Embolden

by Syrie James

  “What? No way!” Claire protested. “I’ve never been in a play before, ever.”

  Erica stopped beside her car with a shrug. “We’ll see. The callback list goes up Wednesday morning.”

  Alec fired up the engine of his Mustang with a smile. “Well, until then, good luck. Both of you.”

  Claire kissed Alec good-bye through his open car window. “See you tomorrow.”

  “Ditto.” He smiled as he backed out and took off.

  Claire drove home, her mind a mixture of worry and excitement. She’d suggested the play as a way to spend more time with Alec after school. But what if it backfired? It was obvious to her that he’d get a leading role in the show. But what if she didn’t get in?

  On the other hand, the fact that he’d committed to the play was a good sign. It meant, despite his earlier anxiety, that he was comfortable enough with his human life to stick around. At least for the next three months. The lyrics of his audition song wafted through her memory, comforting her: No, never could I leave you at all!

  As she turned onto her street, her thoughts veered in a different direction. She spotted her grandmother a half block ahead, jogging, clad in black spandex leggings and a sports bra. Claire had to admit, Helena looked amazing for being 875 years old (or thereabouts).

  Slowing the car to a crawl beside her, Claire lowered the passenger window, and called out, “Hey, foxy lady.”

  “Hey yourself.” Glancing in Claire’s direction, she added, “Bless you.”

  “What do you mean—” Claire began. Suddenly, she sneezed. “Show-off! Your visions used to be so much more exciting.”

  “Prepare to be excited, then. Meet me upstairs. I have news.”

  “About what?” Claire’s curiosity was piqued.

  Helena shot her a meaningful look as she sped ahead. “I have just seen your father.”

  eight

  Claire burst into the condo to find Helena in the kitchen, swigging a tall glass of cucumber water.

  “You saw my father?” Claire cried eagerly. “When? Where?”

  Helena set her glass on the counter and dabbed at the perspiration on her chest with a small towel. “The where has yet to be determined. The when was this morning, while I was meditating.”

  Claire’s spirits deflated. “Oh. You didn’t see him in person. It was a vision.”

  “Do not sound so disappointed. I managed to revisit the moment when Tom was kidnapped and confirmed that your friend was right. Whatever substance those men injected Tom with, it changed the frequency of his aura to a new wavelength. Probably to hide him from the Grigori’s watching eyes. It explains why I could not detect a presence of him all these years. I was looking for the wrong aura.”

  “Do you think the Fallen still have him?”

  “I have no idea. But the good news is, I know what to look for now. And if you and I meditate together, we’ll be casting an even wider net.”

  “Really?” Claire was excited. She’d communed with Helena psychically before, but it was the first time her grandmother had ever proposed that they meditate together. “I’m in! When should we do it?”

  “There is no time like the present. Just let me have a quick shower. Grab your father’s blazer and meet me in my bedroom in ten minutes.”

  Putting her cell phone on silent, Claire scampered into her mom’s bedroom and retrieved the brown corduroy sport coat they’d carried with them every time they moved. The coat meant almost as much to her as it did to her mom since communing with it had given Claire her first vision of her father.

  “How are we going to do this?” Claire asked a few minutes later, entering Helena’s antiques-laden room to find her clad in a cobalt satin robe. “Do we sit on the floor in a circle of candles or something?”

  “Pointless theatrics.” Helena lay back on her queen-sized bed, patting the space next to her. “Put the jacket on and lie down next to me.”

  “You want me to wear it?”

  “The more bodily contact you have with it, the better.”

  Claire slipped into the jacket and stretched out on the bed beside her grandmother, filled with anticipation. The coat was way too big for her, but as she wrapped her arms around herself to hold it closed, she felt a slight tingle where the fabric touched her bare fingers.

  “Close your eyes and take my hand.”

  Claire did as instructed. The moment she gripped Helena’s hand, Claire felt a sensation similar to what she’d experienced months ago when Helena was in a coma. All sound vanished, and her vision filled with bright light. Then she seemed to be in an empty, white space, holding Helena’s hand and standing beside her.

  “Welcome back to the Grigori Nexus,” Helena greeted her.

  Claire glanced around the blank expanse. “Not very stylish for a telepathic hub.”

  “On the contrary. A clean slate makes it easy to pick out incongruent signals across the network.” Helena released Claire’s hand. “For this to work, you need to know how your father’s aura has changed. Take a look.”

  The whiteness around them slowly filled with the sights and sounds of a busy New York City street. They were back at the moment when they’d last glimpsed her father. Claire tensed anxiously as she watched the three men hold down her father on the sidewalk, while another came at him with a syringe. Then the action paused.

  “Can you see his aura?” Helena asked.

  Claire concentrated hard, until she could see the soft, golden glow that shimmered all around her father. “Yeah.”

  “Keep watching.”

  In slow motion, the needle jammed into her dad’s neck. As the plunger was depressed, Tom’s aura withered to a dingy brown. The sight sparked a sick feeling in the pit of Claire’s stomach, and at the same time reverberated inside her mind, like a mild electric shock accompanied by the sounds of a discordant drum.

  Claire cringed as she raised a hand to her forehead. “Oh God. Okay. I don’t just see it. I can feel it.”

  “So can I. I am sorry it is so unpleasant. But it shows how strong the Fallen’s hold is over Tom. And now you know what we are seeking. Keep that sight and feeling in your mind as we look outward.”

  The sights and sounds around them faded, taking away Claire’s physical discomfort and leaving her and Helena in blessed white emptiness.

  “Concentrate with me,” Helena said.

  Claire focused with all her might to maintain a mental impression of her father’s new aura. The air around them gradually filled with glowing dots. Claire squinted at them, realizing they were fuzzy images of people moving to and fro surrounded by glowing auras, gold for the Grigori, blue for Nephilim.

  “It’s like we’re in Cerebro,” Claire mused.

  “Focus,” Helena replied curtly. “Look for an aura that is murky brown, with the signal you experienced.”

  A few minutes ticked by. Then Claire saw it. A dim brown orb that flickered on and off like a dying lightbulb, and sparked the same sick feeling in her stomach. “There!”

  “Yes. Yes!” Helena enthused. “I see it, too.”

  Claire stared hard at the brown dot, the discordant sounds in her mind increasing as they zoomed in on it, and the other dots faded away.

  An image of a man began to come into focus until they were in the same space as him. He lay in bed in a dimly lit room, his eyes closed, the muddy aura surrounding him. Claire swallowed hard, her head and heart pounding. Could this be her dad? His dark brown hair brushed his shoulders, and he had a mustache and beard. But on a second look, she knew it was him.

  “We did it. We found him!” Claire cried. “But where are we?”

  “It looks like a hotel room.”

  Heavy drapes covered the windows, masking whatever lay outside and casting the room in deep shadow. The bed, headboard, nightstands, and lamps all looked like the modern, mass-produced furniture typic
al of high-end hotel suites. Tom’s head rested against a pillow, his face contorted as if in concentration.

  “He’s trying to use his power, isn’t he?” Claire asked. “Is that why we can see an aura?”

  “Yes.”

  Her father spoke. “What time is it?”

  Another voice came out of the darkness, a deep male voice that sounded weary yet professional. “It’s nine o’clock, Mr. Boulanger.”

  Boulanger? Claire thought.

  “I’m thirsty.” Tom’s tone was sharp, yet polite. “May I have a glass of water, please?”

  A light laugh met this request. A bald, broad-shouldered man in a dark suit appeared beside the bed. Claire didn’t recognize him. “I know what you’re trying to do. And it’s not going to work.”

  Tom’s eyes blinked open, his face an expressionless mask. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Give it up. You’re wasting your time.” The man tapped his right ear, as if that meant something. “But it looks like your next pick-me-up will have to be a little earlier than scheduled.”

  Tom tried to sit up, glaring angrily, only to be restrained by a long cord that seemed to be anchored somewhere below the bed. Struggling fiercely against the bonds, he cried out between clenched teeth, “Damn you! Why are you doing this? I need to see my wife and daughter!”

  The man withdrew a hypodermic syringe from his blazer and prepped it. “There, there, Mr. Boulanger. We’ve already been over this many times. You need to calm down.” He grabbed Tom and injected him. As the contents of the syringe emptied into Tom’s arm, his struggling eased, and, finally, he went limp.

  “Get some rest, you have a big day tomorrow.” The guy smirked and disappeared back into the shadows. Tom’s eyes fluttered closed, his aura fading away, as the entire scene around them began to flicker and fragment.

  “We’re losing him!” Tears pooled in Claire’s eyes.

  A heartbeat later, they were surrounded by white nothingness again. “Stars above.” Helena sounded strained. “That was far more exhausting than it should have been.”

  “Claire? Helena? Are you home?” It was Lynn’s voice coming at them from far away.

  Claire felt herself being ripped out of the white void and back into her grandmother’s bedroom, as if she’d just awakened from a dream. Sitting up on the bed, she blinked to get her bearings. “We’re in here, Mom.”

  Lynn entered and paused. She looked like she’d come straight from her self-defense class, a gym bag slung over her sweaty shoulder. “Oh. I’m sorry. Were you taking a nap?”

  “I do not nap,” Helena replied tartly.

  Claire dabbed at her eyes. “We were doing psychic stuff, Mom. Grandma found Dad’s new aura. It’s different now because he’s being poisoned by drugs. He was chained up in a hotel room. It was horrible.”

  “Dear God.” Lynn, visibly stricken, set down her bag. “Where was this? And when? In the past, or is it happening now?”

  “No clue,” Helena replied. “It was a generic hotel room. It could have been anywhere—today, or years ago. But it definitely was not the day we saw him taken. His hair was longer, and he had a beard.”

  “So they did recapture him after he called me that morning. They might still have him now.”

  Claire’s lip trembled. “We have to go back and look for him again, Grandma.”

  “I am as anxious to find him as you are,” Helena answered, “but we cannot try anything again just yet. It is too dangerous.”

  “Dangerous? Why?”

  “If we tap into the Nexus for too long, the Fallen, or worse yet, the Grigori, might catch wind of what we are doing. If the Grigori find Tom through us, and we have not reported his whereabouts—”

  “They might put us all on trial for treason,” Lynn finished glumly.

  “Oh.” Claire felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her. “But we have to do something. Why did that guy call Dad ‘Mr. Boulanger’? They must know his real name. And why are the Fallen doing this? Alec said that drugs inhibit a Grigori’s gifts. If they want to use Dad for his visions, that makes no sense.”

  “Drugs do not eliminate one’s gifts entirely,” Helena replied. “He could still be useful to them, even in a drugged state.”

  Claire heaved a deep sigh. “That is so screwed up.”

  Helena looked equally solemn. “Quite.”

  Claire ran her fingers through her long brown hair. “Wait. What power was Dad using, which gave him an aura? He was just asking for a glass of water. But the man got all weird about it. What was it he said? ‘I know what you’re trying to do. And it’s not going to work.’ What did he mean?”

  Helena shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  Claire studied her grandmother, puzzled. She sensed that Helena was lying.

  A memory bubbled up in Claire’s mind. Something Vincent once told her. You are closer to a Grigori in strength than anyone else on the planet, he’d said. The Fallen will go to any length to recruit you.

  And then the kicker:

  Your genes may also be hiding the other half of your father’s talents.

  Her other power. The one she didn’t know anything about but might develop someday. Claire’s voice hardened. “Vincent said my dad has another ability, besides looking at the past and future. Do you know what it is?”

  Helena glanced away, her lips compressed. “That is not important.”

  “How could it not be important? It could be the reason the Fallen are keeping him prisoner! Do you know, Mom?”

  Lynn shook her head, her eyes wide.

  “Vincent looked like he was afraid when he mentioned it,” Claire continued. “What could the Grigori find so threatening?”

  Still Helena remained silent.

  “Please, Grandma. You must know what Dad’s other power is. If there’s a chance I might have that power, too, you need to tell me! I have a right to know.”

  Helena sighed. “All right, yes, I do know. And I suspect that is why the Fallen have taken Tom. But there is no point in discussing a mere speculation. If you have your father’s other power, you will find out yourself in time. Trust me. I have good reasons for not telling you now.”

  “Name one.”

  “If you know about this power, you will start looking for it in yourself.”

  “No I won’t! I swear I won’t,” Claire protested.

  “You will,” Helena insisted. “You will not be able to avoid doing so. You are tainted by your human blood, after all.”

  “Thanks for that,” Lynn snorted.

  “If you do possess this power,” Helena went on, “the temptation to use it will be impossible to ignore. Trying it even once will only embolden you to make further attempts. The ramifications can prove extremely dangerous. Dear Lord, I see that the longer I talk, the more curious you are. This discussion is over.”

  Claire had never felt so frustrated in her life. A door had just been opened, then instantly slammed shut without a glimpse of what lay inside. “So. What? We’re going to do nothing for my dad? Nothing at all?”

  “We will, in time.”

  “Am I supposed to just forget about this, go about my day like everything’s totally normal?”

  “Child, nothing about your life has been normal for quite some time. Still, we all must soldier on.”

  “Cut the ‘stiff upper lip’ bullshit!” Claire exclaimed.

  “Claire!” her mother admonished.

  Claire marched for the door. “Let me know when enough ‘time’ has passed, Grandma, to look for Dad without pissing off the celestial guard or clueing in the bad guys. Meanwhile, this child will be in her room, avoiding her secret, evil power.”

  She slammed the door to her bedroom behind her, fresh tears threatening to fall.

  nine

  “I hate to say it, but I agree with your gra
ndmother,” Alec admitted as he unlocked the various deadbolts on his front door, clutching his cell phone in the crook of his neck, a bag of groceries in one hand and his apartment keys in the other.

  “You’re not supposed to be on her side,” Claire complained over the phone, “you’re my knight in shining armor.”

  Alec grinned as he closed the door, sparing a little mental focus to telekinetically flip on the lights. “I don’t wear armor, love.”

  “That sexy leather jacket certainly looks like it protects you.”

  She sounded like she was cheering up a bit, albeit slowly. Alec was relieved his comment hadn’t caused more of an issue. Dropping the grocery bag on the coffee table, he withdrew the knife from his boot and did his usual rounds. Kitchen clear. Weapons cabinet untouched. No one behind the curtains.

  “All I meant,” Alec explained as he confirmed that the closet and shower were empty, “is that you’re safer if Helena doesn’t draw too much attention to the search for your father. The less attention on you, the less Zachariah will come poking around.”

  “Mmmm, I guess.” Claire’s sigh echoed on the other end of the line. “Do you keep looking for Zachariah around every corner, like I do?”

  “You should’ve seen me at the supermarket tonight.” Alec couldn’t help shaking his head in embarrassment at the memory. “I’m sure I looked like a conspiracy nut, peering around the corner of every aisle before I went down it.”

  Claire’s laugh helped to ease the tension that gripped his heart. For the past two days, since he learned that Zachariah was in town, it had been harder than ever to relax. But he knew he had to try. His former Grigori lifestyle had been all about the work, the protection of others above himself. The goal now was to find pleasure in providing another with comfort and affection and receive the same in return.

  If only it were that easy.

  A sharp noise outside brought his train of thought to an abrupt halt. It sounded as if a window had just been shattered. Not his, but somewhere nearby.

  “Hold on a minute.” Alec put down his phone, flipped off the lights, and peeked out between his blackout curtains.