Incendiary (The Premonition Series (Volume 4))

by Amy A. Bartol

“The ability to perceive what your angelic opponent is thinking—how he thinks—behaves,” he explains.

  “All these things I can learn from Reed,” I reply.

  “You can learn how a Power will react and perceive from Reed, but what of the Seraphim and especially the fallen Seraphim? He can’t teach you that,” Tau replies.

  “You would be surprised at what he knows. He could teach you a lot about half-humans,” I reply.

  “I’m counting on it, since I seem to be at a disadvantage” he replies. “I’d value his council.”

  “I’m willing to learn all of the things you’ve outlined while we’re here, but I want something in return,” I say, and watch his head tilt just a little to the side, the way Reed’s does when I’ve captured his full attention.

  “What are your terms?” he asks.

  “I want to know about her—my mother,” I say, wanting to hold my breath, but forcing myself to breathe evenly.

  “What do you want to know?” he asks.

  “Everything,” I reply.

  “I would like to tell you about her,” he agrees softly.

  “Good,” I reply with a nod. “We can start tomorrow.” I turn and begin walking across the floor to the doors.

  “Evie, you said, ‘while we’re here.’ What did you mean by that?” Tau asks behind me.

  I stop, closing my eyes and mouthing, “fffffffaaaa.” I open my eyes and slowly turn back to face my father. “I meant that when we get Brennus, the terms of our agreement will be fulfilled,” I say.

  “That is what I thought you meant,” he replies, looking unaffected. “May I add a small caveat here?” he asks me rhetorically. “The conditions that you are attempting to stipulate are not within your realm of control. You will be here until I determine otherwise, at which time we, you and I, will be elsewhere. Together. Failure to comply with that stipulation will lead to severe penalties. Is that clear?” he asks me.

  “Mmm,” I mutter, turning once again toward the doors.

  In a fraction of a second, he is standing in front of me with his fingers lightly lifting my chin so that our eyes meet, “I asked if that was clear,” he says.

  “It’s crystal,” I reply with a sinking feeling.

  “Good,” he smiles. “Then I will walk back with you to find your friends.”

  CHAPTER 20

  Don’t Look Back

  Tau and I leave dinner behind in the Black Café as we walk together toward the library. Neither one of us speaks on our way, since dinner has apparently not lived up to either one of our expectations. When we arrive at our destination, I know instantly that Reed is not here because there are no butterflies in my stomach. Disappointed, I slump into a wing-backed chair and listen with half an ear as Tau speaks to one of the Powers.

  “Your friends have left word for you to join them in the South Tower. I believe it was the Harem when you were here last,” Tau says to me.

  “I know where it is,” I say with relief, while getting up from the chair. “I’ll find them.”

  “No,” Tau says with authority. “You’ll stay with me until I can deliver you to them.”

  “I’m not defenseless,” I mutter.

  “You cannot walk around here alone,” Tau states calmly.

  “Fine,” I say with as much dignity as I can.

  “Cole and Xavier are in the West Tower,” Tau says. “I need to speak with them.”

  Indicating with a sweep of his hand that he’s ready to go, I follow him out into the hall as we walk toward the tower of rooms that Brennus had created just for me. I have no interest in seeing them again. The things that I cherish the most, like the pictures of my childhood, are gone now, having been stolen back by my friends. Peeking at Tau, I wonder what he’ll think of the archive—the homage to my past.

  Will he recognize anything? I wonder.

  On our way, we’re stopped by several groups of angels all vying for a chance to speak with Tau. Some seem to have business with him, but others just act like they’re meeting a roackstar for the first time. I try to be polite, but after a while I start to feel like a kid in the backseat of a station wagon while her parent runs tedious errands.

  Finally, we break away from Tau’s adoring fans and turn onto the corridor leading past the Knight’s Bar. I almost stumble to a halt. Opulent decay, like that of the weathered seawalls in Venice, is present around the foundation in this corridor, caused by the saltwater that had flooded out of the Knights Bar after my escape. The flotsam from the contents of the room had washed here to be stranded below the fearsome, slithering beasts woven within the tapestries when the water abated.

  As we pick our way around the debris, a dark, eerie energy permeates the air. It grows stronger with every step nearer to the double doors that are guarded by two heavy, medieval suits of armor.

  “Uhh,” I groan, instinctively shying away from the precipice of the doors. Low energy, like cold, glacial water winding downstream, flows over my skin on its way under the doors and between the cracks in the wood to deposit, like silt, into the basin of the room.

  Tau’s wings shield me from the entrance to the room. “Is there something here?” Tau asks me with concern.

  “You could say that,” I reply, and I almost have a heart attack when Tau moves forward to push both the doors open. “NO, DON’T!” I yell, grasping him by the upper arm and pulling him back from the room’s threshold.

  “It’s okay, Evie,” Tau says in a gentle voice while he turns to me and strokes my hair back from my forehead. Looking into my eyes, he asks, “Do you sense magic?”

  I nod, holding on to his arm tighter as he turns to get a better view through the open doors. “Don’t—”

  “The Gancanagh’s magic won’t hurt me. It’s an amusing illusion to me, Evie,” Tau says in a soothing tone. “Parlor tricks for angels…” he trails off, while easing my hand off of his forearm. “I’ll investigate the room for you, if you will agree to wait here.”

  “Maybe we should wait—I promised Russell I’d stay away until he came with me,” I state.

  Glancing hesitantly inside the room, it’s as if I’m gazing through a delicate, hazy-blue, silk scarf. The effect causes a soft blurring and rounding of shapes so that everything takes on a very seductive and tranquil appeal. If I were to reach out, I feel that I could then tug away the hem of the scarf to reveal the true contents of the room, but without removing it, the veil creates the aura of what the room had been like before I completely swamped it with water from the ocean.

  “Tell me what you see,” Tau says as he takes a step through the doorway.

  “I see…I see the Knight’s Bar—how it was originally with the rosette windows intact—throwing colored light on the wooden bar—”

  “It’s evening,” Tau remarks. “You do know that?”

  “Not in there it isn’t,” I reply. “In there, it’s sunny.”

  “What else do you see?” he asks.

  “Suits of armor lining the wall, delicate chandeliers over elegant wooden tables, rows of exotic bottles of liquor behind the bar…”

  “Enticing?” he asks.

  “It would be, if it weren’t for the…” I pause.

  “The?” Tau prompts, walking further into the room out of arms reach.

  My voice sounds a little higher than normal when I say, “I’m aware that you’re known for raising the level of bravery into the stratosphere, but you’re making me nervous.” I take a step closer to the precipice, doing a little hand-wringing. “If you come back this way, I’ll tell you.”

  “Are you worried for me?” Tau asks, sounding amused.

  “Why is that funny?” I furl my brow, while gesturing to him with a frown to come back.

  “I don’t know, it just is,” he smiles, coming closer to me, but stopping just inside the room. “You were saying it would be enticing if…” he prompts.

  “If it didn’t also feel like this room was made for only one type of species: Gancanagh,” I explain.

/>   “Ahh, depauperate,” he says, his eyes lifting towards the rosette windows.

  “Uhh…yeah, that…let me put it to you another way. Everything I see inside it beckons me in—I’m almost dazzled by the elegant details—its ethereal glow. But, it instinctually freaks me out, too.”

  “I see,” he says thoughtfully.

  “You do?” I counter.

  “Yes,” he nods, “you are attracted to the magical mimicry and repulsed by it.”

  “It’s more than that,” I admit. “This room is drawing low level energy to it like dead meat attracts flies.”

  “Low energy?” he asks.

  My forehead wrinkles as I try to think. “Umm, that’s hard to explain. Low energy feels cold and it acts cold. It’s slower and it feels more solid—like ice. Higher energy burns and is quick like water slipping over the falls.”

  “The room is filled with low energy?” Tau asks.

  “Yeah, but the problem with the magic in this room is that it’s not holding still to disguise its contours from me—it’s almost fluid…watery. It’s acting like high energy.”

  “Maybe Brennus doesn’t know how sensitive you are becoming to his magic,” Tau says. “He may have thought the room would charm you enough so that you would walk in here…and once in here, it could trap you or harm you.”

  “Maybe…or maybe it’s the opposite, a deception to serve as a disguise. You’re a stealth-hunter, so you don’t usually require camouflage. But, what if…what if he planned for me to notice its confusing energy?” I ask with a raise of my eyebrow. “What if he doesn’t want me in this room?” I near the threshold.

  Tau stands in my way, “Confound the adversary into entering,” he says softly, not letting me walk around him into the room. “It is nothing like you described, Evie. It’s dark—the only light in it is shed from the stars through the shattered windows.”

  A shiver passes over my skin, while the empty shape in my heart seems to grow bigger. “What if his plan is to be counterintuitive?”

  I want that to be true. Suddenly, I feel a bittersweet urge to go in, to see if it’s different from the nightmares I’ve had about it since my escape. I inch closer as the hazy fabric of magic dances and waves. The effect is hypnotic, making me feel languid.

  “What?” I ask the murmur of secretive voices coming from the room. “Yes, I hear you…why have you been waiting so long?”

  “Evie,” Tau says, standing directly in front of me and blocking my way with his tall frame. Slowly, I crane my neck to see his face. “No one’s there. To whom are you speaking?”

  “The one true lover…he has a hundred kisses for me,” I say softly as my breath comes from me in cold swirls.

  Instantly, Tau closes the doors and then takes my elbow and makes me walk with him to one of the suits of armor. Pulling the lance from its grasp, he lets go of me and walks back to the doors, thrusting the lance through the handles and essentially barring them.

  With the doors closed, I find it easier to think. “Wow, that was a trip,” I say under my breath.

  Pointing his finger at me with a frown, Tau says adamantly, “You’re not allowed in there.”

  “Yeah…okay,” I agree in confusion, feeling muddled.

  “You’re not allowed in this corridor either,” he orders, “and I want no less than two bodyguards with you at all times.”

  “Bodyguards?” I groan, finding it hard to think. “I hate bodyguards.”

  “You’ll adjust,” he says, glancing at the doors grimly. “Their magic is rampant in this house and you’re susceptible to it.”

  Scanning his face, I see he’s bothered by my vulnerability. “Don’t worry, they’re susceptible to mine, too.”

  “Don’t worry, she says,” Tau replies exasperatedly, looking toward the ceiling like he’s talking to Heaven. Frowning at me, he continues, “You were just speaking to the magic in that room.”

  “Weird, huh? It’s even stranger when you hear it speak back,” I reply with a grim smile.

  “What did it say?” he asks, looking like he is gearing up for an interrogation.

  My cheeks burn while I straighten and shrug, “It asked me to look upon the room with lover’s eyes…to see the aesthetics as a reflection of what will become mine if I just take the steps to seize it…something like that.”

  “You’re aware that it’s merely a beautiful theatre?” he asks tensely.

  “It’s more like a peep-show,” I reply. “The Gancanagh aren’t sentimental—they’re sensual and mercurial.”

  “This estate is strong—contradictory. You cannot become complacent here,” he cautions me.

  I want to roll my eyes. Having lived here with the killers gives me some insight as to what I can expect. “I’m aware it’s not the setting that the postcard makes it out to be. And, may I add, that the lance you used to bar the door isn’t going to keep anyone from getting out of there,” I point out.

  “It’s not a lance, it’s a type of polearm called a bardiche, not to be confused with a halberd—that resembles an axe-head. I had meant the bardiche more as a warning to angels not to enter,” he states.

  “Oh, well, it’s very subtle—you’re message,” I say for clarity, before pulling energy to me and then releasing it in the direction of the hollow armor enshrined in their alcoves beside the doors.

  The loud screech of metal rubbing against metal sounds as the armor animates; the knees of the dull iron bend outward. Then, heavy boots clamor against the floor when the ancient warriors both jump down from their stone niches. Straightening up, they march forward, much like the guards of Buckingham Palace, to block the doors and serve as a deterrent to anyone planning to investigate this room.

  I glance at Tau to gauge his reaction to what I’ve just done and see his eyebrow arch. “What, too much?” I ask innocently, as both my eyebrows rise, too. He shrugs, while leading me away from the doors with his arm linked to mine. “You didn’t think that was stellar?” I ask in an attempt at playfulness. “I made them march—”

  “I know, I saw them,” he says with as close to an eye-roll as I’ve ever seen from him, but I also see the suppressed smile in the corners of his lips. “Your soldiers seemed a little innocuous,” he states, and then he grins when he sees my eyes narrow.

  “But, it’s hard for you to judge as a casual observer, right?” I ask, knowing he’s teasing me. “No, no, don’t answer that,” I advise, seeing the gleam in his eye.

  As we walk farther down the West Corridor, I find it harder and harder to breathe, let alone trade insults with Tau. Memories of Eion dragging Lachlan from the attacking Werree destroy any pleasant feelings that my sanctuary used to evoke. Passing through the doors carved with angel wings, I pause when Tau stops just inside. His expression, usually so sedate, now appears rattled, like he hadn’t expected this.

  The furniture from the house that I grew up in with Uncle Jim is still here, largely untouched. Buns and Brownie had helped Zee, Reed, and Russell pilfer the room of many of my pictures and sentimental items from my childhood. They had also taken the portrait that Mr. MacKinnon had painted of me, too. But some things still remain: things that Tau clearly recognizes. My focus is not on the distant past. It’s centered on the mantle. The crystal box is still here, gracing the space just above the grate.

  “This was my favorite chair,” Tau says weakly, going to a chair near the fireplace and touching it lightly with his fingertips. “I can still smell home on it—it’s soft.”

  “Uh huh,” I say absently, passing near him to the mantle. “It’s from a time when things were never hard.”

  Reaching the fireplace, I lift the cold, smooth lid of the box and I’m not surprised to see that the letter-opener that had been inside it is now missing. It was my weapon; the one I had used to fend off Brennus when he had kidnapped me at the library. It’s the one relic that means something to him. He had given me his; he would take mine.

  “Tau,” Cole says from one of the levels above. I close the l
id of the box and follow Tau beneath the balconies to the three upper levels. Looking up toward the rounded ceiling, I see Cole leaning casually against the balcony two stories above us. Cole calls out, “I found home movies of Evie, you have to take a look.”

  Tau glances at me in silent question and I shrug. Smiling, he flies into the air and becomes almost a blur as he passes by the second floor library tier to the third floor media room. I follow a bit slower because I haven’t got nearly as much power in my wings as he does.

  “Oh, hey,” Cole says when he sees me, tipping his chin up at me like he would when we sat next to each other in class. His black hair falls over his brow before he sweeps it away from his hazel eyes.

  “Hey,” I acknowledge him with a chin nod, too.

  The theatre screen, mounted on the wall, shows images of seven-year-old girls in pink jerseys and pink knee socks over shin guards. They are passing a black and white soccer ball to each other as they wind down a viridescent field lined with white chalk.

  “Evie’s about to go in,” Cole narrates with his eyes affixed to the screen and the remote in his hand.

  Tau, standing next to me, stills. Then, the far away crowd noises are blotted out by my Uncle Jim’s voice, cheering, “Let’s go, Evie!” while the picture bounces and struggles to focus.

  Tightness squeezes my throat at the sound. I want to wrap myself in the resonance of his voice in one second and hide from it in the next. Through tear-clouded eyes, I glance at Tau, who smiles broadly, while still watching as the seven-year-old me runs after the ball and kicks it, causing red pigtails to bounce and sway.

  Tau inches forward, slowly sitting on the brown leather couch in fascination. “The Pink Pixies,” he murmurs my team’s name. Goose bumps rise on my forearms.

  “She’s about to score,” Cole informs Tau with anticipation, while sitting next to him.

  They both are riveted to the screen as the little girl that I used to be sprints by the yellow-jersey defender to boot the ball at the goal.

  “YAH!” they both cheer, standing and applauding as if it just happened a second ago and not twelve years in the past.