Ascension Series Boxset: Books 1 - 3

by Laura Hall

  Katrina whispered to her cousin, “Not so much Knowledge is Power, as Power is Power, eh?” Ethan grunted caustically.

  Robert, oblivious to giving more information than intended, led us around another corner into a wide hallway, at the end of which was a set of large, utilitarian doors.

  “Here we are.”

  The closer we moved to our destination, the stranger I felt. Around me, the walls wavered, light from the evenly spaced sconces pulsing in time with my heartbeat. My charge, quiescent since the earthquake in the desert, began to build.

  Ten feet from the lecture hall’s doors, I had to stop to catch my breath. And when I heard a clear, unfamiliar voice coming from within the hall, my charge leapt. Sparks fell from my fingertips. I recoiled away from the doors, the voice, and careened into a nearby wall. My head swam, blood rushed in my ears, and I slid gracelessly to the ground.

  The man’s voice continued, musical and low, amplified by a microphone. I couldn’t make out the words, but there was something achingly poignant about the tone. Something that reached inside me, filled me with longing . . .

  “Fiona! Can you speak? What’s wrong?” Ethan’s voice was hollow. He, Mal, and Katrina crouched around me, their faces pinched with distress. My eyes slid closed and ignored my commands to reopen.

  A heavy door creaked open and a wave of voices poured out of the lecture hall. Alisande’s voice rose above the rest, “Lucian, please come quickly!”

  Moments later, that musical voice said, “It’s a miracle she managed this long. Please, move aside. Allow me room.”

  “Who are you?” snarled Ethan.

  Mal whispered, “Mother of God,” and Katrina breathed, “No fucking way.”

  A presence knelt before me, with an aura unlike any I’d encountered. Heat and light, pulsing like a star. Hands cradled my face. Hot, hot fingers traced my jaw, cheeks, and brow, crackling with electricity that made my skin writhe.

  Behind my eyelids, energy danced. Light and dark, positive and negative. They warred for dominance, grudgingly admitted equal strength, and finally found equilibrium. My charge settled into a muted hum, and I took a deep, relieved breath.

  I opened my eyes to gray ones, similar to mine only speckled with green, set in an ageless face that was both delicate and unapologetically masculine. A long white braid, interwoven with gray ribbons, hung over one broad shoulder. He wore an oddly formal uniform, the same gray as his eyes, with thick, silver threading along the high collar.

  My savior smiled, a wolfish expression on his angular face, and lifted a hand to tug off my hat. His other hand still rested on my shoulder, a point of high heat that wasn’t so much painful as it was distracting.

  I was so punch-drunk, I almost asked if he was my father. He definitely wasn’t. There was nothing paternal in the way he was currently playing with my hair, or the way his eyes traced my lips, my nose, my chin.

  “Lucian, is she all right?” asked Alisande.

  He nodded, turning his head slightly. I saw his ears—delicately pointed—and everything started to make sense. In a down-the-rabbit-hole sort of way.

  Lucian’s eyes found mine again; his were tilted slightly at the corners. Everything about him was almost human but somehow more. His features were too perfect, his skin poreless porcelain, and his eyes . . . Like magnets, they drew me in, promising mysteries and magic.

  I swallowed and asked hoarsely, “Are we related?”

  “Definitely not,” he said with a wide grin. His teeth were perfect too.

  “What are you?” I asked, though I already knew. I just couldn’t bring myself to say it. It was like saying Santa Claus was real.

  “My name is Lucian Ó Cléirigh. I’m an emissary of the White Queen of the Western Sidhe. And you, Fiona, are a marvel. The first of your kind born in five centuries.”

  I blinked hard.

  Then I giggled.

  Lucian tilted his head, frowning slightly. “This is funny?”

  “So funny,” I assured him and wriggled out from under his touch.

  Ethan stepped forward and offered his hand. I let him pull me from the floor, but when his grip loosened I hung on tighter. If I couldn’t touch my uncle, he was the next best thing, and right now I needed someone to hold on to.

  Lucian rose gracefully from a low squat, proving he was packing some serious muscle. He wasn’t as tall as Ethan, but more than made up for it in otherworldly presence. Or maybe it was just a trick of light from the wall sconce behind him, which shone like a halo in his white hair.

  He sent a questioning glance at Alisande, whose gaze veered to my face. “Fiona, Lucian’s presence is a great honor, one bestowed on you by the White Queen. He’s here to escort you to the Western Sidhe. As he mentioned, your gift is extremely rare. You need training only the Fae can provide.”

  Ethan’s hand tightened on mine.

  I immediately envisioned a magical tunnel beneath a green hill that once traversed, disappeared forever, leaving me trapped in shining halls where the food was drugged and the dancing never stopped.

  The truth might be vastly different, but I wasn’t of the mind to find out.

  I met Lucian’s stormy eyes. “Thank you very much for helping me, uh, equalize. But I’ll have to take a raincheck on going anywhere with you.”

  His lips parted on a breath of surprise. “You cannot mean that.”

  “In fact, I do,” I said firmly.

  His head whipped toward Alisande, who wore a similar expression of shock.

  My temper kindled.

  “Alisande,” I said evenly, “Ethan needs to borrow some supplies. Once he gets what he needs, we’ll be leaving. Or we can leave right now. It’s your call.”

  Lucian took a step toward me. I realized the light around him wasn’t just from the wall sconce. He actually glowed.

  “Fiona,” he said urgently, “it’s too dangerous for you in the human world. You have my promise that once you master your Element, the White Queen will not prevent you from returning. You need not fear us.”

  “Maybe I don’t need to, but I do all the same.”

  He flinched like I’d struck him. I felt a flicker of guilt as sadness filled his beautiful eyes before they lowered to the ground.

  “It’s as I thought. We’ve been gone from the world too long and the lies about the Fae have rooted deep.” His gaze lifted to mine, intense with purpose. “The Queen wishes to rebuild the bridge of trust. It begins with you. With the two of us.”

  Ethan’s grip turned borderline painful.

  I had a random thought of Connor, of our last conversation in his bedroom, and his certainty that he wasn’t the only man who could touch me. I had a feeling, too, he wouldn’t be surprised in the least by my ancestry. That, indeed, he’d already known.

  My neck burned where two puncture marks rested, hidden by my hair.

  “Fiona,” whispered Ethan.

  I blinked. Everyone was watching me, waiting for some sort of response to Lucian’s insinuative statement. I shrugged helplessly. “Please give my apologies to the White Queen. Maybe we can speak after I find my dad. But I’m indisposed right now.”

  It was the best I could do.

  Lucian glanced at Ethan’s and my joined hands, then brought a narrowed gaze to my face. Lucky for him, the stare wasn’t condemning or annoyed, just curious.

  With a final look at Alisande, one ripe with meaning, the Fae bowed before me. Lifting my free hand to his lips, he placed a chaste kiss on my palm. The spot tingled with heat even after he released me.

  My eyes found his and I fell a little into their misty depths. “Fiona, when you’re ready to receive me, you need only speak my name three times with intent.” He looked away and the spell was broken. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a lecture to finish.”

  He spun on a heel and disappeared through the nearby doors, white braid swinging down his spine.

  I looked at Ethan and said the first thing that popped into my head, “I need a drink.”
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br />   Six

  A drink wasn’t in the cards, but my second wish came true. A bedroom and privacy, complete with a lock on the door. Despite the hard, narrow mattress and the cramped space, I was exhausted enough that sleep came swiftly.

  As did a dream.

  I breathed in the familiar scent of old books and leather, and a tightness in my chest eased. Opening my eyes on the Prime’s library, my gaze immediately veered to a wingback armchair before the crackling fire, and the man seated there.

  “Am I dreaming?” I asked.

  Connor didn’t look up from the book in his lap, but his head tilted. “What do you think?”

  I crossed the room and plopped down in the chair beside his, tossing my legs onto a cushioned footstool. He smirked, but stayed focused on his reading.

  “What I meant,” I said dryly, “was is this my dream, or are you playing mind games?”

  He marked his place with a finger and let the book fall closed on his knee. Green eyes lifted to mine, pale and faintly humored. A touch smug. Another knot inside me loosened.

  Understanding came in a rush. “I did this, didn’t I?” I murmured.

  An eyebrow arched. “Were you, or were you not, thinking of me as you fell asleep?”

  I had been, of course.

  “I was thinking I wanted to talk to you about the, er . . .”

  “Fae Lord who crossed an interworld boundary to find you?”

  I flushed. “Yep.”

  Connor expelled a soundless laugh, his head dropping back. “And how did Alisande react when you turned down his invitation?” he asked, patient rather than curious. Like he already knew exactly how she had responded.

  My neck tingled and I touched the healing bite mark. “I knew it! You did something to me when you bit me. Marked me somehow. Were you listening the whole time?”

  He chuckled and rolled his shoulders, melting further into the chair. “You really think me that powerful? Of course I wasn’t there. But as you drifted into sleep, you called out to me. And as I told you before, I see within you.”

  He lifted the book in his lap, purposefully spreading it open. The message was clear: my mind was an open book.

  The idea wasn’t as disturbing as it had been a week ago. Instead, I found it reassuring. I didn’t have to say aloud that I was afraid. He already knew. I didn’t have to acknowledge that somewhere inside me, I wept continuously over the revelation that Frank Sullivan wasn’t my real father. Nor did I have to admit I was running on emotional steam, and felt more unstable by the minute.

  He knew it all and watched me with calm, accepting eyes. Eyes that had seen more life, more war and death, than I could imagine.

  I found that reassuring, too.

  “I can read your mind easily enough, but I do enjoy the sound of your voice.”

  I shook my head chidingly, but smiled. “Alisande threw a major hissy fit.” He nodded, lips quirking higher. “She almost kicked us out. Mal had to work his Irish charm for twenty minutes before she agreed to help us.” I sighed in exaggerated disappointment. “And she seemed so nice the first time we met.”

  His eyes angled to mine, edges crinkled with laughter. “Nice would not be in the list of adjectives I’d use to describe Alisande Salvator.”

  “It isn’t in my list anymore, that’s for sure. She made it seem like I’d majorly insulted Lucian, and her by proxy. I don’t get it. He seemed disappointed but not insulted.”

  “Don’t be mistaken, Fiona. The White Queen will be very much insulted.”

  “You’ve met her?” I asked curiously.

  His eyes flickered between peridot and emerald. “Once or twice, before the Sidhe Courts went underground. And because I can feel the question in your lovely head, there are three courts. White, Red, and Black. Of the three, the White Court is the most progressive. Hence young Lucian’s proposal.”

  I smiled. “He didn’t look that young.”

  Connor grinned back at me. “He’s a pup.”

  I snorted, turning to stare at the flames as they licked through heavy logs. The silence was companionable, without our usual tension.

  At length, I murmured, “Connor?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I really don’t give a shit about the White Queen, the Sidhe Courts, or the Fae in general.” I felt his gaze on the side of my face. “You knew, didn’t you? That my biological father was Fae?”

  “I did.”

  I kept staring at the flames. “Trying to protect me again?” When he didn’t reply, I slid my gaze to him. My heart gave a little jolt when I found him watching me. Fighting a blush, I asked, “Any news about my dad?”

  “There were cages, but no evidence of a werebear at the raided lab in Oklahoma. And there haven’t been any new leads in your father’s case.”

  I nodded, unsurprised. “I think the lab from my vision is in Nevada, anyway. Rosie must have driven in circles for a week, because I’ve never heard of a trip from L.A. to Vegas lasting that long.”

  He made a noise of agreement. “Avoiding a tail.”

  “Well, she has one now and I’m not going anywhere.”

  “And what will you do when you find the lab, and your father?”

  “I don’t know yet,” I said honestly. “I’m assuming Katrina will call in backup. I’m pretty sure she’s FBI.”

  He nodded. “She is. SIU, Supernatural Investigations Unit.”

  I blinked in surprise, then angled my foot to nudge his leg. “Look at you, sharing privileged information with me. Did it hurt?”

  He snarled halfheartedly, revealing one glistening fang.

  I laughed.

  He waited for me to quiet, then said, “What I’m curious about is what you’ll do when you face the men who abducted your father.”

  Something in his tone prevented me from being flippant. “If I knew more about my power, maybe I could knock them out, leave them to the FBI. Right now, though, I seem to have two settings.”

  “Lightning or no lightning,” he agreed mildly. “It’s unfortunate this Lucian can’t teach you a few techniques before your paths diverge.”

  “I think he wants to teach me more than techniques,” I muttered.

  He laughed shortly. “And this surprises you? That there are men besides me who want to use you for their own gain?” I looked sharply at him, hearing the self-deprecation, but he merely smiled. “I learned my lesson, and I’m sure they will as well.” He paused. “Speaking of Ethan, how is he?”

  There was an edge in his tone that made my stomach free fall to my knees. Memory of the beach, and his bite, flooded my head and body.

  “Why do you care?” I asked shakily.

  His eyes darkened, but he didn’t respond, turning instead to gaze at the fire. He crossed his legs at the ankle, angling his bare feet toward the iron grate. He had beautiful feet, naturally.

  “I don’t think anyone has referred to them as beautiful before,” he mused lightly, and the tension of the last moment snapped. I rolled my eyes, very much doubting I was the first woman to notice his feet were as beautiful as the rest of him.

  My gaze snagged on an errant curl resting against his neck, then on the small bump on the bridge of his nose. His jaw was a touch too long, his lips a smidgen too full, and his eyelashes too thick for a man.

  He was so familiar to me, it seemed impossible I’d known him for little more than a week. In that brief time, he’d become vital to my life. I’d been gone from the compound three days and I already missed him. No, scratch that. I didn’t miss him, I craved him. It was beyond reason and completely outside my control.

  “Fiona,” he said warningly.

  I frowned to hide my embarrassment. “Why do you keep calling me that?”

  “It’s your name.”

  “You know what I mean,” I said softly.

  Don’t pull back, I thought helplessly. Don’t hide from me.

  Showing no reaction to my silent plea, he said mutedly, “I should not have renamed you. Objectified you. As
you said, you are not mine.” He closed his eyes briefly; a muscle ticked in his jaw. “The only explanation I may offer is that I felt a kinship with you prior to our first meeting. Born, I’m sure, of watching you so many years. I allowed myself the mistaken belief that I knew you and that you, in turn, knew me.”

  “I do know you.”

  He finally looked at me, and his eyes were dark, dark green. “Perhaps you do, inasmuch as anyone can know me.”

  “Now you’re being an arrogant ass,” I snapped. “Or a fickle teenager, I’m not sure.”

  He laughed, loud and long, and I listened in rapture to the sound, until the edges of my vision began to lighten and blur. I didn’t have to be a genius to figure out what was happening—this perfect dream was ending.

  I gripped the arms of my chair as the room began to spin. “Wait, Connor—”

  His lips trailed down the shell of my ear and pressed to the sensitive skin beneath. I tried to reach for him, but couldn’t feel my body. Couldn’t feel his touch.

  Then I felt nothing at all.

  Seven

  Early the next morning, Ethan secured a blood sample from me, commandeered the largest laboratory in the academy, and bolted the doors from the inside.

  Katrina and I posted up at the tiny table in my room and played every card game we could remember. We even made up a few new ones. Mal was our only visitor, stopping by periodically to bring us snacks and information.

  Alisande was still fuming. Lucian had disappeared after finishing his lecture, apparently without saying goodbye, which had only incensed her further.

  Personally, I thought her anger was misplaced. It wasn’t my fault Delilah had set her up for disappointment, or led her to believe I would be easily coerced. It made me wonder if the Fae had promised Alisande something for my cooperation.

  Whether my mother had thought I’d assent to Lucian’s offer was a mystery. So, too, was whether she’d seen a vision of the future showing just that.