Fated, A Timeless Series Novella (A Timeless Series Companion Novel)

by Wiedmeier, Lisa L

  She might if she didn’t know its significance, Callon countered. Besides, you’ve already told me she wears a ring. I need to get a closer look at that, at least.

  And how will you do that? I asked. Just walk up and ask her? Colt tried that and she got all defensive about it.

  She won’t know I’m looking, Callon said. I’m going to wait until she’s asleep.

  Colt stood up, the muscles in his arms tensing. He didn’t like this at all.

  Why is it so important for you to know right now? His eyes flared. Can’t you wait a little? She’s finally starting to accept me as her friend. I’m sure I could get a good look at her ring for you…

  I can’t wait, Callon said. Marcus has sent Ghosters to this area, and I have to know Cheyenne’s true heritage before they find her.

  Both Colt and I exchanged a horrified glance.

  No… Colt shook his head. That can’t be true! He’s not sent them for years!

  I’m afraid it is, Callon said. His face had become ashen. Now do you see? I don’t want to do this, but if Cheyenne is who we think she might be, she can’t stay here in Idaho. I’m guessing Marcus sent the Ghosters to investigate because we’ve killed several Tresez nearby. He leant against the wall, cursing. I should’ve realized he would’ve known something was up once his foot-soldiers didn’t return with news.

  But what are we going to do? I asked. Convince her that she’ll have to move again? She’s only been here a few years, the longest in one town—ever…

  We’ll have to, Callon said. The only place she’ll be safe enough is the O’Shea manor.

  I raised an eyebrow.

  You’ll take her back to Ireland?

  Callon shrugged.

  It’s the safest place, Marcus can’t break the enchantments there. Though it’ll be difficult to convince Cheyenne when she’s still got three years before she’ll transform.

  Colt stepped forward.

  You really are being serious, he said. I had to agree; Callon had made a vow never to go home again after Dad died. If he was prepared to break that promise, then he was really really worried.

  Wait a minute, I said. You seem pretty convinced Cheyenne is Kvech. Wouldn’t that mean…you know?

  I’m not going to think about that right now, Callon replied curtly. Our first priority is to find out what we can and keep the Ghosters off the scent.

  Colt reached for his coat.

  I think we should go check on her together, in case we run into trouble, he said.

  Callon shook his head.

  No, we’ll attract too much attention if we all go. And if the Ghosters learn of her location, it’ll take one look in a mirror and she’ll be lost to us forever.

  I crossed over and stood by the front door, folding my arms.

  So how do you plan to get into her bedroom? I challenged. I’m pretty sure knocking on her door won’t get you too far. And breaking her window is going to be a little noisy.

  Callon sighed.

  I have a plan for that.

  When he didn’t elaborate, Colt snarled.

  I can’t believe you, Callon! You weren’t thinking of altering her memory, were you? He clenched his fist.

  I’d have no other choice, Callon answered. And I have to see the proof with my own eyes. There’s no point getting you all dragged into this.

  Colt gritted his teeth, so I quickly stepped between them.

  Wait Callon, why don’t you just let me jump you in? I asked. We’d be out of there before Cheyenne would even realize someone was in her room. And if the Ghosters turned up, we could track them down. That’ll make them think twice about approaching her again.

  A tense silence followed. Callon was thinking things over. Colt looked ready to punch something. It was kinda weird. I’d never seen Colt act like this before.

  At last, Callon nodded.

  Alright, fine. It might make it easier for the Tresez to smell us, but I don’t want Cheyenne to come to any harm.

  Colt stiffened—I could tell he wanted to come, too. Eventually though he relaxed and bowed his head.

  Okay, I’ll leave it to you guys. Just take care of her, yeah?

  Callon walked towards him and gripped his shoulder.

  I promise.

  The rain lashed down in thick sheets as we headed over to the Wilson’s house. I’d convinced Callon not to take the motorcycle, as it would leave an obvious trail. The Tresez would smell the gas fumes and come chasing after us. Instead I jumped us through the forest, avoiding the trail, and taking cover between the trees and shrubs. The cloud cover helped, as it was too dark to see properly and the cold and wind kept our scent hidden for the most part.

  A black cat scrambled past as we re-appeared behind Cheyenne’s jeep. My foot caught the end of its tail, so when I jumped again onto the Wilson’s lawn, Callon and I crashed into the grass.

  Nice landing, Callon said, helping me up. Which one is her room?

  Wiping the mud from my cheek, I pointed to the upper left window.

  She’ll still be awake now, I said. She usually goes to bed around ten.

  Right, Callon said.

  We made our way to the side of the house. I checked my watch. It was only six-thirty. We had a long wait on our hands.

  We should wait around the back, I said. Less likely we’ll be spotted there.

  Sure.

  I led Callon towards the tree-cover. There, we sat under the dripping branches, protected from the wind by a series of bushes and shrubs. I leant against a trunk, adjusting my hood to keep out the cold.

  What’s her room like? Callon asked, resting his hands on the damp ground. His jacket didn’t have a hood, but he seemed quite content to sit there and get drenched.

  I picked up a stick and began to doodle in the mud.

  This is the door to the landing, I said, sketching it out, and her desk is here. She’s got a bookshelf here and here, and her bed is on this side. Between that is her wardrobe, and she’s got a small dresser, too.

  Okay, Callon said. We won’t have long to look around, but I’d guess her wardrobe or her dresser would be where she keeps her jewelry. You can search there while I try and get a look at the ring she wears.

  My face flushed.

  I-I can’t do that! The thought of going through Cheyenne’s clothes made my skin crawl. I can’t go through a girl’s stuff!

  Callon rolled his eyes.

  Oh, man up, he said. You’re not supposed to be inventorying her possessions. Just find a jewelry box or something.

  I managed a weak nod. This was going to be so humiliating! I wasn’t some common thief out for a quick buck. Oh Cheyenne, I hope you’ll forgive us if you ever find out.

  As the evening became night, the rain stopped. The clouds started to drift, and eventually a sliver of moonlight poked through. By now I’d stopped looking at my watch, as every time I did only a few minutes passed. Callon was patient, not making an effort for conversation. I could tell he was bothered, though, because he kept fiddling with his clan ring.

  Callon, I started tentatively. About what I said before…

  I know, Callon answered. It will change everything.

  I sighed.

  I wasn’t trying to hurt you, I said. I know how much she means to you. I was just…

  Please don’t talk about her now, Callon interrupted. His face was hard. I’ll have to make that choice when the time comes. Either way, I have to do what’s best for the clans. My own feelings don’t come into it.

  My gaze softened. As much as I’d grown attached to Cheyenne, I fervently prayed that Callon’s hunch was wrong, that she wasn’t Kvech, just an ordinary Timeless. It had taken Callon so long to recover from Dad’s death, and I didn’t know how he’d handle being forced to leave the one who helped him through his grief. I never, ever wanted to go back to those days, where he’d not sleep or eat, and just stare out of the library window in the estate.

  Callon abruptly stood up, dusting his knees.

  It’s h
alf ten now. Let’s see if she’s asleep.

  We wandered back to the side of the house. Cheyenne’s curtains were drawn, and the light was out.

  No guarantee she’s asleep yet, I said.

  I’ll know, Callon answered. Can you get me closer to her window?

  Nodding, I grabbed his arm and jumped us into the tall pine. Callon crouched on the branch, and closed his eyes. For a long while there was nothing but the faint cry of the wind, and I swallowed, alert for movement.

  Finally, Callon opened his eyes.

  She’s asleep. Jump us into her room.

  I let out a long breath. I didn’t quite know how Callon did it, but this wasn’t the time to question him. Jumping into a specific area without overshooting would take some concentration. I didn’t want to knock anything over and wake her up.

  Alright, give me a sec. I closed my eyes, picturing the room I’d spent so many hours watching. I visualized the desk, the laptop, the bed, the bookshelves full of story books, her bedside table with her lamp and water glass, the poster of some pop star I didn’t recognize, and the patch of floor between the door and her bed. That was my target.

  Here we go.

  Grabbing onto Callon’s shoulder, I jumped into the room.

  It was a shock to go from the icy cold to the pleasant warmth, and I almost stumbled. Fortunately my aim was spot on, and we appeared on the clear patch of floor. Soft breathing came from the bed—Cheyenne was buried under the comforter, pretty much invisible. Callon checked the bedside table, but aside from her hair clips and water glass, there was no sign of her ring. She must really wear it everywhere.

  Check the drawers, Callon said. Hopefully she’ll move and I can get a look at her hand.

  My heart sank. So much for trying to avoid the inevitable. I swallowed back the horrible wrenching feeling in my stomach, then crept to the dresser. I was in luck; a small jewelry box was sitting on it. Phew, I wouldn’t have to look through her clothes. I reached for the catch, slipping it gently open, and lifted the lid.

  A soft tinkling sound escaped, and I snapped it shut instantly. Heart in my throat, I looked to Cheyenne. Her breathing went on, undisturbed.

  What the hell are you doing? Though Callon was standing so very still, I could feel his eyes on me.

  I didn’t mean it, I said. It’s a musical jewelry box.

  Take it outside and check it, Callon said. Come back when you’re done.

  Carefully, I memorized the position of the box, then lifted it up. Seconds later I was outside in the freezing air, my breath rising in damp vapors. My hands were shaking. Come on, get a grip Daniel!

  I opened the box again, this time letting the melody play. It was soft and sweet. However, the box was pretty empty, and there were definitely no rings in it. Though this wasn’t quite exact proof, my heart filled with relief. Cheyenne had enough going on without dealing with being the lost clan’s heir. She didn’t need to be dragged into our war with Marcus.

  And she didn’t need to be forced into a betrothal with…

  Daniel! Callon’s voice rang in my head. Where are you?

  Sorry! I quickly jumped to the tree, and after a brief pause jumped into Cheyenne’s bedroom. There’s nothing in the box, it’s empty.

  That’s fine, Callon said. We can leave now.

  Did you get a look at her ring?

  Callon hesitated.

  Not really, and I don’t want to disturb her, he said. I’ll ask Colt if he can get a better look later.

  I frowned, putting the jewelry box back on the dresser. He wasn’t telling the whole truth.

  Callon?

  Daniel, let’s just go home.

  Knowing he wasn’t in a mood to share, I took his arm and jumped us back outside. He said nothing more as we headed home, holding a guarded expression. He was better at opening up to us than before, and I knew he’d eventually spill his heart, but his evasiveness made me uncomfortable.

  He’d found out something, alright.

  I sighed, curling up on the sitting room couch. It was a month or so after the night we spied on Cheyenne. Callon still hadn’t spoken about the incident, and it was driving me, and Colt insane. Every time we asked about the ring, he’d shrug it off with some excuse. In an effort to dig some answers, Colt had managed to see Cheyenne’s ring a few times at school, but he didn’t think it looked like a clan ring. It was definitely precious to her, though, and she’d had it for a long time, which made things difficult to interpret.

  But why wouldn’t Callon talk to us?

  On top of that, we’d had a few close calls. About a week and a half ago, three Tresez had appeared on the Wilson’s doorstep, and I’d had to call Colt for help. He’d managed to slay them all and hide their bodies in the forest, but it left me very nervous. I’d only spotted them just in time. And though my scars from their bites had healed, it served as a brutal reminder of the fate that might have awaited Cheyenne.

  About the only good thing was the lack of movement from the Ghosters. They’d come from Marcus’s stronghold in Canada, but we hadn’t heard any reports they’d reached this part of Idaho yet. They were deadly assassins, able to transmit parts of their soul as speckles of light, called soul-shards. If a human looked at them, even for an instant, they’d be frozen into a trance. A piece of their own soul would be taken, and their physical body would run after it, right into the Ghoster’s hold. It was the easiest way to capture and kill Timeless children before they transformed, as Timeless were much more resistant to their effects. Cheyenne would only have to catch the reflection of their soul-shards, and we’d be powerless to help her.

  I looked to the clock on the mantle-piece. It was late. Colt and I were watching television, though neither of us really paid attention to the program. Earlier when I’d been spying on Cheyenne, nothing had happened, and I hadn’t picked up on anything unusual on the way home, either. I’d even snuck in another hot chocolate from Alexis, though this time I remembered to take my coat with me. Callon had gone out about an hour ago to pick up a secure package, but had yet to return.

  Colt yawned, breaking the silence.

  “Any luck with Callon?” he asked, stretching.

  I shook my head.

  “No, he still won’t talk about it.”

  Colt grumbled.

  “I hate it when he’s like this,” he said. “Why does he feel he has to shoulder everything alone? We’re family!”

  “You know Callon,” I answered, sipping my soda. “He’s just worried about protecting Cheyenne.”

  “Aren’t we all?” Colt shot back. “If he really believes she’s Kvech, then we need to start making plans to move out. Tresez we can deal with, but once the Ghosters get here, we’ll be stuck. And if they capture Cheyenne, we can’t do anything.” He punched the cushion on the sofa. “Callon needs to tell us exactly what he’s planning, or we’ll just…”

  The front door opened, cutting him off. Callon walked in, looking tired and carrying a package wrapped in brown paper. His boots were wet—it must be raining again.

  “Well?” Colt hurried to his side. “Did he meet you like he said?”

  Callon nodded. He discarded his sodden jacket and walked into the sitting room. He dumped his package on the coffee table. A couple of books slipped out, bound in old leather.

  “Sorry I’m late. I asked Dex to send me these last week,” Callon said. “I thought I’d quickly go through them before I came home.”

  “I take it you still haven’t come up with an answer to Cheyenne’s heritage, then?” Colt asked.

  “It’s not easy,” Callon said. He set the books on the table and sank into the oversized chair opposite the mantle-piece. “Every time I think I’ve found a clue, something else turns up.” He sighed. “She’s definitely Timeless, without a doubt, but since I can’t find any record of her birth parents or any Kvech relics, I can’t say for sure if she’s the lost heir.”

  “So what does this mean for us?” I asked.

  “It means we’
ll need to have a proper discussion with Gene and Alexis soon,” Callon said. “Cheyenne will turn eighteen next year, which is when they plan to tell her the truth. I’ve already approached them about moving to Ireland, and they’ve begged me to wait til her next birthday. So I’ve sent out some messages to the front lines for some help.”

  “Oh?” Colt sat up.

  “I’m asking them to go on Tresez hunts and make a big deal of it,” Callon said. “I need to pull Marcus’s eyes away from this area, and get him to spread his men out. The Ghosters haven’t made their move yet, but I know they’ve recently arrived in the state. We mustn’t draw any more attention to Cheyenne or the Wilson’s, at least not for the next year. I promised them that much.” He looked me square in the eye. “So Daniel, you’re not to watch Cheyenne any more. Colt will take over.”

  My mouth hung open.

  “What?!”

  “Daniel, you had a hard time with the Tresez, and Ghosters are trained to spot Timeless who can jump,” Callon said. “They’ll have eyes everywhere, and if they catch you, they’ll follow you to the Wilson’s house. I can’t risk that.”

  “No!” My fist clenched. First he’d banned me from becoming her friend, and now he was cutting me out of the picture entirely? “Callon, this isn’t fair!”

  “It’s not about fair,” Callon growled. “I’m trying to do what’s best for Cheyenne. If the others can shift Marcus’s attention elsewhere, the Ghosters will leave, and it’ll be easier to smuggle Cheyenne out of the country. You can meet her properly then.”

  I stormed to the door. I didn’t have to hear this.

  “Daniel, where are you going?”

  “You just think I’m too weak, don’t you?” I didn’t turn around, my hand on the door handle. “That I was too slow to deal with the Tresez and almost got Cheyenne hurt?”

  “Daniel, what’s gotten into you?” Callon asked. “This has nothing to do with that. Our focus needs to change. I need you to make arrangements in Ireland. I…”

  “So you are trying to push me into the background,” I scoffed. “Well forget it! Make the arrangements yourself!”

  “Daniel, wait!”

  I flipped the door open and jumped out. The air was moist, but I kept jumping, not caring where I was going or if the weather would turn. I just wanted to get away from the house. Bitter anger coursed through me, and I swallowed back the bile in my throat. How could Callon just change plans of all of sudden? We’d known about the Ghosters ages ago, and only today he’d decided I couldn’t match them? And now he wanted me to go back home and ‘make arrangements’?