by LeAnn Mason
The way he said it made my previous lifestyle sound so… bleh.
“You believe it was a druid?” he guessed, reading upside down.
“Makes the most sense. Do you… know any?” Being older and wiser theoretically made one more knowledgeable of the world and its residents. Well, being aware of the supernatural world for more than, oh, a few months could give a guy a head start.
“I know of a few but have never spoken to them. They are rare and keep to themselves. It would be hard to simply hunt them down. In fact, I am not sure if they work with runes. I will put feelers out if you like, but I ask you to continue your work with the Harbingers of Death until you find what you seek.”
My eyes narrowed at the pointed remark, an indication he knew of my burgeoning desire to abandon ship. “Not like I have anywhere else to go.” Yet. “Thanks for the help.”
“Of course. You are, at present, one of my constituents.”
Was that also a pointed reminder? What was he getting at? “What did you wanna talk to me about?” My head tilted, silver hair sliding across my back and over a shoulder, as I closed the book and set it aside, ready to pounce if the moment called for it.
“I was hoping to speak to you in my office. Would you kindly follow me?”
His office? The forbidden area I’d not yet seen? Oh no.
The library would make me think twice about taking my siren-juiced fantasies to the next level. But alone with him in his office? I flushed at the mere thought of the possibilities.
“Am I in trouble?” I asked in an attempt to move my thoughts away from getting sweaty. He’d sworn I’d done nothing wrong, disagreeing with the ruffled birds and mourning dog, but maybe he’d changed his mind or I’d done something else wrong. Maybe he wanted to put me into remedial training because I’d screwed up so hard. If he made me spar with Cole again, it might be the end of “Cupcake” as the hellhound liked to call me.
What I really needed help on was the screaming part. Handling the visions and controlling my ability to scope out our targets could be nurtured. But we had no one to guide me with that since Mom was gone… Only some mystical druid, possibly out there somewhere, who couldn’t teach me to harness my banshee wails but did supposedly have the magic to zip my lips. If she still existed.
Seke shook his head, and I watched that stray strand on his forehead shift. “Quite the opposite. I’d like to talk to you about your next assignment.”
It felt like I had been summoned to the principal’s office for detention. My notions of getting sticky and sweaty together vanished once Seke’s warm hand had left my back. His escort complete, he then left to change out of his mourning attire. Butterflies more akin to nausea than excitement decided to play bumper cars in my stomach while I awaited his return. Pacing the small area, I tried to distract myself by inspecting the various antiques decorating the spotless room.
There were framed papyrus pages bearing hieroglyphs, an ornate crook leaning against a corner, some kind of small jade beetle, and a dark black stone carving of a jackal on a shelf. And entombed within his glass desk in the middle of the space was a literal mummy.
Concealing the dead man’s wrapped face was a computer that felt unusually modern in the room, and some files lay atop the glass box, which was acting as a makeshift sarcophagus. I wondered if the man had some relation to Seke. Or maybe it was the body of the first soul he had ferried across to Duat, the place he’d said was the ancient Egyptian underworld, a memento of his first success. Was Jessica interacting with that man on the other side?
“Aria.”
I jumped for the second time and whirled to face Seke. I absolutely hated being caught off guard, and it irritated me that he was so readily able to render me unprepared.
More tempting out of his mourning attire, Seke’s lean, muscular build was completely veiled by the gray, three-piece suit, but it hugged him much like I wanted to, giving hints of the body that lay beneath.
What had I said about leaving me alone in a room with this god?
“Thank you for coming,” he said, holding out a hand to indicate that I should take a seat on the brown leather couch against the far wall. I noticed that the end table had a lovely blue and white vase atop it that looked decidedly Eastern Asian. It was the first thing I’d noticed that didn’t scream “Egyptian”. I wondered what else I could find among his things if left to explore on my own, which I wasn’t.
“Not like I had a choice,” I muttered. He was my captain after all. At least, for the time being. I was kinda stuck doing the HDPU thing until I figured out who to turn to in order to find an off switch for my vocal freak-outs. The mundane part of my life had gone tits-up when my powers began to leak.
Seke leaned toward the desk to grab a file. “I have your next harbinger assignment.”
He was being oddly formal, almost cryptic. We hadn’t been so straight to business for months now. Something was off.
“I thought you told Raven that we were taking a bereavement absence and to relearn how to work together as a smaller team?”
I had mixed feelings about jumping back in so fast. Not that I wanted to redo my training, as much as getting sweaty with Seke had been delicious. Sitting around the bunker was just going to let me wallow in my guilt… and give the others time to plot their implementation of my murder.
Now that was a question: We know now that I can predict supernatural deaths… but can I predict my own?
“Correct. We, the HDPU, are not.” I noticed the emphasis on the subject of that sentence as well as his refusal to meet my eyes. Without opening it, Seke passed me the folder. “You are.”
“I don’t understand.” Keeping my hands in my lap, I stared into his impassive face, seeking some kind of reassurance or clue about what that meant. Was I going in alone? Did he fear that the others were in danger with me? Was I going to have to do a mission alone to prove I wasn’t a liability?
“Please.” A nod of his head suggested that I should read the file myself, but he added a soft smile, one he knew I was a sucker for, as encouragement. “I think this will be a good opportunity for you. You have much to learn, room to grow. I would like to see you really explore your full potential.”
Uneasy, I took the folder, flicked it open, and only needed to read a few sentences of the typed memo to get the gist of what was happening.
“Reassigned?” Suddenly too warm, I stood up, my thoughts churning and brows slamming down. “You’re kicking me off the team?”
He didn’t flinch at my harsh accusation. “Please, sit.” I didn’t. “The director decided to reassign you, yes,” he continued when I wordlessly insisted on looming over him, crossing my arms and widening my stance. “Your abilities are unique, a miracle. They should be shared. It was only by chance we were the ones to find you. All Harbingers have their skills weighed and their fit measured once their powers come into being — usually at puberty. Your situation, with the deterioration of a bind, is nearly unheard of. It is best that you try out other units where you might feel a... better fit.” His words were halting, reluctant, like he chose them carefully.
“You’re saying I don’t fit with you guys, in this team.”
I already knew that I didn’t fit. Hell, everyone except Seke had literally said they didn’t want me here. But the crushing weight of being forsaken tore up my insides because now Seke was agreeing, telling me to leave.
I thought there was something between us, was what I wanted to say, but I wouldn’t stoop to show such vulnerability. Not now. “I thought you said you wanted me to stay until I find what I seek?” I said instead.
At that, his gaze shifted downcast again, staring at my boots, which, along with my gauges and piercings, were the only things of my old life I had. “We would like you to continue to be a member of the Harbingers of Death. Your skills are incredibly useful to our mission.”
‘We’ was code for ‘the director’. “You don’t want me.” I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from tearing up.
I would not cry over this; unlike losing Jessica, this was business.
Never let them know they’ve gotten to you. Buck up, Buttercup.
He rose, coming to full height; he loomed over me, his beautiful greenish-brown gaze flicking between my eyes. “You are always welcome back should that be the right course of action.”
Swallowing, I nodded. I would not let his magnetism lull me into accepting his decision gracefully. As far as I was concerned, the request — the order — was a betrayal. I backed away. The file crunched as I hugged it to my chest. Getting attached was dumb. Seke felt nothing for me. Just like the rest of them.
Fine. I was used to being uprooted and taken from friends before I had a chance to know them.
Never stay in any one place long enough to make connections. Your attachments are a liability.
Dad had added that lesson after Mom went. And now, Jessica was gone. Lesson confirmed. Looked like my inclination to run had been the right one. My time here was over. I could nearly feel the ice once again encrust my heart, ensuring the organ was impenetrable to the fallacy of affection.
“Got it. Yep. No problem. I’ll be out of your way tomorrow morning, if I’m allowed one night to pack and rest up. And then you guys can work on healing and moving on... And…”
My brain couldn’t keep up with my babble. I gave up on finishing the inane well-wishes I didn’t actually feel to push my way blindly out the door. The need to be far away from the Egyptian god of death fueled my retreat.
“Aria,” Seke called plaintively after me. “Please, understand this is for the best. For all of us.” Shadows pulled and swirled around him as if of their own accord, as if he did it absently, reflexively. It was a defense mechanism I’d witnessed once before — when I’d kicked him in his ancient Egyptian jewels.
Not like I could hurt him now, though I kind of wish I would. He’d hurt me.
Running upstairs toward my bedroom — no, not my bedroom anymore — I nearly crashed into Cole and his girls making their way down.
“Watch it, cupcake,” Cole snapped, pulling Ember out of my way before I barreled over her.
The rejection I’d felt was swiftly turning to anger. “Don’t worry, dog,” I snarled as I kept going. “I won’t get in your way ever again.” I lifted my middle finger in a goodbye salute to the HDPU.
6
If I’d thought it would be easy living without the HDPU, I was sorely mistaken.
And I mean sorely. Every fucking muscle in my fucking body burns like hellfire.
I’d trained my whole life and been through some rigorous pounding with Cole and Raven as my opponents, but nothing prepared me for harbinger boot camp.
Okay, they didn’t call it that. The recruiters called it ‘testing.’ The training facility was intended to challenge new recruits and explore their full range of abilities and potential. Something about isolating their strong suits and predicting their best fit in the HD network.
“Screaming” wasn’t really one of their normal tests, so I was put through a gamut of other horrors that pushed my body and mind to the limits. It was like the Olympics — if I was a one-woman team. I sampled all of the sports and games I could think of and then some. Within the span of a week, I’d run, swam, biked, climbed, tried skiing, and even ziplined. Not to mention the brutal obstacle courses that called for Parkour.
The knowledge tests were my least favorite. My homeschooling wasn’t the most robust, though I was pretty sure I aced the mythology portions.
My favorite activity was sparring. No one cared what style of fighting I used here — it was about assessing what I could do, not critiquing my style — and I was all kinds of dirty. I hadn’t made enemies per se with my knee-to-the-groin specialty, but no one went out of their way to chat with me.
I didn’t mind.
Even here, I was an anomaly. The only banshee. I got strange looks and wide berths. No one was there long enough to make friends anyway. There were only about eight other recruits on the same cycle as me with others coming and going. And they were almost all about ten years younger than me. It was pretty much as alienating as my first days in the clink. Joining the Harbingers of Death hadn’t been the most revitalizing decision for my social life. Not that said social life had been banging prior to my supernatural onboarding. But it hadn’t done it any favors.
Most mornings, I woke up asking myself why I stayed. Each time I pulled on my assigned uniform — only slightly comfier than the prison garb — before starting the day and every time I peeled the heavy, sweat-laden fabric from my body before bed, I stared at the tattoo glistening like a mirage on my pale-ass skin. The same color as my hair, those slashed lines niggled at me. The only way to find out more about the druids and find out if they could fix the fucking bind on my powers was to stick it out in the supe community. For now. I wouldn’t find answers, let alone a druid out in the human world. And to be honest, I didn’t really have anywhere else to go.
I didn’t even know where we were since they’d pulled a Cole so I couldn’t reveal the location of the camp to anyone. I’d gotten into the sleek car when it pulled up outside the bunker and, within seconds, had been robbed of my sight. The drive took hours, much of which I ended up sleeping through — thankfully. Peopling would have been much too hard at that point.
Leaving the HDPU had been… hard, to say the least. There was a bright side to all of the working out at the testing facility — no time or energy to wallow in self-pity or what-ifs.
Between all of the exhausting tests where I was observed, poked, prodded, pricked, and monitored by grunting, monosyllabic drill-sergeant types, there were only about seven hours of downtime in each twenty-four-hour period. Those precious hours were split between mess hall meals of bland, high-protein food, showers that were shorter than the ones I’d enjoyed in prison, and tossing and turning on thin cots only to wake up with a stiff neck, aching muscles, and heavy eyes.
Super fun.
In fact, it reminded me of prison in a lot of ways.
While the games and tests were harrowing, I wasn’t really bad at any of them. I guessed I could attribute that fact to the aforementioned training my parents and Seke had forced on me, though it sucked that I wasn’t spectacular at anything. Unlike the other supes, I didn’t really have a physical advantage in any one way. No fins or wings or even sharp fangs or claws for fighting.
All I could do was scream and draw danger directly to me. At least, that’s how I’d been perceived at my initial deployment.
In the end, I was pretty sure the testers — maybe even the director him or herself — had just closed their eyes and jabbed at the pinboard of open spots. I won the lucky post no one else seemed ideal to fill.
And that’s how I found myself getting out of a taxi at an airport, ready to fly to my new team… wherever they were based. I had no idea if my new unit was waiting across the world. Or, hell, even Antarctica.
I could go for some time abroad, some distance from my last unit.
I’d never been on a plane in my life. You needed a government-issued, federally approved ID and all that. Good fakes cost a fortune, and I hadn’t had more than two nickels to rub together most of my years bouncing around alone. My parents and I had stuck to driving run-down beaters purchased with cash or boarding smelly bus after smelly bus, trying to lose a tail I wasn’t aware of.
Easy to get lost if you don’t know where you are.
I thought Seke meant the lesson as a warning in the sense of ‘get your head in the game’. But when you don’t care where you are as long as you’re impossible to find, the sage advice turns into a perfect descriptor for my life.
I had mixed feelings about getting as far away as possible from the HDPU, from Seke and his lessons. My mind slipped, drifting into one of the good memories I had of him before he sent me away...
There we were, staring at each other from the mirrored depths of the repaired wall in the bunker’s gym. My glacial irises were wide as they watched Seke position
my body the way he wanted — like a mannequin or a marionette. Except... the touch that glided across my skin, never breaking contact, was much more a caress than clinical or necessary.
It was as if Seke wanted to touch me, to dive his hands over every tangible surface. I never would have believed it, but the soft, almost reverent look on his normally stoic face pushed the whimsical thought to the fore of my mind.
He just might…
“You ready?”
Fingers snapped in front of my face, though I couldn’t hear the sound over the gale-force winds ripping through the damaged cockpit and the terrified screams behind me.
I hadn’t even known my team was, in fact, aboard the same plane and not awaiting me at the landing gate until it had flown straight into a large flock of birds while climbing to cruising altitude.
The poor animals had effectively become projectiles, cannonballing into the craft’s windshield and turbine engines. Sadly, I suspected none of the decimated birds were Raven.
A few folks beelined for my seat and gave just their names briefly while my heart beat too loudly for me to hear and my brain screamed too nonsensically for me to process their words. My panic gave me some inkling of the disaster I was embroiled in, but once one of the harbingers unbuckled my seatbelt and pulled me out of my ready-for-crash stance, I saw the hole blown in the side of the craft when one of the engines exploded. It all clicked.
I wasn’t heading to the mission. This was the mission. This plane was going down in flames, hard and fast.
Guess the Air Unit skips orientation, just like the HDPU.
Or else, the director decided an odd-ball case like mine called for more hands-on tests to ascertain my fit.
“Let’s go, newbie. We gotta bail if we’re going to catch up to our charges.” Dave, I think he said his name was, my new captain, grabbed my arm and pulled me back toward the exposed belly of the plane. Such a mundane and ordinary name. Not like those of my…
Nope. Don’t do it, Aria.