When I’d thought I was going to die.
When I was torn from them and they had no knowledge of my location.
When I might have been in danger, and they weren’t able to protect me. To save me.
That was when inconvenience had blossomed into something else entirely. Something that we weren’t comfortable enough talking about… not yet, but soon, I promised myself.
“You too, Seph,” I whispered, biting my lip as I cut the call. I just stared at the screen for a second, before I blew out a breath and figured out how to send them my live location, then I tossed the cell at the sofa to my right. It bounced twice before it settled, but putting distance between it and me was imperative. I wanted to speak with all of them, like one giant pussy, so the only way to avoid looking like a lovesick fool in front of my grandfather, was to remove temptation.
I stared over at the small piece of hardware for a second as I murmured, “They’ll be safe here, won’t they?” That, I recognized, was all that mattered to me.
Sure, my entire universe was turning out to be one big bag of BS, but they weren’t stained with that.
Not yet, at any rate.
“Safety is relative. You can’t return to the Academy. It isn’t safe for you there.”
His words were exactly the wrong thing to say. I felt the force of my magic burst into being. It slalomed through me at the idea of my Virgo being at risk. All around me, the glow appeared, surging to life, and out of nowhere, the aquifer in Linford’s hand erupted into flame.
Both of us jerked in response, me because I hadn’t planned on that happening, and him because he obviously believed my magic was more contained than it was. From nowhere, a breeze whistled into the room, fanning the flames, and as the wind talked to me, I heard the glass in his hand creaking, the molecules that made up the container beginning to protest such intense heat.
Seconds away from exploding, his eyes flashed with the flames he was holding calmly in his hand, then, glowering at the drink, he blew out a breath. House bands glinting, the air he exhaled glimmered gold. When his magic cut off the fire that had been contained to the small tumbler, he growled, “Was that truly necessary?” Carefully, he placed the still-hot beaker on the small table at his side.
I eyed it, then him, and gulping, bit off, “My Virgo are in danger.” I began struggling to sit up, to get out of the bean bag that, if I wasn’t careful, would be turning into my bed for the night after I passed out from sheer exhaustion. I had to reach the cell I’d tossed so stupidly on the sofa next to me, a sofa that felt like it was a few miles away from me now. Speaking with them, telling them to stay put was imperative.
Linford scowled. “No. You’re in danger. Not them.”
Crazy though it was, that did make me feel better, until… “And they’re in danger through me,” I rasped, the realization hitting home like never before.
“They’re warriors,” he barked. “Born for the task, unlike you. I’d fear for yourself before I feared for them.” Then, he winced, the firm line of his mouth softening. “Your grandmother told me how volatile your magic was, I just didn’t realize… But, of course, the bond and the distance between you makes it worse—”
His waning words didn’t ease me any, nor did they make my magic cease churning, but the out-of-control feeling did abate. The pink that tinged everything around me began to fade as I asked, “The Academy, Grandfather, we can’t avoid it forever. The guys want to train for the trials. How will they form a real troupe if—”
“The trials of life.” He snorted and stunned the hell out of me by blowing on the aquifer before taking a sip of the now-hot brew. “Small price to pay unless you want to be like your grandmother. Constantly running and never able to settle.” Emotion flashed across his face, and it took me a second to recognize it on my grandfather’s patrician features—grief. Hurt. She’d hurt him. My grandmother had hurt him.
Before I could say anything, Sol, if there was anything even to say, he grumbled, “And it’s not like the son of Noa vil der Luir’s troupe is going to be penalized too hard. There has to be some advantage to all the ass licking that man has done.”
His snideness had me frowning. “You don’t like him?”
“I don’t like what he turned into,” Linford corrected with a sniff.
“And what’s he turned into?”
“A prig.”
Well, that was fighting talk. If anything could have made me smile, it was that. My lips even twitched a little.
Brow cocked, I queried, “I thought the troupe bond—”
“The troupe bond is nothing in comparison to the real Virgo bond, and let’s face it, we’ve only felt facsimiles of that because neither of us have completed the claiming.” He cocked a brow at me. “Correct me if I’m wrong.”
“You’re not,” I whispered, my cheeks flushing. I already knew that it took more than sex to claim my Virgo. It also took more than procreation, because if either of those were enough, then my grandmother would have claimed her men when she’d conceived my mother… Assuming they’d only done it the once.
Yeah. Right.
Once.
That thought had me almost snorting out loud.
If the need Virgos inspired in their witches was universal, then there was no way in Sol anyone in the bond would stop at only one time.
“My loyalty to your grandmother supersedes that of my loyalty to Noa which, you’re right, is still there. Just because I had to retire doesn’t mean the troupe bond disbanded with my absence.”
“How does that work?” I questioned, my brow puckering.
At the Academy, everyone in the warrior caste just talked about how the troupe bond existed. Nobody ever said why or how.
“Don’t they teach you anything at Eight Wings anymore?” he grumbled, and my lips twitched.
“If they do, I spent half my time ignoring what they were instructing.” I shrugged. “I didn’t want to be there. I wanted to go home.”
“Well, whether you like it or not, you’ve found a home. In fact, you’ve found two. Yours is definitely an unusual one. Witch born Fae aren’t rare, but they rarely, if ever, become warriors.”
My mouth dropped open—Sol, I really could catch flies with it today. “Really?”
“Yes. Really,” he said dryly. “Trust me, I’ve made it my best interest to study most of the graduating classes ever since you were born.” He waved a hand at the tomes on the wall. “This is my research on some of them.”
“But how did you know which students were witch born Fae and which weren’t? I mean, I assume they didn’t advertise it.”
“No, they didn’t, and I didn’t know, either. I had to study each individual student. Trust me, when you’re retired, you have nothing but time on your hands.” He huffed. “I differentiated fourteen witch born Fae that attended, just as you did, secretly, but they had the Conclave’s permission to be there.”
“So the Conclave knows about—”
“Of course they do,” he snapped. “Grow up, child. Everyone knows, but it’s still pertinent information that not everyone needs to know.” He grunted. “Fourteen witch born Fae, you among their ranks, and only you are a warrior. The others were instructors.”
“All of them?” I whispered, stunned by the notion.
He nodded and, bravely in my opinion, reached for his liquor once more. After blowing on it, he took a hesitant sip before muttering, “Your traits must make you more suitable for the training of others unlike the protective habits of the warriors or the proselytizing the admin do.” For the first time, scorn laced his words as he spoke of the admin caste.
That meant he and Daniel were going to get on like a house on fire.
Yay.
Not.
I blinked at him. “Why am I different? I mean, I didn’t even try to pass the test. I doodled on it.”
Linford’s mouth dropped open— ha, it was nice to see him stumped for once. “You doodled on the Skill’s exam?” he demanded, speaki
ng of the exam that determined our fate—whether we were to be warrior, instructor, or admin caste.
The one I’d drawn all over and somehow managed to earn myself a 93% pass.
“Yup. I was hoping I’d fail and they’d just send me home.” My brow puckered. “It didn’t work.”
He flinched, the aquifer in his glass jolting with the motion. “In all my years, I’ve never—”
“Never, what?” I challenged, aware that his disapproval of my actions stung. “I was alone, with no Conclave backing, with no familial support, either. I had no means of knowing how long I could sustain the lie of simply being witch born—”
“What do you mean? Sustain the lie?” he queried, sitting forward.
“My magic had begun to grow restless. Not much. Not as much as it’s started to now, but little flickers. I could feel it. Licking about my fingers, starting to burn my eyes—trust me, it made pink eye feel good.” I shrugged. “It makes sense now, of course. At the start of the school year, it was all over the place because I’d met them, and my emotions were all over the place, but it only truly began to manifest when I became a member of our troupe.”
“Once you were in closer contact with your Virgo?” At my nod, his eyes narrowed and he murmured, “Interesting.”
“Why?”
“Because your grandmother manifested before we were even on the scene.”
“Well, she was just more powerful than me, wasn’t she?” I snapped, irritated even more when he chuckled.
“Calm yourself, Granddaughter. I was merely remarking on Gabriella’s timeline and not your own.”
Though I contained my huff, barely, I folded my arms across my chest at the same time as I crossed my legs—these bean bags were epic. They were like huge pods that threatened to swallow me whole. At the moment, I’d have liked nothing more than to fall within its cocooning embrace and sleep away the hours that separated my mates from me, but I had questions I needed answering first.
“What’s going to happen to me?” I whispered, and my serious tone had his face softening as he looked at me.
“We keep you safe.”
“How?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. But we will develop a plan. There’s no need to fear.”
Of course, there was a need.
Not just because this lofty rebel alliance—as a Star Wars’ fan, I couldn’t deny the kick I got out of calling the AFata that—wanted me for some reason, but also because there were no guarantees in this world. And in this instance, the guarantee I wanted most was that my Virgo would accept my claim.
Daniel would. I knew that. But as I was coming to see from my interactions with Linford, the Virgo bond was more than just a collective link like the troupe bond. Each individual connection blossomed in its own right. That’s why Linford had helped my abuela when Noa had cast her out, barely even checking on her in the years they were separated.
“Can one Virgo be claimed?”
Maybe he knew where my thoughts were taking me, because his eyes were sad as he shook his head. “No. All or nothing.”
“Do you regret not…?”
“Every day, and yet, our situation was different than yours. You’re not a product of your environment. Not yet. You weren’t tied into the Conclave and its wishes, aren’t in the AFata as she was. In truth, you’re free in a way that few witches are.”
Huh. Why didn’t I feel so free if that was what I was?
“Grandmother said you rejected her.” My brow puckered. “Did she lie about that too?”
His lips pursed. “It’s a partial lie. Noa rejected her. Darvich, his twin, rejected her as well for they both knew their duty to their line was more important to them than she could ever be. I didn’t. Gerard didn’t. But she had a mind of her own. She wanted to escape the Cuban Conclave and the Cuban AFata. Wanted to make a new life for herself and her daughter in the US.”
“What about that daughter? Have you ever visited my mom?”
“Of course,” he said simply, eyes sad as he traced them over me.
“Just like we’ve met?”
He sighed. “Indeed.”
I bit my bottom lip as I contemplated his words, and then whispered, “One last question before I pass out.” It had been a very, very long day, and the prospect of being without my Virgo for however a long a flight from Georgia to Hawaii was, made me want to crumple into a ball.
Sol, pathetic, I knew, but it was the truth nonetheless.
I didn’t particularly want to talk to them. Didn’t want to discuss what I’d learned today or screw them silly, mostly, I just wanted them there. Their presence. It felt solid. In a world where everything was faint and shaky, where nothing seemed real, and lies and half-truths were at the base of everything I’d ever known, they weren’t like that.
They were grounding, real, and I needed that more than I needed anything else right now. In a universe of lies, they were the only truth, and they gleamed and glittered in my orbit like the stars twinkling in the night sky.
“Of course, child. You must be exhausted. It’s been a trying day for both of us.” He glanced at the sky. “It’s twilight anyway. Night is falling.” His gaze drifted from me to the window where the ocean roared in the near distance, the colors shifting as dusk approached. “What’s your question?”
I sucked in a breath. Here goes nothing… “How do I claim my Virgo?”
4
Seph
The plane journey was a nightmare.
I felt like my skin was crawling every second I was locked up inside the metal tube. I’d flown before, so this wasn’t my first time, and yet, my previous experiences had been nothing like this.
Before, I’d been quite comfortable. My father had owned a private jet at one time before he’d taken semi-retirement from whatever it was he’d begun doing once his troupe had to retire from action—I only knew it was something to do with the Assembly—and that had been just as comfortable as the First Class flight we were currently enjoying on the journey from Atlanta to Honolulu.
The service was excellent, the quality of the food bar none, and I’d even go so far as to say that I was comfortable inside my little pod.
But I was also miserable.
Bone deep miserable.
That weird, tight sensation in my skin made me feel like I wanted to explode. Or implode. I couldn’t decide which yet, and the plane was only exacerbating the sensation.
Even though most human facilities were constructed with Fae comfort in mind as well, on a plane? There was no room for luxuries with space. That meant my wings were contained, but again, it wasn’t the first time I’d had to fly with my wings unexposed…
So why I felt like I wanted to burst from my skin, I didn’t know. Was I relieved that the others were just as fidgety? Sol, yes. Daniel was particularly antsy, which was unsurprising considering how hard the bond was hitting him, and even Matthew, cold and logical though he was, was shifting around in his pod as though someone had dosed his pants with itching powder.
As I stared at the tiny dot on the screen that showed me how far away I was from Riel, the knot inside me unfurled when I saw only two hours separated us. From the live location she’d sent our way, I knew we had a forty-minute flight from the airport to her grandfather’s place, but that would be bearable—at least I’d feel like we were getting somewhere. Doing something proactive to reach her.
Sitting here, doing nothing but eating the canapes we were being force-fed, didn’t make me feel better. I’d have starved if it would have done me any good, but with our metabolisms how they were, I’d have just fallen out of the sky on my journey to her—that was the last thing I wanted. Not after that long flight to Landgow. We needed the sustenance, even if the expensive food was making my stomach churn even harder with nausea.
Tipping my head back against the headrest, I stared at the bobbing dot once more, wishing it would go faster. But wishes didn’t work, and magic wouldn’t make the plane move faster.
Lifting my arm, I stared at the house band that adorned my wrist. The gold was dull, ungleaming as I hadn’t used my magic in a while. Lifting it, I saw the etchings that represented so much to my people, ones that, until recently, had meant so much to me too.
All my life had been geared toward my reaching the Academy, taking on the prowess of the vil der Luir heritage, and making it proud. Riel came along like a bowling ball, endangering each and every pin that represented a value which had meant the world to me. In a ‘Strike!’ that no one could have foreseen, she tore through them all, ripped them asunder, and gave birth to a new world order for me.
Accepting that, even as early as yesterday, would have been hard to swallow. Now? After the last frantic fifteen hours? It was easier than downing a bottle of beer.
Sighing, I rubbed my fingers along the markings. The Luir was old Fae for platinum, and on the other, there was the symbol for a gem-worker, for that had been our family’s gift from Gaia, the creator, back in the earliest days of our culture. One square was bisected with another square, and in the center, was an octagon with a smaller one inside, each angular point connecting the two together to form a ruggedly cut, heavily faceted diamond.
We’d long since ceased working with precious metals and gems, but that was how we’d come up with the money for Landgow, one of the few family estates that was tangible and not forged from illusion.
Of course, Landgow was beautiful, and it was my ancestral home, even if it was not my haven. It was bittersweet that my father, to protect the property, had foregone everything that I was choosing to align myself with.
I’d always felt as though we’d been on opposing sides, and now? I had my confirmation of that.
He’d rejected Riel’s grandmother to protect Landgow, whereas I… well, by coming here? By being on this flight? I knew I was tossing duty to the wind, and from the way my father had shook his head, his mouth firming with disapproval as we’d parted, I knew he registered that too.
The Virgo bond was my haven of choice, not the cold and drafty walls of Landgow.
I knew who’d gotten the better deal here, and it wasn’t my father. Pride and obligation were cold bedfellows, and my bed would never be cold ever again.
Faeling Hard: An Eight Wings Academy Novel: Book Two Page 7