Embolden

by Syrie James

  She nodded, eyes wide. “I can’t believe we just survived that. How you doing, Bri?”

  “Okay,” Brian mumbled from the middle bench, apparently on painkillers. The remains of his T-shirt sleeve had been cut away, replaced by a heavy bandage around his right shoulder. “Your dad’s like a cross between Professor Xavier and a SWAT paramedic.” He held up a brass bullet. “Look! A souvenir.”

  “Luckily, the bullet went straight through,” Lynn explained.

  “He’ll need recovery time,” Tom reassured her, “but not a hospital visit.”

  “Thank God.” Claire looked relieved. “What are we going to tell his parents?”

  “Tell ’em I went off on my own and got mugged,” Brian interjected groggily. “That’ll totally fly. And there’s no way they can check on it.”

  The van barreled up by the front entrance of the hotel, where Neil and Erica were waiting, visibly anxious. They both leapt in, then froze, taking in the blood on the seat, Brian’s bandaged shoulder, and the remnants of the first-aid triage littering the floor.

  “What in the holy hell?” Neil said.

  “Long story.” Claire gestured to Tom in the front seat. “Guys, I’d like you to officially meet Tom. My dad.”

  Before any greetings could be exchanged, Helena called out, “Sit down and buckle up, kids. We have a plane to catch.” Then she stepped on the gas.

  epilogue

  “Tea?” Helena held up her favorite bone-china pot. “It’s my personal blend, Earl Grey and hazelnut.”

  “I’ll stick with cocoa for now.” Claire smiled, blowing steam from her mug.

  She and her grandmother were sitting on the rooftop of their condo in Los Angeles, beneath a sunny afternoon sky. A couple of folding tables had been set up for an early dinner, and she’d hung the same twinkle lights she’d put up on Valentine’s Day. This time, hopefully, with happier results.

  “You’re healing nicely, my dear,” Helena commented.

  Claire grazed her fingertips over her wrist and her lower lip, grateful that the bruises she’d sustained during their fight in Taipei were all but back to normal. “Poor Brian. It’ll be weeks before he recovers.”

  “Thank goodness he didn’t suffer permanent damage. And that Alec recovered so quickly.”

  Claire grimaced. “I may be half-Grigori, but I could never dig a bullet out of my own arm.”

  “I pray you’ll never have to,” Helena replied.

  Claire had treasured every day of the past two weeks since they’d rescued her father, thrilled to get to know him at last. Her parents had gotten over their initial awkwardness and looked tremendously happy to be back together.

  One lingering worry, however, was still eating away at Claire: did those few moments Alec and her father spent in the Nexus expose them to the Grigori? No one had voiced the worry aloud, but Claire knew that if they had been exposed, someone could be sent to arrest them at any moment.

  A fluttering sound from overhead caught her attention. Claire looked up but didn’t see anything. Until a male silhouette suddenly materialized in the air about six feet away, making her jump in surprise.

  “Zachariah.” Claire gripped her mug anxiously.

  Why is he here?

  The Watcher landed with quiet grace, adjusting his long tan coat as he strode toward them. “Good evening.”

  Helena shifted in her lounge chair uneasily. “What an unexpected pleasure, Zachariah.”

  Claire’s pulse began an erratic dance, her eyes darting to the rooftop’s stairwell door. Any second now, her mom and dad and Alec would be coming up the stairs. What if the “spell” she’d put on Zachariah no longer worked? If she didn’t do something fast, Zachariah might recognize Alec and would definitely recognize Tom. But there was no way of warning them without drawing attention to herself.

  “Apologies for not calling ahead,” Zachariah stated formally with a half bow to her grandmother. “We’ve all been scrambling over some recent activity.”

  “Really? What activity?” Claire’s heart continued to thud as she whipped mental fishing lines toward Zachariah’s mind: The man who resembles Tom is not Tom. You won’t recognize Alec. It’s not Alec.

  “I should preface this by saying that I am … I am … fully aware that my news might not be welcome.” Zachariah’s eyes grew a bit dazed as he spoke. “Even so, I felt that … you had the right to be looped in. And I—” He broke off.

  “Looped in about what, Zachariah?” Helena gave Claire a knowing glance.

  Zachariah cleared his throat, blinking rapidly as he turned to Helena. “It is … regarding your son.”

  “My son?” Helena repeated, sitting forward with deep interest.

  Claire continued her silent mantra, her gut tensing with worry. “You’ve heard something about my father?”

  “Yes, he—” Zachariah began.

  The stairwell door opened. Lynn strode out first, carrying a bowl of salad. “Let the feast begin!” she cried with a smile. Directly behind her followed Tom and Alec, with platters of broiled salmon and a tray of side dishes.

  Claire leapt to her feet. She hoped Zachariah couldn’t sense her alarm.

  Her father, however, didn’t seem the least bit distressed. Setting his platter on the table, he strode directly up to the Watcher. Although his smile was cordial, Tom’s eyes were as steely as the last time Claire had seen him use his powers. “Hi. I’m Gregory,” he said, extending his hand.

  Gregory. Claire remembered that Alec had invented a mythical “Uncle Gregory” during his first days at Emerson, a tribute to his Grigori origins. Still worried, she resumed her silent, mental onslaught toward Zachariah’s mind.

  Zachariah blinked a few more times, then calmly shook Tom’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Gregory.”

  Alec stepped forward. “Nice to see you again, Zach.”

  “Yes, Mr. MacKenzie, I remember. You’re Claire’s friend from school. You were brilliant in the play.”

  “So I heard.” Tom nodded. “I was sorry to have missed my nephew’s theatrical debut.”

  Claire swallowed her relief. She wasn’t sure if it was her powers or her father’s that had done the trick—or maybe it was a combination of the two—but it had worked. Zachariah had no idea that he was standing right in front of the two Grigoris his entire organization was desperate to find.

  Still, she couldn’t relax. What was the news Zachariah had come to share?

  Zachariah glanced at Helena. “Forgive me. I didn’t realize you were entertaining. I can come back later.”

  “Don’t leave us in suspense,” Helena cut in quickly. “You said something about my son?”

  “Yes, well. You understand, given your company, I cannot go into the particulars.”

  “Sure you can. Just go on as if we’re not here.” Tom’s eyes were penetrating as he stared at the Watcher.

  Zachariah paused, his own eyes glazing over briefly. Blinking rapidly, he turned back to Helena. “All right then. I came to tell you that, after all these years, it appears your son is still alive. He finally showed up on our radar again in Taipei.”

  Claire’s spirits sank. Their worst fears had come true. That moment in the Nexus had exposed them.

  “Have you spoken to him?” Helena snapped, eyebrows raised.

  “No, but he seems to have been in the company of another agent who’s also AWOL. It appears as though the two have gone rogue.”

  “Gone rogue?” Lynn repeated. “What have they done?” The tremor in her voice sounded genuine—and no wonder. Having Zachariah say these things right in front of his actual targets was stressing Claire out. Even with all the mind control in place, she felt like she was sitting on nails.

  “It appears that they roughed up some Fallen in a hotel and escaped.”

  “You keep saying appears,” Claire interjecte
d. “Does that mean you don’t have proof?”

  “At this time, all we have to go on are second- and thirdhand reports. All the relevant security cameras had been disabled. But we have a very strong hunch that it was him.”

  Tom and Alec shifted but said nothing.

  “If my son has gone rogue, that is most unfortunate.” Helena shook her head.

  Zachariah turned to Lynn now. “I understand, madam, that you were married to a man you knew as Tom Brennan?”

  “Yes. We’re still married.”

  “I beg to differ. A union between a human and Grigori is forbidden, and therefore was never legal. Have you heard from him over the past sixteen years?”

  “No,” Lynn lied.

  “Then I think it’s safe to presume,” Zachariah said dispassionately, “that he no longer considers himself tied to you. If he ever did. Otherwise, he would have contacted you long ago.”

  “I see,” Lynn replied, her face a mask of repressed emotion. “I’m sure you’re right.”

  “The missing Watchers are being actively sought by the Elders,” Zachariah continued, now addressing the group as a whole, “and are considered outlaws. I want to make it clear that should either of them attempt to contact you, it is your responsibility to contact us immediately.”

  Helena nodded, unsmiling. “Of course.” She thanked Zachariah for sharing the news.

  After exchanging matter-of-fact good-byes, the Watcher said, “I can see myself out the, ah, conventional way.” Zachariah made for the stairwell door and closed it behind him.

  When the sound of his footsteps finally died away, Claire dropped into a chair and breathed a heavy sigh. “Holy. Crap.”

  “You said it.” Lynn looked from Claire to her husband. “Which one of you made that happen?”

  “Both of us,” Tom responded. “Claire got it started, and I finished the job with a few … tweaks, to make sure he won’t ever be able to identify me or Alec in future.”

  “What do you mean by tweaks?” Claire asked.

  “I’ll teach you someday.” Tom smiled. “In the meantime, you’ve made impressive progress, Claire, considering how new you are at this.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  Claire was trying not to think about the fact that she’d used her power a couple of times with not-so-impressive results, and once on her own grandmother, when the stairwell door banged open again and Brian, Erica, and Neil barreled through it.

  “Sorry we’re late!” Erica announced cheerfully, as she added a bowl of fresh salsa to the food table. “Prima Donna here had some issues with his sling.”

  “I took a bullet for the team, Erica. Literally.” Brian handed a bag of chips to Alec’s waiting hands. “I think that gives me a pass.”

  Everyone laughed as they greeted the new arrivals, exchanging hugs. “Hey, Brian, it just occurred to me,” Neil commented, setting out the tray of brownies he’d brought, “didn’t you end up in a sling last fall, too?”

  “It seems to be my fate,” Brian noted with a grin. “At least this time, it’s my other arm.”

  “Which has to be a pain, since you’re right-handed,” Claire pointed out. “How do you type?”

  “Yeah,” Erica worried, “or play Ping-Pong?”

  Brian puffed out his chest confidently. “Fear not. I’m a one-handed master on a keyboard, and I can play Ping-Pong southpaw. I challenge you to a game anytime.”

  “Done!” Erica answered. “Tomorrow? After school?”

  “You’re on.”

  Claire smiled. Though their relationship might never be the same, Claire was glad to see that their little adventure had helped reignite Erica and Brian’s friendship.

  “So. Did we miss anything?” Neil asked.

  Claire glanced at Alec, wondering where to begin. But he just shrugged casually. “We’ll tell you after dinner.”

  “Good. I’m starving,” announced Erica, “and that salmon looks amazing.”

  As they unwrapped the food, and everyone lined up to help themselves to the feast, Claire’s phone vibrated. She moved to the back of the line and glanced at it covertly.

  Claire’s heart went into overdrive and her hands grew clammy. It was a text.

  From Celeste.

  Hey girlfriend, heard you got home safe.

  Boss man hopes you’re healing nicely …

  The message was creepy and disturbing. Further proof that the Fallen really did know everything she was up to. The hopes you’re healing nicely … part felt particularly ominous. As if Celeste were about to add: because we’ve got work to do.

  Claire quickly deleted the message and put away her phone, grateful that everyone was too busy serving themselves and finding seats at the tables to notice how distracted she was.

  Everyone, that is, except Alec.

  “You okay?” he asked quietly, concern marring his handsome features as he came up to her.

  “Fine.” Claire nodded. But he knew her so well. Did he suspect something?

  “You don’t look fine. You aren’t still worried about what Zachariah said, are you?”

  Claire swallowed hard and forced herself to nod again. “Yeah. How can I not be? The Grigori are looking for you now. For both of you.”

  Winding his arms around her waist, Alec drew her close and gently leaned his forehead against hers. “Claire,” he said softly, “they never stopped looking for us. And after all this time, they still haven’t found us. We’ll be all right.”

  Alec pressed his lips against hers, a warm and affectionate kiss that she returned with all the love in her soul.

  “You promise?” Claire whispered when the kiss ended.

  “I promise.”

  “Break it up, lovebirds,” Brian called out. “People are trying to eat here.”

  Laughter trickled across the rooftop as Alec kissed Claire again. Exchanging a smile, they crossed to the food table to heap their own plates.

  Everyone was happily chatting as they sat down at the table. Claire tried hard to get in the spirit of the festivities. She knew she had so much to be grateful for. Her dad was finally free of the Fallen’s control and off the horrible drugs they’d kept him on. And Zachariah would never recognize him or Alec. But …

  Worry kept gnawing at her.

  “Claire Bear?”

  Erica’s voice snapped Claire out of her reverie. “Hmm?”

  Her friend raised a mug of hot apple cider. “I think our little gathering needs a speech from the mission commander.”

  “That was my job,” Brian protested, eliciting chuckles.

  “It all started with Claire,” Erica insisted. “So. We’re waiting!”

  Claire cleared her throat awkwardly and stood. “Okay. Um,” she began. “I think you all know what’s in my heart. Thank you so much everyone, for all that you did.”

  Even though it didn’t end as well as I’d hoped for, Claire left out. She’d presumed that her father’s rescue might have unforeseen consequences, and now she understood that it had. Yes, they’d thrown Zachariah off the scent. But he was only one person. Sure, her father was free. But now he was back on the Grigori radar, a wanted felon. Equally frightening, the rescue operation had called attention to Alec.

  Despite Alec’s reassurances, Claire knew that they weren’t safe.

  Claire looked to Alec first, then at Erica, Brian, and Neil, managing a tight smile. “The past few months have been rough. I’m sorry that all my problems spilled over onto you guys. You all came through for me, above and beyond what I could have ever wished for from friends.”

  She put an arm around her father, gazing up at him with a smile filled with affection. “I have my dad back, and I couldn’t have done it without any of you. Without all of you.”

  “And I’m very lucky to be here,” Tom added, wrapping her in a hug. “Again, thank yo
u all.”

  Applause followed. Mugs were raised and clinked. And everyone dug further into their food.

  Claire picked at her own meal, barely tasting it. She was glad Alec seemed too absorbed in conversation with her father to notice her inner turmoil.

  Overshadowing everything was the dilemma of her own creation. The secret she was still hiding from everybody.

  The words of Celeste’s text spun in her mind.

  Boss man hopes you’re healing nicely.

  Boss man. Ugh. She had a boss now. Not a parent or a teacher, but someone who could control her because she owed him a debt. If she didn’t let him collect, he would tell her whole family the ugly truth about why Alec was still alive and how she’d learned where to rescue Tom.

  Worse, though, Malcolm could tell the rest of the Fallen, and/or the Grigori, where their freed hostage was hiding. And the names of everyone who’d rescued him.

  Claire had zero leverage over that man. But if she hadn’t gone to him, Alec’s and her father’s fates were unthinkable.

  Claire looked around at her friends and family. Three angels, three teenagers, and her mom. All this joy. All the trust they had in her. It had been tested recently, but it had held.

  But only because they didn’t (and couldn’t ever) know the truth.

  That she was beholden to the Fallen.

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  ABOUT THE AUTHORS

  SYRIE JAMES is the bestselling author of twelve critically acclaimed novels translated into eighteen languages. Syrie loves paranormal romance and all things 19th century. Her books have been Library Journal Editor’s Picks and won numerous awards including the Audie for Romance, Women’s National Book Association Great Group Read, B&N Romantic Read of the Week, Best Snowbound Romance (Bookbub), Best of the Year (Suspense Magazine and Romance Reviews), and Best First Novel (Library Journal). Syrie thoroughly enjoyed working with her son Ryan on Forbidden and Embolden, her only forays into novel co-writing. Syrie is a member of the Writers Guild of America and has addressed audiences as a keynote speaker across America and England. A theater enthusiast, she has also written, directed, and performed in numerous stage productions.