She rubbed the spots he had indicated, trying to make sense of the new term. Fluidus? Is that my Ardere type? A wave of dizziness hit her. All of this was too much. Desperate to reclaim her composure, she reached for the cool pendant around her neck, drawing strength from the stone.
In a split second, the man’s hands clutched her shoulders hard. “How did you get this?”
Chapter 4
Sierra tried to shake off the man’s steel grip to no avail. “Let go of me. My Gran gave me the pendant.”
“Liar.” He gritted the word out.
Tendrils of fear attempted to trap Sierra. She shoved them down. “I’m looking for Gavin. Waldeburg sent me.”
Instantly, the man released Sierra. “Where is she?”
“Are you Gavin?”
“Yes. Where is she?”
“In the car. I couldn’t get her to wake up. We were attacked.”
Gavin sprinted to the front door, and Sierra hurried behind him. His taut shoulders relaxed visibly when he glanced at a still sleeping Gran. He put his hand against Gran’s forehead. “Waldeburg.”
Gran’s eyelashes fluttered open and shut several times. “Gavin. You haven’t changed much.”
Gavin let out a strangled noise and squeezed Gran’s hand. “I’ll take you to my place. Then we can have a proper look at your injury.” With an outstretched hand, he silently asked Sierra for the keys. He didn’t speak during the drive, but kept glancing at Gran, as if to check she was still breathing. They stopped in front of a high-rise, and Gavin walked to the other side of the car. He heaved a semi-conscious Gran into his arms, as if she weighed nothing.
“Will she be all right?” Sierra asked.
Gavin nodded, pushing number twenty, the top floor, on the elevator. He opened the apartment door and carried Gran inside, dismissing Sierra’s attempts to help. From his red aura and the speed and ease with which he carried Gran, Sierra knew he had to be a Dragoon, which meant he could probably fly, like her dad. Her dad who had kept this whole world secret from her.
Inside the apartment, her eyes widened. The living room was huge, sported floor-to-ceiling windows, and had a clean and minimalistic layout of brown, white, and gray surfaces. Stainless steel intermingled with dark wood. It was more than a home. It was a masterpiece and belonged in the pages of a glossy home catalogue.
Just like Veneficia, it was luxurious without any hint of stuffiness or pretentiousness one might expect from a typical penthouse. Relaxed, yet tidy. The glass coffee table was free of any knickknacks, and the kitchen island counters gleamed.
“It’s like an extension of your bar,” she murmured.
“I designed both,” Gavin said nonchalantly, fishing a first aid kit out of a drawer. He undid Gran’s makeshift bandage. “The wound is pretty deep. You’re lucky no major arteries were cut.” He cleaned her arm carefully, applied a see-through ointment, and bandaged it anew. Gran swallowed painkillers with a glass of water, and some of the color returned to her face.
“It’s so nice to see you again, Gavin. It’s been too long. Last time…” She looked into the distance.
“Three years ago. My high school graduation. I was eighteen.”
Sierra tried not to gape. Gavin was only twenty-one? Given his confident manner, and him being the marshal and owning a bar, she had judged him to be in his late twenties. To have achieved this much so early, he must really have a strong work ethic. And goals. She swallowed hard. A straight A student, she always failed to give a coherent answer to the “what do you want to be when you grow up” question. With her life changing so drastically, her career decision would have to wait. Sierra tuned back into Gavin and Gran’s conversation to hear the end of the summary of their road trip.
“I see.” Gavin began pacing the room, his hands tight at his sides. “A Fluidus will attract a lot of attention.”
From his tone, Sierra was certain he didn’t mean “attention” in a positive way.
“As the marshal of this community, it’s my duty to keep the city safe.” Gavin let out a low whistle. “How come you had a granddaughter this whole time and never mentioned her?”
“She never mentioned you either,” Sierra said, feeling petulant. She remembered now, how when she had been between the ages of eleven to fifteen, Dad’s work trips only lasted from Monday until Friday, and he was always home for the weekends, the time when Gran would leave. She had been tightlipped about where she was going, and finally Sierra had stopped asking. Is this what Gran had done, visit Gavin? He didn’t sound like he was from the South; his accent was Northeastern, so Sierra supposed it was possible. But why did Gran visit this stranger every weekend? Gavin’s low voice ripped Sierra out of her thoughts. “You were lucky there was only one customer at Veneficia and Gio erased his memory. What were you thinking storming in like that?” Gavin’s face hardened. “You could’ve exposed all of us.”
Sierra stared dumbly at Gavin. What was he talking about?
“It’s my fault,” Gran said. “Heath and I didn’t teach Sierra anything about the supernatural world or that she carried the Fluidus gene. We wanted to wait until she came of age, to ensure her powers actually manifested. We figured she'd be happier never knowing about supernaturals if her powers didn't manifest. Until yesterday, she didn’t show any signs. Then at the graduation, her golden aura and telekinesis manifested.”
So the diploma hadn’t been a fluke and Sierra could actually move things with her mind. The world spun, and she sank into the leather couch.
Gran patted her hand, and a wave of calmness washed over Sierra. “I know this is a lot to take in. I promise it’ll get better with time.”
Sierra wasn’t so sure. Unwilling to discuss her concerns in front of Gavin, she redirected the conversation to the mechanisms of this new world. “So, as a Fluidus, I have telekinesis. Gavin is fast, strong, and can fly as a Dragoon. What can you do as a Guardian? Are there more Ardere types?”
Gavin’s eyes narrowed. Gran hesitated before she said, “As a Guardian, I can imbue gems with spells. Some Guardians have premonitions of the near or far future, but not all. Just how not all Dragoons can fly. It requires training.” She took a sip of her water. “There are two more factions. Blurs can teleport by dissolving their body into air or water particles. Charmers can manipulate the mind.”
“Like Gio?”
Gavin snorted. “Gio is a Dragoon. His aura is red. Charmers have a purple aura and Blurs a blue one.”
“All supernaturals can amend the memory of humans and compel them. Only Charmers can manipulate the mind of other supernaturals,” Gran explained.
“Right. So, there are five Ardere species, and then there are Umbra,” Sierra summarized.
“Not quite.” Gavin exchanged a look with Gran.
Before Sierra could ask what was going on, footsteps sounded from outside. The handle moved down.
“They found us!” Gran rose to her feet, and Sierra followed. Her stomach contracted as Gran’s words replayed in her mind. We’re lucky an inexperienced Dragoon tracked us. What if this one was more advanced? Gran was already injured. She wouldn’t survive a second fight.
Red clouded Sierra’s vision. Electricity pulsated down her arms. The door opened. She glanced around, searching for weapons. A pen lay on the coffee table.
She focused on it until it levitated and darted through the air like an arrow.
The Umbra’s gray eyes widened, and he jerked his head at the last second. Instead of piercing his eye, the pen embedded into his temple. Blood welled up and dripped down. The Umbra cussed.
Sierra only realized she was screaming when Gavin stepped in front of her and shook her shoulders. “Calm down. No need to panic. Jeff is one of the good guys.”
The rush of adrenaline deserted her, and she sank into the couch behind her, limbs pliant like pudding. “He can’t be, he’s an Umbra,” she managed.
“Is she cuckoo?” the Umbra—Jeff—asked.
Gavin mumbled a reply Sierra didn’t
catch. She studied Jeff, noticing that besides the gray aura, which was dotted with purple, his appearance was a stark contrast from the black leather aficionado in the motel room. A trench coat hugged Jeff’s middle-aged body. He took off his Fedora hat to swipe away the blood, revealing greasy hair desperately in need of a wash.
“A Fluidus afraid of an Umbra. Interesting. What did your father do to you? Or was it your mother?” Jeff flashed a yellow smile long overdue for a tooth cleaning.
“I don’t understand,” Sierra replied slowly.
Jeff rubbed his three-day beard. “You’re a Fluidus, so one of your parents was an Umbra and—”
“No!” Sierra jumped to her feet, swiveling to Gran. “Why is he still here, lying to us?”
“He’s telling the truth. Half of your genes are Ardere, the other half are Umbra. Your mother was once Ardere, but after taking the life of a human, her genes mutated and turned her Umbra.”
Gran reached out, but Sierra jerked away from her touch. “Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”
“I didn’t want you to freak out. I knew Umbra would come after us and...” Gran sighed heavily. “Not all Umbra are evil. Some redeem themselves, while others are only Umbra because their parents were.”
“You lied to me!” Dizziness swirled through Sierra. Her heart was still beating too fast, and a coat of sweat covered her nape. Just when she thought she was coming to terms with what her life had turned into, her world was rocked again.
“Here.” Gavin handed her a glass of water.
She emptied it in a few gulps and plopped down on the couch. “My mother killed a human.”
Gran clasped her quivering hands together. “Aoife was only eighteen. She repented. She turned herself in and spent five years in a German prison. Soon after her release, she met Heath. That’s all I know. I never met Aoife. I was doing research in a remote region of Tibet. Heath didn’t tell me about his relationship and marriage. He only contacted me on the day Aoife gave birth to you and died.” Gran wiped at the tears that trickled down her cheeks. “Whenever I brought Aoife up, Heath refused to speak about her.”
Sierra’s stomach knotted. Bile rose in her throat. If she had eaten anything in the last few hours, she would’ve thrown up for certain. As it was, she just scooted to the edge of the couch, away from Gran.
Her whole life had been a lie. Everything. Sierra had believed the wound of not having her mother growing up was healed. How wrong she had been. And now her father was gone too and she would never find out who her mother had been, what kind of woman she had been. Sierra should’ve pushed her father harder. Because she hadn’t, she would forever pay the price of not knowing. Closure would never be hers.
Unable to take the concerned glances any longer, she rose. “I need to be alone.”
“There’s a guestroom.” Gavin pointed down the corridor. Without a word, Sierra hurried away. She banged the door shut, sank to the floor, and buried her face in her palms.
Chapter 5
After the showdown between Waldeburg and Sierra, Gavin was happy to use Jeff as an excuse to leave the battlefield and return to Veneficia.
“Sierra’s a real piece of work,” Jeff huffed.
“You would be too if you had just lost your father and were forced to leave your whole life behind,” Gavin replied.
A throaty chuckle came from Jeff. “When did you turn into a sentimental and understanding human being?”
Gavin looked pointedly away, not taking the bait.
“Why do you care about the girl, Gavin?”
“Like I said—”
“Don’t give me that crap. Lots of people have it hard, and you don’t give two cents about that. But a Fluidus shows up and suddenly you want to play knight in shining armor? What did you promise the girl and the Guardian? That they could stay?” Jeff’s unruly eyebrows were halfway up his wrinkly, age-spotted forehead.
“What if I did? It’s none of your business. I’m the marshal, not you.” Gavin caught himself balling his hands into fists. He rolled his neck, trying to calm down.
“Exactly. You’re the marshal, responsible for the safety of this town. Mark my words. This girl will bring trouble to Savannah. And then, when you’re waist high in quicksand, you’ll remember my warning.”
“Which is what? To send her away? Let Umbra find her and torture her into submission? Most Fluidus don’t survive the awakening. Their bodies are unable to contain the power. Umbra would do anything to get a hold of Sierra and use her to bring down the regency, to shove our society into anarchy where the strongest terrorize everyone else.”
Jeff scowled. “Savannah’s supernatural population is a handful. We shouldn’t be dealing with a Fluidus. She should be at the headquarters.”
“Waldeburg doesn’t trust the regency.” Gavin couldn’t blame her decision to raise Sierra in Vermont, far away from Connecticut. Clement Fielding wasn’t exactly famous for being sensitive. If Sierra went to the headquarters, she would be immediately trained and groomed to become a fighter. Her fate shouldn’t be set in stone just because she was a Fluidus. Everyone should have the right to choose what to do with their life.
Jeff sighed. “I don’t trust the regency completely either. Yet, I work with them.”
“This is different.”
“Why? Because it mirrors your nonconformist, maverick opinions?”
“That’s not what this is about.”
A few passersby shot them curious glances. Gavin tried to shove his indignation down, reminding himself of all the times Jeff had been right. In the three years they had worked together, Jeff’s hunches tended to be spot-on. But this was different.
Jeff didn’t understand. He didn’t know Gavin and Waldeburg’s history. She had been the only one to visit him at Dietrich Barrett High. The memory wormed its way into his mind.
Saturday morning, finished with breakfast, students rushed into the visitor’s area. Gavin glanced around, searching the dining room for Cooper, Pia, and Dominic, the three people who had made his first week bearable. They were gone, probably exchanging hugs with family.
Gavin returned to his empty dorm room. Not willing to wallow in self-pity, he took out his notebook and focused on his English homework. Might as well do something useful. A knock sounded on the door.
“Come in,” he called, not turning, expecting it to just be the maid.
“There you are! I searched everywhere!”
Like a dog, his head perked up at the familiar voice. “Waldeburg!” He flung himself into her open arms before remembering he was nearly fifteen. Heat spread through his cheeks, and he took a step back. “You came.”
“Of course! Why do you sound so surprised? I promised I would visit, didn’t I?”
She had, and Waldeburg always kept her promises. Not being related to her, Gavin had expected her to stop by twice a year. That day she surprised him. She continued to surprise him every single weekend for the next four years. Always on time, she brought presents and was never in a hurry to leave. She made him feel like he still had a family.
A blaring car horn tore Gavin out of his reverie. He turned to Jeff. “Waldeburg and Sierra are staying. They’re under my protection.”
Jeff didn’t reply, but his thin mouth became a sharp line.
“I assume there’s a reason why you came to my apartment,” Gavin continued.
Jeff nodded. “Yes, I totally forgot, what with almost losing my eye.”
Gavin suppressed a smile. Sierra attacking Jeff with a pen had been quite a sight.
“I saw a new Umbra. Close to the river. I wasn’t close enough to catch anything beyond the Umbra’s gray aura. There’s no need for concern yet. Thought I would mention it in case something happened and I got blamed.” Jeff clucked his tongue.
Gavin nodded. He didn’t reassure Jeff because that would be a lie. Ardere never fully trusted Umbra. Those that willingly served their prison sentence were considered second-class citizens for the rest of their lives. Spies like Jeff
risked their lives for the regency on a daily basis. They gained a bit of goodwill. Yet if a crime occurred, Jeff’s name would be at the top of the suspect list.
“It’s probably nothing. The Umbra is just passing by,” Gavin said.
“Yes, we’re just like gypsies or stray cats—dirty, without a home, and no one wants us.”
They reached Veneficia, absolving Gavin from replying to the self-deprecating remark. “I need to talk to Gio.”
“I’ll stay and have a beer.” Jeff took a booth in the corner.
Gio sat on one of the barstools, leaning forward. His tight neon shirt rode up, exposing an inch of tattooed back. To someone who didn’t know the Italian, the swirls and lines wouldn’t make sense. Gavin, however, knew them to be the tail of a dragon. Unlike most Ardere, Gio was into human tattoos.
Gavin snorted, remembering Sierra’s question whether Gio was a Charmer. Clearly, her experience with supernaturals was limited. Even without seeing Gio’s red aura, it was obvious he was a Dragoon from the way he carried himself and his appearance. All Dragoons were tall with significant muscle. Gio’s proclivity to drinking and his undercut hairstyle gave him the meathead look.
Gio threw his head back, roaring with laughter. “You think?” he asked Whitney, the bartender, in a thick Italian-New Jersey accent, which would make any reality show producer proud. Whitney batted her fake eyelashes and pushed her blonde extensions back and her full chest out. Gavin sighed. Flirting was not an issue, but if Gio planned on scoring, he better take his business elsewhere. Whitney was customer oriented, reliable, and oblivious to the supernaturals around her. Gavin couldn’t risk losing her.
“You’re back!” Gio’s brown eyes were slightly unfocused. “How did it go?”
“Fine.” Gavin gestured for Gio to follow him before he said anything important in front of Whitney.
In his office, Gavin’s eyes wandered to the liquor cabinet. A drink would be nice after everything. No, not yet. It would have to wait until the end of the day, when his duty was done.
Fluidus Rising: A YA Paranormal Novel: (The Ardere Series Book1) Page 3