The treats and presents look returned to his face. He crossed his arms over his chest. Trying to seem nonchalant and utterly failing, he drawled, “So. She’s pretty then.”
Drily, Morgan said, “She looks exactly like her sister, Beckett. She’s more than pretty.”
His lips twisted. “So she’s scary pretty.”
“When I said she was lovely, I wasn’t talking about her face.”
Now he looked confused. “So she’s . . . nice?”
Morgan considered that. “If by ‘nice’ you mean she’s the type of girl who’s afraid to say what’s on her mind, or ask for what she wants, or wouldn’t tell you when you’re being an asshole because she might bruise your delicate ego, then, no. She’s not nice.” A smile lit her face. “She’s unnice. In fact, she’s decidedly wicked.”
Eyes sparkling, he looked at her a beat. “Sounds interesting.”
Her smile slowly faded. She exhaled a heavy sigh. “She’s more like her mother than I ever would have guessed, knowing her twin. Hope has that same rebellious streak as her mother, that same fearlessness. Yet she’s much more . . .” she searched for a word, inspecting her singed sleeve. “I don’t know. Fragile, maybe. Sensitive. Jenna was always so self-contained. So self-assured. Hope seems like the kind of girl who could slay a dragon to save a village if she had to, but would cry herself to sleep later, wondering if the beast had a family who would mourn.”
Beckett lowered his brows. “So she’s manic-depressive.”
“Oh, for God’s sake!” Morgan threw up her hands. “She’s disoriented, is what she is! As you would be, too, if you were shot and collared and woke up in a strange place with strange people. So do me a favor when you meet her: be kind.” She turned to leave.
Beckett’s voice climbed a notch. “Shot?”
Without turning, Morgan said over her shoulder, “Believe me, pet, that’s the least terrible thing that’s happened to that poor girl recently.”
She headed toward the Assembly room, leaving the normally sunny Beckett behind to brood.
Lu stared at Magnus with the kind of silence one reserves for funerals, and discussions with medical professionals about that large, inoperable tumor they’ve just discovered in your brain.
“My mother is alive,” she repeated disbelievingly. Magnus nodded, watching her warily, it seemed, for any unusual outbursts. Like a giant ball of fire, for instance. But she felt nothing but that pervasive, numbing shock. She wondered if that was her brain’s defense mechanism, deciding quickly that she preferred numbness to howling fits. At least it was less embarrassing.
A godmother. A sister. And now a mother—all alive.
“When do I meet her?”
Magnus hesitated. “She’s not here.”
“Where is she, then? Can I go to her?”
More awkward silence. Then: “The thing is . . . we don’t know exactly where your mother is.” He added firmly, “But she’s definitely alive.”
Lu blinked at him, more confused than ever. “How do you know she’s alive if you don’t know where she is?”
“Because of Honor’s Gift.”
When she just waited him out, he added, “Telepathy.”
“They . . . talk to one another? Like that?”
When he nodded, nausea made her stomach lurch, and she covered her mouth with her hand. She’d been blocking Honor for years, blocking everyone’s thoughts for years because she’d learned the only way to survive was to shut the world out, to act “normal.” The probability that she’d also inadvertently been blocking her own mother made her feel sick. She shook her head, trying to clear it enough to make sense of what he was telling her.
“So does that mean she doesn’t want Honor to know where she is, or . . .”
Anger flickered across his features, darkening his eyes, thinning his lips, and suddenly she knew exactly what it meant.
Horrified, Lu breathed, “She’s a prisoner!”
His expression was a tortured mix of grief, guilt, and fury. He looked away, as if he couldn’t meet her eyes, and she took his silence as affirmation.
All the stories she’d ever heard about how Abs were abused in government-run detention centers slammed into her head and became a whirling vortex of horror inside her skull. She whispered, “For how long?”
He seemed reluctant to answer, and she thought his teeth were in danger of shattering with all the grinding of his jaw.
“Magnus—how long?”
“Since the Flash.”
Oh dear God. For decades, her mother had been locked up, probably experimented on, probably tortured—
Lu squeezed shut her eyes, forcing herself to remain calm though all she wanted to do was succumb to the sobs trapped inside her chest. She saw the Grand Minister’s face just before she threw up her hands at the Hospice, remembered the words he’d said that she’d been so convinced were lies.
And you can meet your mother—you’d like that wouldn’t you? To meet your birth mother? She’s missed you so much.
Lu wanted to vomit. Her voice shaking, she said, “And my birth father?”
Magnus exhaled heavily, as if he’d been holding his breath. “We don’t know where he is either. Or if he’s . . .”
Alive. He didn’t say it, but the unspoken word hung there.
“Honor can’t talk to him, and your mother doesn’t know his whereabouts. They were separated . . . in the . . . battle . . .”
She began to hyperventilate. Trying hard to concentrate on the sound of water rushing over some far-off streambed, she thought if only she could stay focused on that sound, she might be able to banish the images in her head. The terrible, bloody images—
“Hope.” Magnus’s voice was soft, but beneath it she heard the edge. “Your mother is unharmed. She’s a prisoner, yes, but apparently a well-treated one. And I’m going to find her. If Leander is alive, I’ll find him, too. It’s what I do. Find our people, what’s left of them. And bring them back to live here. We’re trying to rebuild, one at a time. There’s not many of us left, but . . . it’s something. It’s a start. I give you my word: I. Will. Find. Them. No matter how long it takes me. No matter the cost. I’ll bring them back to you. Or I’ll die trying.”
She opened her eyes and looked at him. Every muscle in his face showed his strain and fatigue, his eyes, so dark and intense, showed her his sincerity. She didn’t know if what he was promising was possible, but she knew he believed what he was telling her. And that, at least, was something.
In that moment, she began to trust him. Whatever else he was, Magnus was a man who would rather die than not honor his word, and that made her breathe just the tiniest bit easier. Even if it was short-lived, he’d just given her some peace of mind.
And he found me, she thought, studying his face. So maybe it really is possible.
After a long while, she said, “I think I might need a drink. Or four.”
That seemed to soften the hard lines around his mouth, which is what she’d hoped for.
“You’re in luck. Jack makes potato vodka that will rot your guts but will definitely put you right in the head. At least until you go blind from drinking it.”
“Jack?”
“You’ll meet her at the Assembly meeting.”
“Jack’s a she?”
His lips twitched. Was he trying not to smile?
“That she is.” He stood, helping her up by the arm. Lu leaned on him heavily, more shaky than she’d realized, and he steadied her, his eyes worried though his posture was stiff. Because I’m too close, she realized. She sighed and stepped away, noting how the tension left his body when she did.
She sighed again, scrubbing her hands over her face. Time for a change of subject.
“Do you have any gloves here? Even if they’re thin, I just . . .” she stared at her hands. “I feel naked without them
. I’ve been wearing them my whole life. And after what happened back there with Honor I’m not sure it’s safe for me to walk around without them.” She thought of Morgan’s singed jacket. “Honor wasn’t hurt, but someone else could be.”
His brows knit. “Gloves can control your Gift?”
“I don’t really know how it works,” she admitted quietly. “Just that I don’t have accidents when I wear gloves.”
“Ah, yes. Your ‘accidents.’ That’s how I knew where to find you, incidentally.”
When Lu looked at him, startled, he said, “The fire at the credit market. That was my first clue where to look.”
Seeing the confusion on her face, he said, “Just like the IF does, we monitor GlobeNet for any kind of suspicious activity that might indicate one of us living undercover.” His face hardened. “And we try to get to them first.”
GlobeNet was the Imperial Federation’s international spynet, which surveilled all citizens and communications and distributed the “news.”
So technology had brought him to her. Not those wonderful, delicious dreams, which now that she thought about it, probably were only one-sided. She knew she had Gifts she didn’t understand; perhaps dreaming about people she’d meet was one of them. She’d never met her birth mother or father in those dreams, though. Or her sister. Or her godmother.
Only him. A very different him, unscarred and smiling, full of lightness and life.
So . . . just like the rest of her life, her dreams of Magnus had been a lie.
Lu tried to feel nothing but her newly found numbness, but all sorts of other emotions were leaking through. Fun, lovely things like foolishness. Misery. Despair.
New Vienna. City of her childhood, city of dreams. All her life had been nothing but dreams. And here, finally, was reality.
Boy, did it suck.
“Are you sure you want to go to this Assembly meeting, Hope? You look pale.”
The concern in his voice and eyes was genuine, but now Lu realized it for what it was: brotherly. “Yes,” she answered dully, turning away. “And I told you before, my name’s Lumina.”
I’m the monster who broke the world.
ELEVEN
Everyone had been milling around, talking quietly in small groups, until Magnus and Hope—Lumina, he corrected himself—were about ten meters from the entrance to the cave where the Assembly regularly gathered. He knew it wasn’t only their footsteps echoing on the stone that had cut off the conversation so abruptly.
It was Lu. Her presence was electric, as tangible and shocking as a hand slapping his face.
Walking beside him, she was pale and silent, her lips set to a grim line. He thought she looked slightly ill, and had to fight the urge to pick her up and carry her back to her bedchamber. That urge was simultaneously fighting the urge to get as far away from her as possible, because he also had another—and very powerful—urge to kiss her. More than kiss her, but he wasn’t allowing himself to dwell on that.
That would come later, when he was alone in bed.
He felt his control unraveling, each and every second he stood by her side. To be honest, he felt a little ill himself. He had no idea how he’d manage to live in the same vicinity with this woman, the siren of his dreams.
It probably would involve a lot more trips to search for lost kin.
They entered the cave. This one was high ceilinged, with a spectacular display of mustard-colored stalactites bristling from above. He’d chosen it as the Assembly place because it was quiet, dry, and away from the main population; with a species that could hear a flutter of wings and determine without sight if it was lark or crow or pigeon, one had to take precautions.
“Friends,” said Magnus into the expectant hush. “As you can see, fortune has favored us.”
He watched them watch her, saw their amazement, their gladness, their relief.
And beneath it all, their fear.
His chest tightened, seeing that. Though they had good reason to be afraid, he hoped Lumina didn’t notice. He turned to her. “My Lady, may I present the members of the Assembly to you?”
She looked at him askance, clearly baffled by the title and the formality. He had to press his lips together to keep from smiling. He led her forward, his fingertips just grazing her elbow, and the introductions began.
He wondered what they must look like to her as each was called, coming forward to curtsy or give a slight, respectful bow. There was Xander, Morgan’s husband, black clad and bulging with both muscles and weapons, swords strapped to his back, knives on his belt and boots. An assassin, he normally had that assassin’s flat killer gaze, his eyes glowing amber, but when he looked at Lumina there was only kindness there.
Next came Christian, still tall and handsome as he’d always been at close to sixty, with his wife, Ember, a shyly smiling, petite brunette. Lu stared at the woman, astonished to find a human in this place.
She wasn’t the only one.
Jacqueline, known as Jack, came next. Her red hair was as fiery as her personality, befitting the woman who’d founded the Dissenter movement. Once a famous reporter in the disbanded United States, she now headed the small but ferocious group of humans dedicated to overthrowing the IF’s rule and living peacefully with the Ikati, otherwise known as Aberrants.
Jack’s husband was the very nonhuman Hawk. Former Alpha of the Manaus colony that had been destroyed in Brazil—ground zero of the Flash—his mixed feelings for Lumina were clear as he stepped forward with a glower. Dark-haired and brawny, he was close in age to both Christian and his half brother Xander. Like the other two males, he still had all the potency and magnetism of his youth.
“My Lady,” he said curtly. He stepped back, lips thinned. Lu shot Magnus a worried glance, but he just nodded and continued with the introductions.
Demetrius and Eliana were next. Originally from the Roman colony that had been abandoned after the Flash due to security concerns, they were the most feral of the group. Both of them were clad in their usual black leather ensembles, complete with trench coats and matching guns strapped to their thighs and waists. At over six and a half feet, Demetrius stood the tallest of all the males, his shaved head, brow piercings, and neck tattoos lending him a sinister air, but only when he wasn’t looking at his wife. Lithe and porcelain-skinned, with choppy black hair dyed mostly blue, Eliana was adored by her warrior husband, and it showed in his every glance.
“Salutem, domina,” Eliana murmured. Lumina started, and Magnus caught her eye.
“I didn’t know I spoke Latin, too,” she said under her breath.
Too?
A fine sheen of frost began to form on the walls, blossoming with a crackling whisper as the temperature in the cave simultaneously dropped. Magnus turned just in time to see Honor glide silently into the room.
“You weren’t going to start without me, were you?”
Though he knew she was teasing—because Honor never cared to attend an Assembly meeting—not a hint of a smile touched her lips or eyes. Which, Magnus reasoned, was a good sign. If Honor smiled it would be such a momentous occasion the Earth’s axis might shift, disrupting gravity and launching them all into outer space.
A frozen heart was the only thing the two of them had in common.
“Thank you for coming,” he said, inclining his head. Surprisingly, he wasn’t being ironic; he actually was thankful she’d come. He hoped Honor and her sister might eventually grow close. Lord knew Honor could use some thawing, and Lumina . . .
He glanced back at her, concerned. She was trying valiantly to cover it, but he sensed how much it cost her to stand here, acting normal. Maybe if she and Honor spent some time together, got to know one another—
“Oh, I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” Honor said, staring hard at Lumina. While everyone else tensed, the twins sized each other up in hostile silence.
Okay
, maybe “grow close” was overreaching. Maybe “not murder each other” was a better goal.
Magnus gestured to the large round table surrounded by chairs on the opposite side of the cave. “Let’s sit.”
Honor said, “Dear sister and I have a few things to work out first.” She looked around, her frosty gaze sliding over the gathering. “Everybody might want to clear out for a bit, until we come to an understanding.”
Without even looking at Lumina, he felt her bristle. The air temperature spiked; the candles in iron braziers along the walls flared up with a hiss.
Shit. Can anyone say “disaster of epic proportion”? He stepped between the two women, eliciting a low growl of displeasure from Honor.
“Move, Seeker,” she said, deadly soft. “Or I’ll make you move.”
“I’m the Alpha of this colony, Honor.” He controlled his tone, though all he wanted to do was wring her neck. Not that he’d survive the attempt. Not that he cared. “I’m responsible for the safety of everyone here. And you know I can’t guarantee anyone’s safety if you get upset.”
Her eyes were the permafrost of ancient tundra, where ice never thawed and life refused to grow. By her sides, her hands flexed open, fingers twitching as if they longed to wrap around his neck. “Yes, you’re the Alpha. Congratulations on being the proud owner of a dick.”
Her voice dripped acid contempt. The answering growl that rumbled through his chest was pure reflex; he really despised it when Honor went all man-hater on him.
With a sneer, she added, “And I’m not upset. Not yet. But if you don’t get out of the way in the next five seconds, I will be. And we all know what happens then.”
They stared at one another, seething, until a soft voice broke their stalemate.
“You know what I hate more than anything in the world?” Lumina stepped out from behind him. She faced Honor with her shoulders back, grim determination on her face. Magnus felt a rush of admiration for her, which was quickly swallowed by panic. She had no idea what she was doing—and Honor had had a lifetime to practice her Gifts.
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