Unchained: Feathers and Fire Book 1

by Shayne Silvers

  Chapter 36

  A crashing sound and a curse woke me. I jumped up from the couch, eyes wild, only to find my dad sitting on his ass by the front door, a pile of brooms surrounding him. He had sprung one of my traps while trying to open the front door.

  He grumbled as he climbed to his feet, shooting me an accusing glare. I just smiled.

  “I was trying to get some groceries before you woke up.” I opened my mouth to yell at him, because sneaking out of the house wasn’t safe. He held up a hand, clutching the marble. “I keep it handy, don’t worry.”

  I shook my head. “I’ll go get the groceries, dad. Stay here and make some coffee.”

  He finally agreed, mumbling about overbearing women under his breath, but loud enough to make sure I heard. I smiled, tugging my hair into a pony tail, snatching up a pair of old sunglasses from my room, and brushing my teeth.

  A nice walk would do just the trick to wake me up. It was only ten minutes away. If you knew which yards to cut across, and having grown up here, I did. Driving by car would also take ten minutes, thanks to detours and traffic lights.

  I strode through the doors of the natural food grocery store, shivering at the blast of cool air striking me like a winter gale, then I was past it, the glass doors sliding closed behind me as I pressed on. My eyes darted about discreetly, studying faces, waiting for a monster to attack me. After all, the vampires had attacked my apartment last night, a Demon had personally demanded I back off, and someone had framed me, warning the vampires ahead of time that I was coming for them. Part of me thought the Demon was behind that, but it just didn’t make sense. The Demon bitch wanted the spear, so she would have just taken it. Maybe the bears had framed me?

  None of that mattered now. I was here to get groceries, and to be quick about it.

  As I strode past the checkout counters, I almost stopped short. Johnathan stood laughing with a pretty young girl behind the counter. He didn’t seem to notice me at all, but the smile he gave her — and the one she gave right back — sent a small stab of pain into my heart. Then the girl placed a hand on Johnathan’s hand, and his smile grew downright boyish, and my pain turned into a very cold anger.

  I realized I had stopped and was staring openly at the two of them, because he suddenly looked up and saw me. His face lit up brightly as he waved, patted the cashier’s hand, and then made his way straight for me. Instead of acknowledging, I calmly, oh so calmly, walked away to the frozen section, wanting a blast of cool air to touch me, because my anger was not cool any longer, but white hot.

  I heard him calling my name urgently, but didn’t slow.

  He soon caught up, and walked beside me, leaning forward to stare at my face as he waved his hand to get my attention, as if I had missed seeing him.

  I rounded on him. “What?” I snapped.

  He took a step back, frowning. “Is everything alright? You look like someone just murdered your cat.”

  “I don’t have a cat,” I gritted through clenched teeth.

  “It’s a saying…” he said, sounding confused. “Can… I do anything to help you?”

  I began walking again, frustrated at his level of ignorance, but he barreled right past me, stopping ahead of me to walk backwards before my march. “Coincidentally, my mood changed the moment I saw you,” I said, trying to walk past him.

  “Me? What did I do? I haven’t even spoken with you since the bar last night.” He sounded truly confused.

  “Maybe you could ask the cashier what I’m upset about. She seemed very concerned with your… feelings.” He still didn’t let me pass, but a look of sudden understanding flashed across his face. And then, since he must have been suicidal, he began to laugh.

  Hard.

  “Amira? She’s my sister!” he gasped between deep bellows of laughter.

  I stopped dead in my tracks like a sailboat without a breeze. “What?” I whispered.

  He was nodding. “If you must know, I was telling her about you.” He looked over my shoulder and grinned wider. Then he pointed. “See?”

  I slowly craned my neck to see the pretty young girl smiling at us. Well, at Johnathan. I felt my face flushing red, but I didn’t say anything for a few moments. I hadn’t really seen her clearly in the bar, but she did look similar to one of the girls I had seen flirting with the boys. “I’ve been… busy with things,” I said, not knowing how else to backpedal.

  Johnathan nodded slowly, but his smile was fading. He sounded like a man stepping out on a frayed bridge as he spoke. “Things like that flashy bastard outside the bar?” he asked very softly, very calmly, but I could sense the jealousy in his tone.

  “Nate? I didn’t know you saw…”

  “Everyone saw, Callie,” he muttered angrily. “That wasn’t the night cap I had been hoping for. I didn’t think a piece of shiny paper would interest you.”

  “Wait. You think he and I… Don’t be ridiculous,” I said, squashing down a whisper inside of me that reminded me of the odd feelings I had around Nate. Perhaps it was just interest — platonic interest — in a fellow wizard closer to my age. Someone who was outside the bounds of the church or the Academy. A rogue. A rebel without a cause. Someone exciting as opposed to the monotonous drone of the church’s teachings. I wasn’t sure. But I did know that whatever I felt for Nate, that I felt something much different for Johnathan. Something deep. Fresh. Exciting. The prospect of personal fun. Nothing to do with magic and danger. Sure, he claimed to believe all that was real, but his innocence was like a rock in a river, letting the problems of the world rush on past him while he remained grounded.

  And I realized that he had every right to feel jealous, because Nate was a handsome, flashy bastard. He did it on purpose. Part of his disguise, he had said. But I thought he secretly enjoyed it as well. Not just a disguise, then. An alter ego.

  Still, Johnathan and Nate were entirely different. And the romantic interest I felt for Johnathan was nothing like the feelings I had for Nate. Thoughts of him simply chimed in unison with my life as a Freak, while Johnathan spoke to that deeper core that was Callie. Which was much more important.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Nate? God, no.”

  He frowned. “No, not Nate. Whatever has your shoulders so tensed up.”

  He was right. Every muscle in my body seemed ready to fight or flee. I took a breath and relaxed, motioning him to follow me. I really did need to get these groceries wrapped up. “Just work stuff.”

  “Maybe we can grab dinner tonight? Talk about it.”

  “You are persistent!” I smiled, picking up a bag of oranges and a few apples. If I was going to shop for my father, I was going to get the healthy stuff. Whether he liked it or not.

  He shrugged guiltily, smiling. “Well?”

  I sighed. I couldn’t tonight. Nate and I were going after the bears. “I have some things to do tonight, but maybe in a few days?”

  He looked crestfallen, but finally nodded. “Things to do with Nate?”

  I smiled sadly. “Unfortunately. He’s… nothing. Just an acquaintance I have to work with. Trust me, he has baggage. A fuck-ton of baggage.”

  We continued to walk, Johnathan following me as he teased me about my shopping. “You’re one of those people,” he shuddered, staring at the pile of produce in my basket.

  I rolled my eyes. “It’s for my dad.”

  “Oh, is he sick?” I frowned at him, shaking my head. “I just meant that since you’re shopping for him, maybe he wasn’t able to get out and about.”

  I tried to keep my face calm at the words, because they were dead on. But for different reasons. He was a potential target. “No, he’s fine. I’m just helping out. Like a good daughter.”

  Johnathan nodded, dropping the topic, but my words did seem to hold meaning to him. Maybe he liked that I took care of my dad. We wrapped up my shopping with less words between us. Because my thoughts were all on my dad, and Johnathan probably felt he had said something wrong.


  We checked out with Amira, who smiled approvingly at us the entire time. This close, I saw she had an almost Asian look to her, as if one of her parents or grandparents had been of that ethnicity. She flashed very white teeth at me, winking when Johnathan wasn’t looking, grabbing my bags for me as I paid.

  I dipped my head, trying to keep my own smile from making me look like a hopeless tween. Then we were walking out the store. “Which car is yours? I’ll put these—”

  He stopped abruptly, staring at a car parked up against the curb, right in front of the doors. It was a drop-top red Mustang. But that wasn’t the most bizarre part. Claire sat in the passenger seat wearing her favorite sunglasses, talking excitedly into her phone. Nate lay sprawled out on the hood, hands behind his head, chuckling as he stared up at the sun. And that reporter, Alyssa, I had seen at the bar was laying on her side, talking to him, even poking him in the ribs, making him laugh.

  “I heard that, you rich bastard!” Claire warned with a playful grin, covering the phone as she did, and Nate and the reporter chuckled, throwing up their hands as if caught red-handed. Claire shook her head, resuming her conversation in the phone.

  Johnathan cleared his throat, and they all turned to face us with very different looks. All smiles, but different kinds of smiles. Nate and Alyssa slid off the hood with guilty grins — as if they had been caught making out under the bleachers at a high school football game.

  “You’re blocking the entrance,” Johnathan said in a neutral tone. Not rude, not threatening, but voice tight with disapproval. Still, he shifted from foot to foot uneasily. I didn’t blame him. A guy like Johnathan against a dominating man like Nate? But it was cute. He was subtly trying to show me something about himself, cost be damned.

  Chapter 37

  Nate strode up to us, frowning in bewilderment at Johnathan. Then he held out a hand. Johnathan hesitated, then let out a composed breath, extending his hand to shake with Nate, but I could tell it irked him.

  Nate nodded, still holding Johnathan’s hand. “Sorry about that. We were just waiting on Callie. Thanks for getting her groceries. I’m sure your manager appreciates your extra effort.” He moved so quickly that I don’t know who was more surprised, me or Johnathan. But he was suddenly holding the bags of groceries, and walking towards the trunk of the car, popping it open and placing the bags inside. Then he closed it and walked up to the driver’s side door, watching us with a patient smile. He was fiddling with that coin again, looking bored.

  Johnathan’s face was almost purple with outrage, and I saw that he held a twenty-dollar-bill in his shaking fist. Christ, did Nate have to belittle everyone he met? I quickly stepped in front of him, not wanting anything bad to happen, especially if Johnathan opened his mouth. Nate was unpredictable.

  “I told you he’s trouble. Don’t worry. I’m almost finished with him,” I murmured to Johnathan. “We’ll grab dinner. Soon. Okay? He didn’t mean anything by it. I promise.” Or maybe Nate had meant something by it. Looking at Johnathan now, with his white polo and khaki shorts, he kind of looked like he could be an employee at first glance. Still, I could completely understand his embarrassment and outrage.

  He gritted his teeth, adjusting his glasses with a finger quivering with anger. “I am no one’s fucking employee,” he growled. “He has no idea who he’s talking to…”

  I placed a hand on his shoulder, and was surprised to feel his flexed muscles beneath, hot to the touch and quivering slightly. “Please. Leave it alone. Please…” He was lithe, but had more muscle than I had thought. Not a lot, but what he had was functional.

  He finally met my eyes, and for a few seconds, I wasn’t sure if he was going to listen. Then he let out a deep breath, nodding stiffly. He leaned to the side as if to say something to Nate, so I quickly stepped in front of him again, turning to Nate.

  “He doesn’t work here, Nate. He was being a gentleman. Something you ought to learn.” I could practically feel Johnathan’s surprise behind me. Claire slid further into the seat, recognizing my tone. “Johnathan is a friend.” I realized my poor choice of words too late. “A very good friend.”

  Nate shrugged. “Oh. My mistake, Johnathan. You ready, Callie?” he asked, not bothering to hide his lack of care, more important things on his mind.

  Johnathan strode up to the car, and tossed the money underhanded into the back seat. “Use it to buy some courtesy lessons. Or to help with Grimm Tech.” Nate had begun to laugh at the first comment, but I saw storm clouds suddenly roll across his green eyes at Johnathan’s mention of Grimm Tech. But Johnathan was already walking away, cursing and muttering under his breath. I watched him, fascinated.

  I finally climbed into the front seat, since Claire had jumped into the back while I stared at Johnathan. “Let’s go, asshole.”

  The reporter, Alyssa, was standing beside the car, watching the scene unfold. “I’ll talk to you later, Nate,” she said, smiling encouragingly at him.

  “We’ll let you know when we’re finished with him, Alyssa,” I said with an overly sugary smile on my face, and then put my sunglasses on. “Drive, Temple.”

  Claire coughed in the back seat, and I heard her saying goodbye to Gabriel, of all people. I had assumed it was her mother, or Roland.

  Alyssa’s smile was frozen on her face, but her eyes were daggers. I waved in her direction, but turned my head to face forward, dismissing her. I saw an expensive black Ducati motorcycle speed away in the opposite direction as I stared into the side mirror. The man wore no helmet, but I recognized that white polo, and let out a sigh as Nate did as commanded and drove out of the parking lot.

  A Ducati meant that Johnathan had money. Serious money. And he had hinted — for the first time to my ears — that he was an important person, no one’s employee, he had said. But he had seemed to have contempt for that flashy bastard, as he had called Nate. But Johnathan was obviously wealthy if he owned a Ducati motorcycle. I doubted I would have ever learned that in one of our talks. He had said he worked for some corporation, but he had changed topics before I could push for details, and to be honest, I hadn’t cared anyway. Especially when he didn’t seem interested in talking about it.

  He was humble, but also wealthy.

  My eyes tracked to Nate, watching him out of the corner of my eye. He was still twirling the coin in one hand, driving with the other. The coin would disappear as he moved to shift gears on the car, and then resume rolling across his knuckles again a moment later. His hands looked scarred from work, causing me to frown. As he moved his hand on the steering wheel, I noticed a very pronounced scar — what looked like a brand — on his palm, but it was back on the wheel before I could get a good look. That was what I had felt when we touched hands. Was it a shield tattoo like Roland wanted me to get for my fan? But why put it on his palm? And I had never seen him use a shield in our fights. I would keep an eye out for it later.

  Before I could open my mouth to chastise him, the car began to ring from the Bluetooth speaker. Nate casually touched the phone tucked into one of those mounts on the dash. The screen flashed to a pretty dark-haired girl. Her eyes furrowed and she leaned closer, studying Claire and I. “Well, Nate. You are one dirty dog. Two of them? I guess your breakfast date went well?” she asked, grinning from ear to ear.

  “Hey, Othello. What’s going on?” Nate replied, ignoring her question.

  The woman hesitated, her eyes darting to me and Claire. I feigned not to notice, but was suddenly paying much closer attention as I stared out the window. What didn’t she want us to know?

  “I got a call earlier from… Hemingway. Said you spoke with him earlier. Everything alright?”

  Nate nodded casually. “Everything is fine. I should be back in St. Louis in a few days. We need to catch up.” His tone had an edge to it. A warning. For Othello to drop whatever it was she might say.

  “Okay. Sounds good. Just checking on you with all the… well, you know how it is.”

  Before Nate could respond, I spoke. “Don�
�t worry, Othello. We’ll keep him out of trouble.”

  Othello let out a burst of laughter, surprising me. “You must not know Nate very well.” Then she shot a teasing grin at Nate. “Work trip, my ass. Later.”

  Then she hung up. Nate let out a sigh, shaking his head. “My friends are pretty blunt.”

  I didn’t press. I knew he wouldn’t be completely open about it anyway, not if he had discreetly tried to warn Othello from speaking, but also, because I didn’t care. I was still upset with his treatment of Johnathan, and him flirting with that reporter. How the hell had she just happened to show up?

  “She asked for a ride. We grabbed breakfast together,” Nate said casually, as if reading my thoughts.

  “You went on a date?”

  Claire chuckled. “If that was a date, then I was the third wheel,” she chimed in. “We tried calling you,” she added, sensing my silence.

  I pulled my phone from my pocket and saw she was right. I had slept in later than I wanted to, not checking my phone before leaving for the grocery store. She had called while I was still asleep on the couch. It was now late morning, later than I had thought, almost noon. I looked up at her, and she shrugged.

  “Who’s looking after Roland if you two are brunching together?” I asked.

  Nate glanced over at me. “The less movement at the storage units, the better. We don’t want to attract attention. He’s safe. He helped me put up some wards after you left. A second line of defense inside the storage unit. And Claire gave him a sphere that will send him to the church.”

  I muttered under my breath. One, because it was smart, two, because Roland shouldn’t be using magic while injured, and three, because no one was there to guard him right now, even if he had a sphere. “He’s probably bored out of his mind. We should get him a radio or something.”

  Nate was fighting a grin. “I gave him a bible before we left…”

  Claire coughed again, muttering something about a bug.

  “Fucking asshole, Nate. Truly.”