The Caelian Cycle Boxed Set

by Donnielle Tyner

  “Miss Moreau, whether your membership with the family is official or not, the Moreaus are your heritage. Family leaders are always elected and since its founding, your forbears have led this family. It is your family name that we all fall under.” She walked further into the room, noting with pursed lips the bags under my eyes and the fresh scratches on my arms. “You should be proud to know where you come from. It is a luxury many Caelians do not have.”

  “That is true, and under different circumstances I would definitely feel the pride you think I should express, but I refuse to take pride in a family that forces me away from the only true family I have ever known.”

  Francis released an exasperated sigh, causing her Talent to flare. My own responded with a violent swell, emptying my mind of thought and filling my body with a vibrating energy that verged on painful. “The separation from your friends is only meant to be temporary. There are many things you do not know, and I assure you your aunt has only your best interests at heart.”

  I forced my Talent back down, leaving a numbness in its wake and leaving me breathless. “I’m sure. That is why I haven’t seen her in two weeks.”

  “There is more going on in the world besides your little hissy-fit.” Her tone indicated that the conversation was over. I crossed my arms and sulked. Deep down, I knew I was acting like a moody child, but at the moment I didn’t care. I was tired of my life spinning out of control and I wanted … no, needed my friends.

  “You have a busy schedule today. I have given you an hour to make yourself presentable before you will meet with your aunt in the atrium for breakfast…”

  “Really?” My voice rose to a higher pitch, tinged with a fraction of the excitement I felt at finally being able to sit down with the only remaining member of my family.

  Francis relaxed her pursed lips and continued, “Yes. She has spoken with McCredie and with your beau, Kian, about your sleep issues.” She shifted uncomfortably with the topic of my nightmares and continued to speak, but I didn’t hear her. Kian’s name echoed in my mind and stirred up a heap of mixed emotions.

  Being separated from him for two weeks had forced me to really think about the information that came out during the trial. One thing should have been obvious from the beginning, but I had been too busy trying to keep my friends and myself alive. I loved him, but he had been keeping secrets from me, and it made me question our relationship.

  Of course, I had known for a while that a big secret from his past haunted him. I had been willing to wait until he was ready to share. However, since the mediation and my grandfather’s taunting, I had expected Kian to open up during the single conversation we had had since our separation. There had been nothing.

  It aggravated me, but not enough to push me to re-think our relationship.

  Then there was the other secret I hadn’t known he’d been keeping. The one I probably would have never figured out if I hadn’t been separated from him, and I wondered if he would have ever told me.

  Kian had known who my mother was all along.

  He had to have known since the moment he met me, or at the very least, he had to have had an idea of who she was. In our second conversation he exposed my father’s identity. During our chat in that dingy mall hallway, he had also told me law enforcement officers and investigators across the country studied my case. In the mediation, lawyers pored over the file and read every detail to the crowd. My mother’s name was listed in that report.

  Then there was the fact that he knew Mrs. LaMotte’s real name and history before she had been pressured to tell me. It wouldn’t have been hard to place her real name with my mother’s. They had been best friends since childhood.

  Anger boiled under my skin, activating my Talent and sending it buzzing throughout my body. I didn’t understand why he hadn’t told me from the beginning. I had spent years wondering who she was and had even sent Luca on a mission to find her name. He could have saved us both time and heartache. My thoughts wandered back to the moment I asked Luca to search for my mom. Kian’s reaction was unusual given the circumstances, but I had thought his shocked expression was because I trusted Luca, someone I had just met, with something so important. Now, I wondered if he had worried I would figure out his deception.

  He had promised he wouldn’t keep secrets that didn’t involve his job, and no matter what angle I looked at this, I couldn’t see how he needed to keep my mother’s identity to keep to himself.

  “Miss Moreau, I took the liberty of selecting an outfit for you today. You don’t have to wear it, but I know your aunt would like to see you dress in something other than sweatpants and t-shirts.”

  “Yeah okay,” I responded mechanically, still seething over Kian. Through the swirl of mixed emotions, I still missed him. When I saw him again, would I throw myself in his arms and kiss him until we both needed to come up for air or slap him before kneeing him in the balls? Before I had the chance to discover how I would react, I really needed to work through all those pesky violent thoughts toward him.

  “Please don’t dawdle. I know you’ve had freedom with your time for the past two weeks, but today starts your new schedule.” She paused for a moment, staring at me as if she could look beyond my rough exterior. “I was asked not to say anything, but I think you will need the time this morning to prepare.”

  “Prepare for what?” I asked, my stomach churning with nervous fear.

  Her eyebrows formed a deep V as she poked at her lip with an index finger, smearing just a bit of her burgundy lipstick. Every second she spent weighing her answer, I grew more and more agitated. “Francis?”

  “Yes. The only thing I can tell you is that guests from the Human Caelian Alliance will join you and Mrs. Moreau for breakfast.”

  “You can’t tell me who?”

  She shook her head in reply.

  “I suppose I can’t keep our guests waiting,” I replied as I stumbled past Francis to my private bathroom. Faces flickered across my mind as I wondered who would be waiting for me that morning. My thoughts lingered on Kian’s face. Longing and irritation warred in my heart.

  For the first time, I was unsure if I wanted to see the man I loved.

  Chapter 2

  I stared at the clothes Francis had laid out for me and cringed, all the while wondering if Francis had stolen a set of clothes out of my aunt’s closet in attempts to make me a Marianne clone.

  Fashion might not interest me much, but after listening to Rebecca wax poetic about trends, colors, cuts, and styles of various clothing, my untrained eye knew the pant suit laid before me was more appropriate for an older woman. Although the cut was stylish, the silk shirt with a bold floral print in bright colors of gold and coral aged the navy suit. My eyes widened when I found matching coral heels resting next to the clothes. I had never worn any heel higher than the sturdy inch on my combat boots. They’re trying to kill me.

  Shaking my head in resignation and swallowing the lump of nervousness that had settled in my throat, I slid out of my warm sweats and donned the outfit. It fit perfectly. Maybe it was intended for me after all. With that thought, I threw my slightly greasy hair into a tight bun Mrs. LaMotte would be proud of and took a few deep breaths. They did nothing to calm the churning anxiety threatening to force my rapidly beating heart out of my chest. I exited my room as quietly as possible for a girl whose blindingly new secondary Talent made the simplest of movements almost impossible and wobbled down the hall in my brightly colored four-inch heels toward the stairs.

  I stood at the top of the grand staircase, with its burgundy and navy paisley patterned carpet and the inch-long golden fringe along the edges, pondering the implications of walking down the stairs in my new death-shoes. I faced two choices. Wear them and die or take them off and risk a lecture from Francis on how ladies should never tromp around barefoot. Neither sounded appealing, but both brought their own heap of worry to my already frazzled mind.

  Without sparing another thought, I ripped the heels from my feet with shak
ing hands and took the first step. The plush carpet caressed my foot, and with a deep breath, I began to creep down the stairs as quickly and discreetly as I could. With a focus I hadn’t mustered since my last Talent training, I calculated each step in order to keep the ancient staircase from announcing my presence too soon. On the second-to-last step, a CREEEEAKK echoed throughout the foyer. The sound, combined with the fact that I was already in high-anxiety mode, startled me into throwing one shoe into the air and releasing a high-pitched squeak, which echoed with the bang of the thrown heel slamming into the marble floor.

  The sound of rushed footsteps bounced down the hall leading to the atrium. I didn’t have time to pull myself together before Francis, Luca, and McCredie burst into the grand foyer, followed by my great aunt. She walked in with her hands clasped behind her back as casually as if a screaming girl in the corridor was a daily occurrence. Maybe it was. As a group, they stopped and scanned the foyer before their eyes landed on me, each individual wearing a different expression, varying from Luca’s joy to Francis’s annoyance.

  “Sadie!” Luca yelled as he ran the rest of the way to me, seizing me with his lanky arms and lifting me into a bone-crushing hug before settling me back down on the stairs. One of his arms snaked around my shoulders and tucked me into his side. Some of the anxiety melted at his touch. “It’s so good to see you.”

  “Right back at ya.” My voice came out as a sigh as I settled my head against his shoulder and wrapped my arm around his waist. I had forgotten how amazing it felt to be hugged by a friend.

  “So … are you going to explain the out-of-character girlish squeals and crashing noise we heard?” He untucked me from his arm with care and held me out at arm’s length, his astute gaze traveling over my body. His eyes narrowed in concern before his lips curled into a grin. “And please, please let me take a picture of what you’re wearing. Rebecca would die from embarrassment … for you.”

  “Shut up, Luca.” I felt my face getting hot. “I didn’t have the option of choosing my own clothes this morning.”

  Again his eyes narrowed, but this time a fire burned in their depths. He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted.

  “Yes, Sadie, please tell us why you are being disruptive this morning?” Francis hissed as she picked up the forgotten heel and handed it to me. “And how many times have I told you that ladies don’t leave their dressing rooms without proper footwear?”

  “Well … to answer both questions, I didn’t want to risk walking down the stairs in these death-shoes you made me wear and I was trying to be quiet, but I startled myself and then accidently threw a shoe…” my voice drifted off as both Luca and McCredie burst into laughter. Francis’s scowl lessened somewhat and my aunt’s lips curled into an affectionate grin.

  “We’ve missed you in the underground, Sadie,” McCredie barked between breaths. “Things have been tame since you left.”

  “Shall we retire to the atrium for breakfast?” My aunt’s deeply southern voice rang out above the muffled chuckles.

  “Yes. We had a long flight and I’m starving,” McCredie answered with his arm extended toward my aunt. She wrapped her hand delicately around his elbow and allowed him to lead her back down the hall. Although Francis would describe her manners as “becoming of a good southern lady,” her grin was forced and no smile warmed her eyes.

  “Put those shoes back on before you take another step,” Francis hissed before she followed the others with a proud strut.

  With a groan, I slid my feet into the pinching shoes and took a careful step.

  “Would you like me to escort you to breakfast, Miss Moreau?” Luca exaggerated a southern accent and bowed deeply with a flourish in mock respect.

  I released a frustrated moan. “Never call me that again,” I half-whined, half-demanded. “It’s bad enough everyone else here does.”

  Luca straightened, his eyebrow crooked in restrained pleasure at my obvious discomfort. He extended his elbow like McCredie and I grabbed it, thankful he wouldn’t have the chance to see my jelly-legs in those dammed shoes. Not yet, anyway.

  We walked slowly toward the atrium. As my burning embarrassment faded, question after question zipped across my mind. My mouth opened a few times to ask one, but nothing came out.

  “You want to know why I’m here?”

  “No. Well, yes, but I have so many questions.”

  “I’m sure you do. Maybe a few will be answered at breakfast and the rest you can ask me afterwards.”

  “You’re staying?” Excitement flooded my voice, raising the pitch an octave.

  “Yeah.” He chuckled before growing serious. “Kian wanted to come, but your aunt thought it would be best if you didn’t have any distractions.” Luca’s eyebrows waggled suggestively.

  My heart leapt as the swirl of emotions attached to anything involving Kian rose. My eyes flittered around the hall as I tried to suppress the stomach-rolling uneasiness of all my feelings regarding my boyfriend.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” I answered. Luca cocked his head to the side, his mint green hair flopping over one eye as he took a deep breath, his nostrils flaring.

  “Interesting.”

  Shit. How in the last two weeks had I forgotten that Luca smelled emotions? There was no hiding how I felt about Kian or anything around him. Double shit. I bet that was why McCredie chose him to be my companion instead of any of the others.

  “Don’t worry about anything. We both can talk after breakfast,” Luca whispered in my ear as we stepped into the atrium.

  Chapter 3

  Breaking News

  Yesterday, leaked correspondence between Director George Smith of the FBI and members of the Senate exposed that the government had certain knowledge of the Human Purist Coalition’s complicity in the murder and unlawful capture of Caelians across America. No action has yet been taken against the violent group.

  Gordon Detective Agency came forward as the source of the leak this morning. Kian Lane of GDA told Global News he obtained incriminating documents and video in the employ of the Human Caelian Alliance and turned this evidence in at their request. Upon realizing that law enforcement had yet to investigate the organization, he forwarded the evidence to Global News.

  Lane, although hired by the HCA, had personal motives as well. Laura Lane, his mother and elected head of the Lane family, was allegedly tortured and starved to death at the hands of Dean Kerrington and the HPC.

  FBI director Smith has issued a formal apology and promised that the department now has the HPC under an official criminal investigation. This morning 33 men and women affiliated with the HPC were detained by local police.

  HPC front man Dean Kerrington has not been located. If you or anyone you know has information about his whereabouts, contact your local police station.

  Chapter 4

  Light assaulted my eyes, temporarily blinding me as I stepped into the room. When my sight returned, I stopped abruptly, stumbling forward a bit as Luca kept going with my arm tucked into his. My grip tightened on Luca’s elbow as my eyes widened.

  When Francis told me breakfast would be in the atrium, I thought it was just a fancy southern word for the room to eat in. I was not expecting walls made of smooth steel beams and large panels of glass attached to the antebellum house. Flowers, small trees, and other greenery lined the walls and the path toward the center of the room. I inhaled deeply, letting the refreshing aroma of the room fill my lungs. The air smelled green. It was amazing.

  Luca cleared his throat, pulling my attention away from the bluish gray stones settled into the concrete of the floor and up to his eyes. He rolled his eyes toward the center of the room. In a clearing the size of an SUV, an ornately carved oak antique table with six matching, high-backed chairs nestled in the greenery. Sitting at each end were McCredie and my aunt, Marianne Moreau, both watching me take in the room, their lips lifted in tender smiles.

  Embarrassed by my reaction, I bowed my head and resumed walking toward the table. A ma
n I vaguely recognized walked up and pulled out my chair.

  “Miss Moreau,” he acknowledged me with a tip of his head. I sat down and mumbled a thanks as Luca was seated across from me.

  “Sadie, do you like the atrium?” My aunt asked as Francis led in two more staff members, arms loaded with trays of food.

  “It’s beautiful,” I gushed. My aggravations and questions from earlier were forgotten - replaced with sunlight, fresh air, and a steaming plate of flapjacks, eggs, and sausage.

  Marianne smiled at the man who plated her food before she returned her gaze to me. “When I was voted in as head seat to the Moreau family, I petitioned for the addition to be built. You see, my Talent requires me to be outdoors as much as possible, and I fell ill staying in the office all day. With this addition, I am able to split my time so I can be outside for the majority of my work.”

  “You get sick if you stay inside?” The question exploded out of me before I could give a second thought to how rude it was to pry into the details of another’s Talent. Francis clucked from her station next to the guards blocking the entrance to the atrium. My face burned. “Oh! I’m sorry. Marianne … Aunt … Mrs. Moreau?”

  “You may call me any of those. Whichever makes you comfortable, although I’d like for you to call me Aunt Marianne if you want.”

  I didn’t know what I felt comfortable calling her, but it was nice to know that I wasn’t held to some high standard. Marianne took a long sip of her coffee as the clink of flatware scraping the surface of what I’m sure was Moreau family china filled the silence.

  My stomach growled, but my mind couldn’t let go of what Marianne said about her Talent. I wanted to ask more questions, but knew it was considered uncouth.

  “It’s killing you not knowing, is it?” McCredie chuckled from the other end of the table. “Marianne, I think your niece wants to know about your Talent, but is too shy to ask.”