We hid it,” Linford murmured dryly.
“You hid it?” I spluttered. How in Gaia’s name did you hide a meteorite?
“Beneath a lake we fashioned.” He rubbed his chin. “Those were the days. Now, everything has to be accounted for on social media. Then, we did as we so chose, damn the consequences.”
“Shut up, you old fool,” Gabriella grumbled. “You speak as one of the Fae and not one whose granddaughter is in danger.”
Linford’s nose crinkled as she whacked him on the side. “True.”
I blew out a breath. “Look, I think we deserve some answers here. Our mate is knocked out, we’re thousands of miles away after a battalion tried to… what? Detain us? You need to help us understand.”
“I don’t need to help you do anything,” Gabriella countered snootily. “But I shall, because then you can explain things to Riel when she awakens.”
“Thank you.” I think.
Sol, it was quite easy to discern where our woman got her attitude from.
“You’re supposed to be dead,” Dan pointed out, ever helpful.
“As you can see, I’m not,” Gabriella replied, but she sounded amused now. “Nine years ago, Linny and I decided that it was time I left my family.”
Linny?
I shot the Fae male a look, but he didn’t seem perturbed at the butchering of his name.
I hid my twitching lips and asked, “Why? What happened nine years ago?”
“My daughter was being difficult. I’d lied to her for so long and my lies were coming home to roost,” Gabriella admitted. “I needed her to act, and she wouldn’t, couldn’t because I’d conditioned the fear in her.” She blew out a breath. “I’ve kept an eye on my nieta, but from a distance, it’s easier said than done.” When Riel moaned, she flinched and murmured, “We should get her to a bed. This discussion needn’t take place in the middle of our fields.”
“How did you need her to act?” Dan asked as Seph carefully gathered our still twitching mate into his arms and, with his own wings, hefted them both upright.
Gabriella pointed to the farmhouse, and a blue glow engulfed her hand as the door ahead burst open. The manifestation of her powers didn’t surprise me, not after what her granddaughter could do, but I certainly took note of it. I felt like Dan and Seph registered the blue haze too, because it had to mean something, didn’t it? Exactly what, of course, was a question I didn’t know how to answer.
When we began walking toward the homestead, she explained, “Gabriella wasn’t very adept with magic. My daughter was ashamed of that. Instead of persevering as I wanted her to, she gave up and stopped teaching her the Way.
“I couldn’t tell her why Gabriella was different. Couldn’t tell her what she needed to know to help her, but everything I tried, regardless, never worked.
“Not being able to rely on the Conclave made things harder still, and I knew I was only going to make things more stressful for the family if I didn’t stop butting in.
“When the AFata began sniffing around us again, then Linny and I knew it was time to scatter with safeguards in place.”
I pondered that for a second, and decided she made sense. “Why do the AFata want you?”
“They don’t anymore. They believe I’m dead, of course. But they wanted me because I can manifest. Not many can, and it’s not always something you can inherit. My daughter inherited the power, but it fluctuates around the equinoxes. Gabriella did—equinox or not. I saw a few flutters in her when she was young, even saw how she messed up our magic by just being around us and knew, one day, she’d be strong.” Though there was pride in her tone, she still shrugged. “But to manifest is to compound our powers in a way that few can begin to understand. It’s the difference between being able to light a candle with a single flick of my fingers and to set alight a forest.”
Seph paused on his trek. “You can do that?”
“Yes. Claro. And considering what Gabriella has just done, I’d imagine she can do a lot worse.”
“What do you mean?” I rasped.
“I mean, the power the meteor harnessed was something that the entirety of Hawaii should have felt. Honolulu would have been the epicenter of change, but it should have spread out, the radiation bleeding throughout the island and permeating the ocean, sending change to the four corners of the globe.
“Instead, that all went into Gabriella. And you three.”
Linford cleared his throat, then began, “I touched the Tunguska meteorite a few hours after it impacted. I was given the ability to erase minds and to craft portals through my Fae magic. That was a simple touch. What do you think Gabriella has gained by absorbing the majority of the meteor’s power? What do you think you’ve gained?”
“Sweet Sol,” Seph ground out, staring down at our unconscious mate.
“She wasn’t supposed to do what she did,” Riel’s grandmother whispered. “She was supposed to touch the meteorite after it had landed. That was it. That was my abuela’s vision. Gaia only knows what she’s done to herself by acting as she did.”
❖
Daniel
Several shards of sunlight pierced the dining room window, sending glittery rays dancing along the Formica table. It was scratched and scarred, just like everything else in the farmstead.
I’d been raised in the admin caste which, to most Fae, meant I was poor. But poverty had a different standard in all the races. Poverty to witches and humans, I was learning, was nothing in contrast to a Fae’s notion of it.
I hadn’t been raised in an estate, hadn’t had fighting lessons from my fifth birthday, and hadn’t been able to access a family tithe of magic from birth.
In my world, that meant I was poor.
In this world?
Gaia, I’d been a millionaire.
I’d been raised in a seven-bedroom house with a three-member family. My mother had worked, not because she had to, but to stave off boredom, and my father had a diplomat’s job that put us in the upper echelon of the admin caste, but it still hadn’t put us in the instructor one.
My very middle-class upbringing had never been rammed home to me more than it was now. And from what Riel had told me about her childhood, with nine mouths to feed and her being the one who took up a lot of the childminding because of her gender, I figured that moving to the States hadn’t improved the family’s fortunes any.
At least, I hoped for her sake it had, but somehow, I didn’t see it.
Gabriella served us some coffee, thick and brewed from a pot on the stove that she’d used magic to start. I took a sip of the thick concoction and barely hid a grimace.
“Azúcar?” she asked me, apparently sensing my distaste for the strong, bitter brew.
Clearing my throat, I replied, “Please.” Lots and lots of sugar.
Her lips twitched and with a wave of a hand, a bowl of sugar appeared. I threw in five teaspoons, well aware that not even that quantity would breach the acidic tang that was inherent to the drink.
When I took a sip, it was salvageable, so I didn’t add any more, but the others did, and Sol, I knew that whatever we were doing tonight, we’d be up and about with little to no effort thanks to the caffeine and sugar high this concoction was bound to give us.
The second we’d placed Riel on a
rickety wooden bed, Linford had disappeared. Seph and Matthew had enhanced the bed to make it bigger, and as awkward as it had been—cleaned the mattress. We were all uneasy as we took in this place. Our standards were a lot higher than Gabriella’s, that was for sure, as she barely used her magic to clean the place up, but that didn’t mean we wanted to embarrass her with that.
Riel was tucked into a bed that would fit the four of us, but the frame was just extended. It was as ramshackle as it had been before. Above the bed, there was a cross-stitch picture of a sunset, and a few rustic terracotta bowls on an old dresser that I tried to tell myself weren’t for washing. Because, sweet Sol, this wasn’t nineteen-fifteen. Who washed out of a bowl and jug these days? And where, oh where, was a functioning toilet?
Wincing at the thought, I watched as Gabriella Sr. finally took a seat at the table and, resting one hand on top of the other, murmured, “You have questions.”
“Yeah, quite a few,” I added wryly.
She sighed but nodded. “It’s a shame Gabriella isn’t awake. She’ll need to hear this story too, but I was right earlier. She’ll take it better from her Virgo.” Reaching up, she plucked at her bottom lip, and I could sense that this wasn’t a story she wanted to drag up again.
Because of that, I inquired, “Maybe tell us about Linford? And… I guess, Noa? Seph’s dad?”
Gabriella pursed her lips, but I saw the relief and gratitude in her eyes as she shot me a look. “Linford’s troupe was at the Tunguska event, as we told you. It took place in 1908, before I was even born, but when we met, they had extra powers.”
“What can my father do?”
“He’s the flying equivalent of Usain Bolt,” she commented wryly. “His speed in the sky was incredible when he was younger. The magic he could make with runes was eye-opening too, but Linford erased most of that from his memory banks. Noa was always a dab hand with blood magic, even if he liked to think he was too good for it.”
“Why? Why would Linford do that?” Seph questioned sharply, his curiosity piqued.
The Ascended: The Eight Wings Collection Page 41