The Complete Chosen Trilogy (The Chosen #0)

by N. M. Santoski

  “All packed,” he said as they turned back to the warmth of the house. “Are you ready?”

  “I need to get the Sword back. We are all suffering. Our only saving grace is that if we’re having trouble controlling our numina, so is everyone else. We’re still on a level playing field.”

  “I wish I was going with you,” Pyrrhus confessed in an undertone as he opened the door.

  “I know—but I need you to watch Gia for me.”

  “She can watch herself.”

  “I know that, too. We all have our parts to play, and it’s so important that you play this one right, Pyrrhus. I’m counting on you.”

  “My liege,” Pyrrhus smirked.

  Nolan shoved him into the doorframe as they passed through. Pyrrhus looked as if he wanted to retort, but resisted the temptation as they stepped into the kitchen, where Gia was waiting with Jenkins.

  Nolan’s uncle handed them each a mug of jet-black coffee, which they drained. Nolan fought back a grimace, but not well enough—Pyrrhus smirked at him from across the room and pointedly took a second mug. They sat in silence for almost five minutes before Jenkins decided to speak.

  “If you don’t leave soon, you won’t make it to Conleth with enough time.”

  Gia sighed and shoved her mug back onto the counter. “We should go.”

  They trooped back out into the cold as a group, standing in the snow next to the car as they exchanged their goodbyes. Nolan took Gia into his arms and tucked her head under his chin, letting her arms slip under his coat and around his back, clutching his shirt.

  “Be safe,” she whispered into his chest.

  “You, too. We’ll see you right after midnight.”

  “Don’t do anything stupid.”

  She felt his chuckle rumble through his chest. “I love you,” he said, dropping a kiss onto her hair. She tilted her head up and caught his lips with hers.

  “I’m sick of giving you good-bye kisses,” she grumbled.

  “Last one,” he promised.

  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Nolan.”

  She pulled away a bit, her face starting to contort. He reached to pull her back before thinking better of it.

  “I’m keeping this one. I mean it—after this, we go together. Deal?”

  He offered her his hand.

  She took it.

  “Do you want my debt marker?”

  She snorted and pulled on his hand, grabbing him in a final fierce hug. “I love you. I think I’m able to take your word for it, Lord Fulmen.”

  He shuddered in her arms, and she pulled back, concerned. “No one’s called me that yet,” he tried to explain.

  Though Pyrrhus and Jenkins were attempting to give the young couple their privacy, what Gia did next caught their attention fully. Taking three steps back from him, she quickly unbuttoned her coat, slipping it from her shoulders and dropping it to the ground in her haste.

  “Gia, what are you—“

  Her wings burst from her in an explosion of fluff and fluids—opened to their full impressive expanse. As the wind whipped up, she fell to her knees in the snow.

  “Lord Fulmen, I pledge the future of the Zephyra to your service.”

  “Gia, please!” He was terribly embarrassed to see his girlfriend kneeling in homage. “Pyrrhus, can you—“

  His words died on his lips as he turned to see Pyrrhus right behind him. He, too, fell to his knees.

  “Lord Fulmen, I pledge the future of the Ignis to your service.”

  “Pyrrhus, damn it—! Uncle Robert…”

  “Don’t look at me, I can’t pledge you a whole Court… but I can offer you my service, my Lord, until my death.” He attempted to kneel, but Nolan wouldn’t allow it. He sprang forward and grabbed his elbow.

  “Not with your leg, Uncle. Get up, you two—I accept, or whatever I’m supposed to say!”

  They didn’t move. “It needs to be official,” Pyrrhus said with a smirk.

  His uncle began to hiss in his ear, and he dutifully repeated his words. “Lord Younger Ignis, the Fulmen will not forget this day. We accept your pledge. Rise.”

  He turned to Gia, her head still bowed in the pre-dawn gloom. Instead of repeating the words to the top of her head, he knelt down in front of her and cupped her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him. “Lady Younger Zephyra, the Fulmen will not forget this day. We accept your pledge. Rise.”

  He rose with her. “Never kneel to me again,” he whispered, and kissed her on the nose.

  She smiled. “It had to be done.”

  “She’s right. Still, though—you had to bring out the wings, Gia? Won’t you be sore now for tonight?”

  “Might be,” she said with a shrug. “It was important that we do it right, though.”

  “Well, put them away,” Pyrrhus said. “We have to get going.”

  The pair climbed into the car and sat for a moment in the artificial warmth, staring out the windshield at Nolan and Jenkins, illuminated only by the car’s headlights.

  “I can’t do it.”

  Startled, Gia turned her head. “Can’t do what?”

  “I can’t leave him here and go pretend that everything’s okay. We should be fighting by his side.” As he reached to turn the ignition off, Gia slapped his hand so sharply that he cried out.

  “We can’t,” she said sternly, though her own eyes were filled with tears. “We have a job to do—to help him. We’ll see him before the end of the night.”

  When Pyrrhus still didn’t shift into reverse, Gia did it for him. “Go.”

  They went.

  As the car backed down the driveway, Jenkins put an arm around his nephew’s shoulders. “Let’s go inside—I’ll make us a real breakfast. We’ll need the strength later, and I know better than to think that you’ll get any more sleep.”

  Nolan simply nodded, unable to trust his voice.

  ***

  “Welcome home, my son,” Azar said, embracing Pyrrhus and kissing him on the cheek ceremoniously. “How were your travels?”

  “Educational,” Pyrrhus said, managing to keep a straight face.

  “Lady Younger Zephyra, you honor us with your presence. Yet to tire of my son, I see?”

  Gia dipped her head. “Lord Ignis, your son is a captivating companion.”

  “Will you be travelling with us to Grappenhall?”

  “Yes, I thought I would reunite with my family there.”

  “You will be our honored guest. There are refreshments in the front room, if you’d like to relax—Pyrrhus, if I could see you alone for a moment?”

  “Of course, Father.” He took Gia’s hand and kissed it. “I’ll be back. Feel free to pick a book from the front room to read while you wait.”

  He followed his father to his office, where Azar wasted no time. “What kind of a game do you think you’re playing, Pyrrhus?”

  “I don’t—“

  “Cut the shit, son.”

  “I’m working for the future. Can you say the same?”

  Azar slammed his hand down on the desk. “By the gods, you test my patience! You are my only heir, and you’re trying to get yourself killed?”

  “I’m playing the game you taught me at your knee. I thought you’d be proud.”

  “Pyrrhus, this is not a game. Supporting Nolan Aeron is suicidal at the moment.”

  “When Nolan takes his rightful place on the Council, I will be beside him. I’m backing the right horse, Father. If you were smart, you’d abandon Warrington. He’s clearly losing his touch.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “No such thing as a sure thing, but I spent over a year with him. He’s what we need. I do know that.”

  The two Ignis men stood nose to nose for a moment, each refusing to yield.

  “I wish your mother was here. She’d make you see sense.”

  “Oh, yes, I’m sure she’d want me to lead her cousin to his death.” The corner of his mouth quirked as his father flinched. “Oh, you thought
I didn’t know? Grandmother does still speak to me, and sometimes she forgets what I should and shouldn’t know.”

  “Pyrrhus…”

  “Nolan is family—both by blood and by choice. I’m standing by him. If you choose to back Warrington, I just hope you survive it—I may be able to convince Nolan to spare you when it’s all over. I don’t wish to be an orphan quite yet.”

  “Civil war is all he brings with him.”

  “This isn’t his choice—this is the burden we’ve been given, and we will shoulder it.”

  “And what about that girl in the front room? You two put her in danger, as well.”

  That struck home, but Pyrrhus fought to mask it. “Gia knows exactly what she’s doing.”

  “If I had any sense at all I’d turn the three of you in right now.”

  “Go ahead.”

  Azar sighed. “Get out. I obviously can’t stop you, but I won’t help you, either.”

  Pyrrhus paused at the door, but didn’t turn around. “I never asked for your help.”

  ***

  It was unseasonably warm at Beachhead on this final day of the year, Alan thought as they stepped out of the car and back home once again. Leiani looked as though she was ready to drop to her knees and kiss the ground, she was so happy to be on her mother’s land again.

  The Lady herself was coming toward them with a bright smile and a light step, her arms open to receive them. She decided to forgo tradition in her happiness and instead greeted them as a mother should.

  “Leiani, my daughter, welcome home.” They embraced and spoke quietly as Alan stood nearby, his head bowed. Her light touch on his cheek roused him.

  “Alan, my son, welcome home.”

  Her arms did not come around him in exactly the same way—he towered above her now, as all Aeron men were taller than average—but it was enough of an echo of his childhood that tears threatened. Leiani was watching them closely, but she couldn’t know that Alan much preferred her mother to his own in this moment.

  “Mother Keo, I am returned to you,” he said formally, but his arms tightened around her for a moment in desperation. She reached up and patted the back of his head gently.

  “Peace, my son. Let our Court strengthen you for the trials to come.”

  She let him go and slipped away, looping her arm through her daughter’s. “Mara has been anxious to see you both—let’s not keep her waiting any longer.”

  “She’s returned?” Alan blurted out, too emotionally off-balance to guard his tongue. “Has she given up the search?” He wasn’t sure if Pyrrhus had told his mother of Nolan’s location.

  “That is a question for your mother—and to be discussed in private, I think.” The chastisement was subtle, but there. Alan swallowed and dropped back a step to follow his women into the foyer.

  His mother was waiting at the foot of the stairs, wearing a black silk dress, as she almost always did at Court. Officially, she would always be in mourning for his father—a sad fate for a woman only in her early twenties when she became a widow, but one Mara did not seem to mind. Her sons were her life, now.

  She looked healthier than she had when he’d last seen her. She had clearly eaten and slept, and her smile was genuinely pleased as she welcomed him home.

  “My Lady Mother,” he said, dropping to his knees before her. She placed her hand on the top of his head and blessed him. He stared at the tip of her boot peeking out from under the hem of her dress and bit back the questions he was longing to ask.

  “Let’s head to my rooms—I’m sure our newlyweds have much to tell us!” Lady Keopelani said loudly enough for any lingering courtiers to overhear, and Alan got to his feet and offered his arm to his wife.

  “How was California?” Mara asked as soon as the door closed behind them. “You’re so tan, Alan!”

  “California was a success, Mother.”

  She pursed her lips. “That’s all you have to say?”

  He couldn’t resist. “And your trip? Was it as informational as you hoped?”

  “We found the answers we sought,” she said carefully.

  “Are you attending the party tonight?”

  “I don’t think so,” she said with a shrug. This was clearly a surprise to Keopelani, but she said nothing.

  “You’ve attended in the past as part of the Court.”

  “Ah, but now you are of age and sufficient status to go in my stead, my darling. I cannot bear the thought of dancing the dance of social nicety tonight. I will ring in the New Year here with a glass of champagne and a good book.”

  “Are you sure I’ll be the only son of yours present tonight?”

  The three women gaped at him. “Alan, surely you can’t be suggesting that Nolan will show his face in Michael’s own home?” Keopelani gasped. “It would be suicide.”

  “If anyone is stupid enough to do it, it would be him.” While they were still speechless, he rose to his feet. “If you ladies will excuse me, I must go shower and dress. If we’re to make it to Grappenhall on time, I’ll need to be quick. Leiani, perhaps you should do the same.” Without another word, he disappeared from the room.

  ***

  Michael adjusted the collar of his shirt with the tip of a finger, pulling it down and making it snug. Pleased with his reflection at last, he turned to face Alixandra.

  “What do you think?”

  “You look wonderful,” she said, kissing his cheek.

  “And as usual, my dear, you are beautiful beyond words. Do me a favor?”

  “Yes?”

  “Will you send Rebecca in?”

  She paused, her face suddenly cold. “Of course.”

  As she turned to go, he caught her by the wrist. “Alix, I have to make sure the Sword is secure. The trap is set—I know they will attempt to steal it tonight. I can feel it.”

  “I understand.”

  “Do you?”

  “Yes.” She glared at him until he released her and then stalked from the room.

  A small knock on the door a few minutes later made him turn, his face set. “Enter.”

  “Father.”

  “Manas!” He embraced his son, then stepped back to admire him in his suit. “You look good, son. How was your trip?”

  “Ultimately unsuccessful, though we did run into Pyrrhus and Gia in Washington.”

  “You did? Together?”

  “Yes—I think they’re trying to give the impression that there’s a possibility of an alliance.”

  Michael sat down and gave his son a long look. “You think it’s a lie?”

  “I know it is.”

  “How?”

  “Gia didn’t look like a girl on a jaunt with her lover, that’s for sure. She’s lost weight; she looks like she hasn’t slept a wink since June.”

  “You think she’s invested in Aeron.”

  “If I had to bet my life on it, that’s what I would say.”

  “Do you think Arias is against us?”

  “No.”

  “Do you think Pyrrhus is? Or Azar?”

  “I don’t think either Lord Ignis or Lord Zephyrus are involved with Aeron. Pyrrhus…” he hesitated.

  “Go on.”

  “Pyrrhus has been my friend since we were children. I don’t want to believe that he would betray us, but his time with Gia seems to say otherwise.”

  “Will you be soft on Pyrrhus?”

  “Not if it comes to it, no. I just…don’t want to condemn him without proof.”

  “Watch him for me, Manas. I will count on you to do the right thing.”

  A second knock on the door brought them both to their feet. “Go see Isabella—tonight is a big night for you both. See if you can get anything out of Alan or Leiani during the party.”

  Manas nodded and slipped from the room as he let Rebecca in. “Captain Selocrim,” he said with a nod as he passed her.

  “Lord Younger Artifex, nice to see you again.” Once the door was closed, she bowed to Michael. “My Lord.”

  “C
aptain, you look lovely.” And so she did. “Are you still effective?”

  She took a wide stance, showing him that her “dress” was actually a pair of incredibly wide legged pants. “My bracelets help me channel my numina,” she said, jingling her wrists.

  “Feeling outgunned?”

  “Not in the least,” she snarled. “Aeron isn’t stronger than me.”

  “Au contraire, my dear Rebecca. The Aerons are the strongest Fulmen in existence—they descend in a direct line from Gaius Aeronius himself. You can’t hold a candle to the boy—your tainted blood has made sure of that.”

  Seeing she was about to lose her temper, he held up a finger. “However. You have years of experience and training over our young Swordsmith. Nolan Aeron is a hot-blooded boy. I have every confidence in your ability to keep your cool.”

  She let out a frustrated breath and nodded.

  “Excellent. Now, you have the Sword hidden?”

  “Yes.”

  “And the decoy?”

  “Also in place.”

  Michael smiled and put his hands on Rebecca’s shoulders, squeezing lightly. “Excellent. We will attend the party, allowing those present to see that we are there, sans the Sword of the Nine, and let the chips fall where they may. If we are lucky, we will have a little Swordsmith in our net by dawn.”

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Alan snuck a glance across at his wife as their Town car pulled up in front of Michael Warrington’s opulent Greenwich home. She’d been paler than usual and quiet ever since they boarded the plane to return to the East Coast. Kale was a shadow between them, and Nolan an even older one.

  “Are you alright?” he asked quietly, startling her from whatever thoughts she was having.

  She turned her head, the lights outside the car illuminating the side of her face and the sharpness of her high cheekbone. He wondered for a moment if there was a significant Asian or Polynesian presence in her ancestry, despite her pearlescent skin.