by Nya Jade
“I know you must feel misled,” Afua said. “But it was a deception necessary for the greater good.”
“Why the high priority now?” Phoebe asked, tightening her grip on the railing.
“Your intel about the Anzaini,” Afua said, a hint of pride in her voice. “It has shaken the Crowns. They’ve already convened the Royal Court to discuss this matter.”
“So it’s true what Lia—Montclaire’s blog said about the Anzaini?”
Afua nodded. “The Anzaini have historically been silent leaders. Their mystery adds to their power. They went underground centuries ago promising to make their presence known only when they could crush the Royal Court. So if they want you Hyphas, the Royal Court wants to know why.”
“Then why take you off the case? When you’ve brought them something they consider . . . valuable.” She almost choked on the word, knowing that for the Crowns, it didn’t apply to her, just to the information she represented.
“I’m still involved. I’ve been recalled to the Court.” Afua gave a dark chuckle. “Apparently my ‘expertise’ has been requested at some meetings. Not to worry,” Afua quickly added at seeing the look of disappointment on Phoebe’s face. “I’ll be seeing you there.”
“What?” None of this made sense anymore, as far as Phoebe was concerned.
“The Crowns want to meet the four of you before your Conversion. After you’ve all had time to recover from the trauma, of course,” Afua added. “This is a big deal. For all Hyphas.”
Phoebe stared out at the lake, thinking about everything Afua had risked for her safety. She felt a pang of guilt over her own deception. “A deception necessary for the greater good,” the Blackcoat had said. Phoebe decided that would be how she was going to justify keeping Colten’s secret. After all, not turning him in had ultimately saved her life. And it was his intel about the Anzaini that now had the Royal Court on high alert. But Phoebe knew that it wasn’t only Colten’s secret she was sheltering. At a few points during their talks, she had been tempted to tell Afua about her ability, but held back. There was still a chance that the prophecy had nothing to do with her, and in a way, she was hanging onto that notion. Lewis could be right. Maybe one of them would be able to wield the missing elements. Their December birthdays were coming. Conversion was around the corner. They’d know soon enough. And in the meantime, Phoebe needed to have that one thing that was just her own, separate from her other abilities as a Shaper, as part of the Shaper community. Not everyone valued her like Afua did, and those people were still in command of Afua, on some level.
“Thank you for—” Phoebe swallowed, twisted strands of her white streak around a finger and turned to face Afua, thoughtfully. “Thank you for my life,” she said.
Afua nodded. “Until later, Phoebe,” she said with a small smile.
Phoebe remained at the boathouse long after Afua had left, watching moonlight seep into the horizon like pale translucent tentacles reaching up to embrace the darkening sky around them.
THIRTY-THREE
“He’s the biggest teen sensation to hit the movie screens in years,” Kamron Hyack gushed to her audience. “And frankly, I have a big crush. I know you’ve been waiting patiently for him to come out, so please give a big Hyack Studio welcome to Colten Chase!”
The audience erupted in screams as the DJ played music and Colten entered the studio bobbing his head and dancing along. When he reached Kamron Hyack, the host stood and joined him in a short dance routine. The screams got louder.
Hayley pinched Phoebe’s arm. “Damn! Your boyfriend has some moves!”
“Ow! He’s not—”
“Yeah, yeah. Zip it!” Hayley said.
After a few minutes of talking about Colten’s new movie, Kamron Hyack said, “So the question on everyone’s mind Colten: what was going on with your date?”
“Well, Ms. Hyack . . .”
Kamron Hyack tapped Colten’s knee. “Clearly you were raised well,” she said. “But after that hot dance we shared, you can call me Kamron. In fact call me, anytime.”
Colten laughed with the crowd. “Okay, Kamron,” he said. “Well, the first time I met my date, she ran away from me. Then, when I tried to walk her to her dorm, she ran away from me again.” A flush spread through Phoebe’s cheeks as she remembered, and she was embarrassed as if both Colten and Kamron Hyack could see her. “At least,” Colten continued, “when she ran this time, she left something behind. So I’m getting closer.” He broke into a grin.
A swell of “oohs” and laughter came from the audience as Colten produced a diamond bracelet and dangled it from his index finger.
“You lost a diamond bracelet?” Hayley squealed at the same time a visibly excited Kamron Hyack leaned toward Colten gushing, “Is Colten Chase letting the world know that he’s found his Cinderella?”
“She’s getting too excited,” said Phoebe, who suddenly became nervous.
“Shhh, diamond girl,” Hayley hissed, waving Phoebe off. “I want to hear what he says.”
A few seconds passed and Colten said nothing. Phoebe’s hearts hammered in her chest. She bit her lower lip. Colten looked directly into the camera then, leaned in and gave a smile that could be interpreted either way. And Phoebe understood.
Dear Reader,
Thank you for reading The Year of Four–I am so grateful! If you enjoyed this book, I’d love and appreciate it if you’d take the time to leave a review . It would mean so much to me! Thank you.
Want more Phoebe Pope? Read on for the first chapter of The Blood of Kings, the next book in the Phoebe Pope series…
ONE
Phoebe Pope’s hearts gave a horrible jolt, forcing her to lose her grip on a volatile dream. Her nightmare—broken glass, the burning orange eyes of a beast—was replaced by a whirlwind of new images, a mélange of unfamiliar faces and places. Every cell in Phoebe’s brain fought against the intrusion until she found herself standing in front of a door with a gold number seven on it.
Phoebe looked around, seeing only a long white hallway with no other exits. Could this be a new scene in her dream? If so, what had her subconscious conjured up? A shift in the air made her feel as though the top layer of her skin had turned to ice, and the shock of it brought a choking cough to her throat. Then the walls shook and the ground began to crumble away beneath her feet. Panic bore into Phoebe’s chest. With no second thought, she grabbed the doorknob, turned it, and stepped into semi-darkness. . . .
Phoebe blinked as the darkness faded, unable to believe her eyes. She stood in the decadent hotel suite where she’d met Colten for his movie premiere—where they’d shared their first kiss. She looked around for confirmation. Thin curtains covered the wall-to-wall windows, but lights from the familiar Boston skyline winked behind them. The main illumination in the room came from the two fireplaces, where flames burned low.
A coffee table in the center of the room held a familiar stack of books. Phoebe smiled, remembering how Colten had memorized poetry by Yeats to impress her that night. She couldn’t help the spring in her step as she walked across the hardwood floor, past a loveseat, to the table. As she scanned the hardcover spines for the Irish poet’s work, it took a moment before Phoebe realized the books were flickering in and out of focus before her. What the . . . ?
“Don’t bother changing shape, cub,” said a cold female voice from somewhere inside the suite. Phoebe’s breath caught in her chest. “I’ll have a blade through your neck before the first whisker marks your face.”
Phoebe’s stomach gave a sharp lurch. As far as she could tell, the voice had come from one of the bedrooms. She glanced down the empty hallway to the bedroom and started running, stumbling on her long legs as she was prone to do.
This has to be a dream, she told herself. Her hearts pounded and she reached the first bedroom to find its door open. Only a dream. Emboldened by this insistent thought, Phoebe stepped over the threshold and froze.
Two people stood several feet from an open window, lit by moonlight str
eaming through diaphanous curtains. Colten faced Phoebe wearing nothing but gray sweatpants, his hands raised above his head, the toned muscles of his chest flexing with every breath. A woman stood directly behind him.
Tall, thin, and dressed head to foot in silver, she looked unlike anyone Phoebe had ever seen. An encrusted hood topped off a three-quarters-length-sleeve cape cinched with a wide belt. On her feet she wore flat studded boots that stretched over fitted pants to meet circular kneepads, which shone like miniature shields. But the woman’s face held Phoebe’s attention most—a face covered in a mask of molten silver, a metallic coating that exposed only dark, flashing eyes.
“What do you want?” Colten said to the woman behind him, his voice tight.
“We’ll talk when you’ve tamed the beast,” the woman said to Colten, resting a hand on the dagger holstered to her thigh. She hadn’t noticed Phoebe as far as Phoebe could tell. “I’m not here to kill you, cub. But one false move and that can change.”
Phoebe’s legs buckled at the promise in the woman’s words. When she grabbed for the doorframe to steady herself, nothing but air moved through her fingers, and she tumbled through the wall to the ground with a thud. Certain she’d announced herself, Phoebe climbed to her hands and knees and looked up, blood pounding in her ears. But neither Colten nor the intruder made any sign that they had noticed her.
Oh my god, she thought, rising to her feet. Can they not see me?
“Good job, cub,” the woman said. Phoebe’s eyes darted to Colten’s muscles; they had visibly relaxed. “Now we can talk,” she said. “It seems I keep getting credit for your kills.”
Colten stiffened. “I don’t know what—”
“Certainly it’s your business who you kill and why,” the woman said, continuing as though she hadn’t heard Colten. “But I make it my business when my name gets dragged into it.”
“You’ve got me confused with someone—”
“You can show me respect,” said the woman, impatience in her voice, “by cutting the act, Mr. Chase. I haven’t killed you yet because I find it impressive that you’ve stayed undetected by the powers that be for this long. A Vigo vigilante hiding in plain sight.” She laughed. “And in Hollywood, too. But some of your recent kills have hit the local Padrone’s organization. He wants your head.”
“So you’ve come to bring me in?” Colten said.
“You don’t deny it.”
“You seem sure of your intel.” Colten started to lower his hands.
“Keep them up.”
Colten raised his hands again.
With trepidation in her chest, Phoebe entered the room. She crept across the lush carpet to the foot of the king bed, taking care not to lean against it. She stood only feet from Colten now; it pained her to see anger and fear flashing in his green eyes.
Phoebe wanted to go to him, to run her hands through his tousled sandy hair, but she didn’t move; she had no idea how long she’d remain invisible, and giving herself away would only put Colten in greater danger. Her eyes drifted to the woman, and Phoebe noticed a wisp of blond hair had escaped around the edge of her hood.
“You still haven’t told me what you want,” Colten said.
“Consider this visit a warning,” she said. “You’re quite effective at killing your fellow Vigos. But you leave a trail because you haven’t committed.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“A true assassin eliminates a target and moves on. You, on the other hand, check up on the humans you rescue. I used that to track you.”
Phoebe took a breath at that. Colten hadn’t told her that he visited the people he’d saved. Her chest swelled with love for him.
The woman paced back and forth behind him. “Others are looking for you,” she continued. “But lucky for you, cub, my special skill set has brought me to you first. I’m prepared to keep your identity a secret—”
“You want to blackmail me?” Colten’s chest rose and fell fast and Phoebe feared that, this time, he wouldn’t be able to suppress the change.
“Don’t be juvenile, Mr. Chase. Turn around!” she commanded. Keeping his arms raised, Colten began to turn. “Not too fast.”
After a protracted moment of silence as Colten faced the woman, a ripple moved snakelike through her mask. She glared at Colten, who struggled to contain his rage. Phoebe bit down a gasp; the metal almost seemed alive. But the movement had happened so fast she wondered if she’d imagined it.
“What makes you think I care about my identity?” Colten said. “How do you know I don’t play both sides?”
The woman removed her dagger in one smooth movement and Colten flinched. For a brief moment, the woman directed her attention behind him and, on reflex, Phoebe shrunk into the shadows.
“You think too highly of yourself if you believe you can play both sides,” the woman said. She brought the tip of her thick blade to her mask and tapped her chin twice, a bright, tinny sound echoing around them. “I’ve cleaned up your trail, which means there’ll be no heat on you for a while. But you must stop leaving crumbs.”
“What do you mean you’ve cleaned up my trail?”
“I paid the humans you rescued a visit,” she said.
A low growl rumbled inside Colten’s throat.
“Careful, cub.” She pointed her dagger at him. “Remember, respect.”
“What have you done?”
“I killed them.”
Phoebe stopped a cry from escaping her lips, but her body shook and her eyes stung with brimming tears. White-faced and furious, Colten dropped to his knees and tore at the carpet with claws that shot inches past his fingers. He wailed as though someone had forced liquid fire down his throat.
“You sick bitch—”
“Not a good idea,” the woman said, speaking over him, “to insult the person holding the weapon.”
Colten balled his hands into fists and pressed them against his forehead. “Why?”
“To stop you from visiting them,” she said, matter-of-factly. “It seems you have a compulsion, cub. And I have a vested interest in keeping you under the radar.” With meaning in her tone, she added, “I didn’t harm the girl.”
Colten heaved a breath. When he spoke, his voice was strained. “What girl?”
“Eliminating her,” the woman said, ignoring him and sliding her dagger back into the sheath, “would have been too disruptive.” She backed away from Colten, stopping when her legs met the windowsill.
“Who are you?” Colten asked.
“Mercury.”
Colten blanched. “You’re supposed to be a story.”
“I am.”
“Meaning you don’t exist,” he said, standing.
“I don’t.” She pulled a silver envelope from her cape pocket and dropped it on the floor near her feet. “Consider it an invitation.”
Colten said nothing.
Mercury surveyed him, her eyes narrowing. “You do remind me of him,” she said.
“Who?”
“Your father.”
Colten’s head snapped up. “What—?” Then he swore as Mercury backflipped out the window and out of sight, curtains blowing in her wake. At first Colten stood staring at the window, his breathing quick, but then he rushed to it and leaned out, looking left, right, up, and down. With a growl, and with emotion that needed release, he crashed his fists down so hard on the windowsill that its wood splintered. Before Phoebe could even think to run to him, a bright light burst inside her mind. The last thing she saw was the murderous look on Colten’s face.
Then all went dark.
Phoebe opened her eyes. Somewhere a phone had just stopped ringing. She sat up and rubbed her temples, struggling to orient herself. She thought for a moment she was still dreaming, until the camera she’d left perched on her desk in front of her dictionary collection cemented her in her room. She looked at her bed. She could feel the weight and the texture of the duvet on her legs. She co
uld hear her roommate Cyn sleeping in the other bed.
Phoebe turned to her clock and frowned at it. It was almost six. She had elemental boot camp this morning, and she could use the extra hour of rest before her alarm went off, but as she curled into a ball and tried to find sleep, the dream kept replaying in her mind. It felt less and less real. Had a woman named Mercury caught Colten by surprise in his hotel? Did she really kill every human Colten had saved from Vigo attacks?
It occurred to Phoebe, as she lay there thinking through it, that she had no idea how many people Colten had rescued. Ten? Thirty? She shivered remembering the cold way Mercury had delivered the news. She could still see the anguish in his eyes.
And who was Mercury? Was she a Vigo? A Shaper? Phoebe knew one thing for sure: Mercury was not human. Because the human world knew nothing about Shapers, Vigos, or their blood feud.
The minutes trudged along, until Phoebe understood that waiting on sleep would be a waste of time. So she flung off her covers, got up, threw on a tracksuit, and grabbed her camera and backpack. Cyn snored under a mound of blankets. Careful not to make any noise, Phoebe crossed the dark room and stepped out into the hallway. She closed the door only seconds before her cell phone rang. Phoebe frantically searched her backpack for it, not wanting to wake the entire dorm. When she retrieved it, she found a private number flashed on its screen.
“Hello?” she answered, her voice hushed.
A second passed and the person on the other end sighed. “It’s me,” Colten said, causing Phoebe’s hearts to flip. “I needed to hear your voice.” Phoebe sank to the floor outside her room, unable to speak. “Hello? You still there?” said Colten.
Phoebe cleared her throat. “Yes, I’m here. I’m just surprised,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting to talk until tonight.”
“I know,” Colten said. “I’m sorry if I woke you and Cyn.”
“I’m in the hallway,” Phoebe said. “Besides, Miss ‘I’m a light sleeper’ can sleep through anything.” Phoebe drew her knees against her chest and listened to Colten laugh, the sound of it warming her body like hot chai tea on a winter morning. “Are you okay?” Phoebe asked, trying to keep the worry from her voice.