Fluidus Rising: A YA Paranormal Novel: (The Ardere Series Book1)

by Margo Ryerkerk

  Gavin remained in the living room, gazing absentmindedly out the window. A sharp scream pierced the silence. He dashed after Jillian, wondering if she had experienced another vision. She stood motionless at the counter. His eyes went from the cutting board with the chopped pepper and bloody knife to Jillian’s injured palm.

  “Are you okay?” He grabbed a checkered towel and pressed it against her skin.

  “I’m fine.” Jillian took the cloth from him. A few scarlet drops escaped, marking the white tiles. They would disintegrate in less than a minute.

  The crimson liquid brought an idea to his mind. “Jillian, didn’t you say earlier a traumatic experience sent our mama’s boy on his killing spree?”

  “Mm-hmm.” She gritted through clenched teeth. Guardian’s self-healing abilities were slower than that of other Ardere factions, and their lack of injury experience made each nick as painful as if they were humans.

  “What if the traumatic experience had something to do with his mom?”

  Jillian’s eyebrows inched upward, and her lips formed an O shape. “Her death! It could’ve definitely triggered him.”

  A long shot, but the only breadcrumb they had at the moment. “I’ll call the homicide unit and request all of the obituaries from the last six months.”

  “What if her death is not recorded? Could we get the missing supernaturals file?”

  Reluctant, Gavin agreed. He would have to e-mail Cooper again, proving he needed the struck deal just as much as the Blur had. “Let’s start with the obituary.”

  Sierra practically ran into Veneficia. When she found Whitney behind the bar, it was an act of pure discipline not to hug her and check her over for injuries from the attack.

  “Did somebody have an exciting night?” Whitney cocked her head, and for a terrible second, Sierra considered that Whitney knew about the body and about Sierra finding it. Impossible. And even on the unlikely chance Whitney did, she wouldn’t be smiling.

  “No.” Sierra pushed her hair back. The dishwasher beeped, concluding its cycle, and she busied herself shelving the contents while surreptitiously checking Whitney’s hands and face for marks. She had none. Just like Jillian had promised, the killer didn’t have time to inflict any physical damage. “How are you feeling? Anything new with you?” Sierra was careful not to ask any questions that might trigger Whitney’s memory of being attacked. Gavin would have a fit if he knew Sierra was even talking to Whitney about it. As for Whitney, it must’ve been awful to live through the attack, but at least it meant she was safe now, right? Certainly, the perpetrator wouldn’t target her again.

  “Actually, there is something new.” Whitney batted her eyelashes. “I started seeing someone.”

  “Who?”

  Whitney tipped her head straight ahead, and Sierra followed her gaze to a table where Gio and Jeff sat. The two sipped on their beers, enthralled in conversation. “Gio’s so hot. I’ve never met anyone like him.” Whitney pushed her breasts out, making them appear even bigger than they were. Then her eyes narrowed. “I do wonder why he’s hanging out with this old creepy guy, though. Maybe it’s a relative visiting.”

  Sierra stared at Whitney. “You mean Jeff?”

  “Is that his name?” Whitney shrugged. “I’ve never seen him before.”

  “Jeff is here almost every day, and we ran into him the other day while shopping.”

  No reaction from Whitney, who grabbed a rag and began wiping down the tables. Unbelievable. Whitney memorized ingredients of a hundred-plus cocktails, but couldn’t remember Jeff? The guy wore a fedora and trench coat for crying out loud! How many guys did Whitney know who did that?

  “It’s weird how we fascinate and attract them, while they are so faceless and forgettable to humans, isn’t it? Make no mistake, both have definite advantages,” a male voice with a distinct twang, different from the Georgian accent, drawled.

  It sounded familiar, and when Sierra spun toward the newcomer, she realized why. Lake blue eyes. Cowboy hat atop brown hair. Western shirt on a broad chest. The Texan was Gavin’s friend, and she had met him on her date with Maxim. She studied his blue aura. It had a cascading quality to it like a waterfall.

  “Being Ardere in the human world is like being the most popular kid in school. Our colorful auras attract them like light attracts moths. But with all the admiration comes scrutiny. One false move and they’ll talk about your misstep forever. The Umbra, with their mostly gray auras, are invisible. The lack of attention has driven many insane.”

  “So, while humans can’t see our auras, they react to them subconsciously.” He nodded. “How come my aura is golden and not gray with golden specks?”

  He chortled. “I’m the wrong person to ask. I bet even a librarian can’t answer this with certainty. There’s like one Fluidus per generation. Not much information is available on your kind.” He leaned in and winked. “What I can tell you is that you don’t have to worry no more about your friends posting unflattering photos of you.”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “Colorful auras cause overexposure in videos or photos. Gray auras cause underexposure, at least to human eyes. Supernaturals can separate aura from the person and see both the image and the aura of the individual.”

  Shocked no one had thought to tell her this, Sierra just stared at him. His deep blue eyes sparkled with mischief. He looked to be in his early twenties, yet his mannerisms were the ones of a rebellious boy who liked testing boundaries. Finally, she regained her ability to speak. “Are you here to see Gavin? He’s not in.”

  “That’s too bad. I’m Cooper, by the way. Gavin has lost his manners. He forgot to introduce me last time.” A sly grin spread across his face. “Do you want to know why humans can’t remember Umbra?”

  Instead of replying, she made a mental note to create a list of questions and demand answers from Gran. Being clueless was getting old.

  “You know what the Phoenix sacrifice is?”

  “Of course.”

  “One of the penalties attached to turning is that humans are unable to remember Umbra. This makes business and other long-term relationship hard, if not nearly impossible.”

  Slowly, Cooper’s words sunk in, and Sierra finally understood why Whitney could never remember Jeff. Something else occurred to her. “Wouldn’t this curse give Umbra an advantage? They could steal and do other stuff, and no humans would recognize them or their image on security footage.”

  “Correct. That’s why Ardere deal with supernatural crimes.” Cooper rose. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Sierra. I’m sure we’ll see more of each other in the future. Give this to Gavin, will you?” He put an envelope on the counter. It was sealed with a wax stamp depicting two golden lions holding a flaming crown and scepter.

  When Sierra looked up to ask Cooper what the contents were, she discovered he was already by the door. She hurried after him outside. One moment he stood in front of the bar, the next he had teleported to the end of the road. Very neat.

  Chapter 22

  Sierra brushed her fingers across the light envelope with the royal stamp. It didn’t bear any resemblance to Olga’s brochure, so it probably wasn’t from Louis. But then whom was it from? Someone above Louis? Only two people stood above the regional rulers. Sierra sucked in a deep breath when the realization hit her. The envelope might be for Gavin, but it most likely had to do something with her. Gavin had hinted the other day, whether she liked it or not, she was part of the Ardere society. Would Clement demand she come to Connecticut and sign documents or swear loyalty to him?

  A wave of energy washed over Sierra. Her nerve endings tingled. She turned instinctively, knowing Gavin was there. Why was she able to feel his presence? Why did she react to him this way? She didn’t know and she was too scared to examine it any further.

  He joined her behind the counter. “Whitney on her phone again? Let me give you a hand.” His tone was nonchalant, yet she noticed the tense way he moved.

  Before Sierra could bring u
p the envelope, the after-work crowd rushed in. She was barely able to keep up with the orders, let alone talk to Gavin. Despite the flurry of customers, she was acutely aware of his proximity. The few times his shoulder or arm brushed her, her body practically hummed. She was a guitar, her strings pulled tight, ready to be played.

  When the influx abated, she turned to him and handed him the letter. “Cooper stopped by. This is for you.”

  Gavin’s jaw tightened at the sealing stamp. “Thank you.”

  “What is it?” He didn’t respond or look at her, so she continued. “It has something to do with me, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes.” Gavin spun to Whitney, who had just returned. “I need to talk to Sierra in my office. You’ll be on your own for a few minutes.” Whitney nodded, probably relieved she wasn’t being reprimanded for leaving Sierra alone to tend the bar earlier.

  Gavin held the door to his office open for her and then locked it tightly behind Sierra. Tired from being on her feet for hours, she sank into the chair opposite him. “So?” she prompted.

  “Louis made it clear he won’t leave you alone. And you’ve been attacked by two Umbra.”

  Sierra crossed her legs and leaned forward. “You want me and Waldeburg to leave.”

  “No. I want you to get training.”

  “I am. I’ve been running daily, and am practicing telekinesis with you.”

  “You need proper, structured training.”

  Sierra’s hand sneaked out, but Gavin was faster. He grasped the envelope and put it out of her reach.

  “What is in it? Tell me!”

  With a sigh, Gavin ripped open the seal and extracted a piece of paper. He scanned it wordlessly. Anger and fear surged within Sierra. This time she didn’t reach out. The letter flew out of Gavin’s grip into her hands.

  Dear Mr. Gavin McLoughlin,

  This is official proof that the contract between you and Lady Lorna Windsor has been sealed. As stated earlier, we expect you and Miss Sierra Reeves to arrive in London no later than the tenth of July.

  Please notify Mr. Cooper Starr of any password-protected information you require for your ongoing case in Savannah.

  Sincerely,

  Felicity Stone on behalf of Lady Lorna Windsor

  Sierra reread the letter twice, and then she pushed off her chair with so much force it tumbled backward. “You agreed to this without talking to me or Gran! Tenth of July! Are you kidding me?” She retrieved her cell phone and accessed the calendar. “That’s, like, in less than two weeks. Were you planning on telling me or just knocking me out and dragging me on an airplane?”

  “Sierra, listen…” Gavin rose and took a step toward her.

  She recoiled. “No! You listen. You don’t get to make decisions on behalf of other people. It’s not right! I’m not your pet. I’m a human being.” Her hand was on the door handle when he swiveled her around, his grip viselike around her shoulders.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but you have to believe me, this is in your best interest.”

  She cocked her head. “Is it, Gavin? Moving again, leaving everything and everyone behind? What about Gran? I didn’t see any mention of her.” His grip loosened, and Sierra hissed, “You can’t just separate me from the only family I have left!”

  “I didn’t mean to do that. She could come with us.”

  Sierra let out a bitter laugh. “How generous of you.” Tears of anger pushed against her eyes. She shoved them down. “You knew all along.”

  “What—”

  “When I complained to you the other day about Gran hiding her conversation with Lorna, you knew all along. You had this planned. I trusted you.”

  “Sierra, I wanted to tell you, but you were already upset with Waldeburg. I wanted to give you more time.”

  “Really? Two weeks to move to a different continent is not exactly what I call ‘giving me time.’” Sierra crossed her arms.

  “I thought you wanted to find out what happened to your father?”

  She swallowed. Gavin was right about that, and Lorna would only release information if Sierra came to London.

  “And the headquarters will have data on your mother.”

  Sierra grasped the bracelet on her wrist with the newly charged fire Agate. Her only heirloom of her mother, her only link. It wasn’t enough. She needed to know what kind of person her mother had been, needed to know why Aoife had turned Umbra. No matter how terrifying her mother’s past was, how terrifying the truth was, Sierra couldn’t run away from it.

  “I need more time,” she finally said.

  “Lorna doesn’t negotiate.”

  Sierra felt something soft within her crystallize. “Fine. I’ll go, but you get to explain this mess to Gran.”

  Gavin’s face fell. He seemed five years younger, and for a second, Sierra wanted to hug him. Then she caught herself. If he really cared that much about Gran’s approval, he shouldn’t have gone behind her back. Sierra wasn’t without fault herself. There were plenty of instances when she had done the wrong thing, yet never something on such a grand scale.

  Without another glance at Gavin, she exited his office, banging the door shut behind her. Her cell beeped with a text from Maxim. A wave of excitement chased away her fury.

  “Someone is in a good mood.” Whitney tried peeking at Sierra’s screen.

  “Stop that,” Sierra protested, even as she felt a smile tugging at her lip corners. In two weeks’ time, her life would once again be turned upside down. She might as well enjoy the present. “Maxim just asked me out on our second date.”

  Whitney clapped her hands and bounced up and down. “Ohh la la. So where is he taking you?”

  “The art museum.”

  Whitney rolled her eyes. “Sounds really boring. What about after? Are you going back to his place?” She swiveled her hips.

  “No, it’s only our second date.”

  “Are you planning on waiting till the third? This is so 90s of you!”

  Sierra flung the bar towel at Whitney and busied herself with chopping limes.

  “Don’t wait too long! Even the most patient ones lose their patience eventually,” Whitney singsonged. “And speaking of going home with someone…do you mind closing up? I have a date with Gio today.” Whitney flicked her blonde extensions over her shoulder and beamed as if she was made of liquid sunshine. “Gio said I’m the most beautiful and smart woman he ever met. I can’t wait to find out what he has planned.”

  For the rest of the shift, Whitney pranced around with a huge smile. She seemed so happy and carefree. Sierra didn’t want to ruin that, and yet she was certain Whitney had the right to know a killer was out in Savannah and that she had been attacked. She had the right to know that Gio was a Dragoon.

  “Oh, I almost forget. Tomorrow I’ll come in an hour later. I’m looking at decorations since Gavin has agreed to a costume party. I have about ten days to get everything ready, but I want to start early.” Sierra gave Whitney a blank look. “Aren’t you excited? It took me ages to convince Gavin to throw a costume party.” Whitney’s forehead creased. “He did say it’s off if the theme is anything witch or ghost related. Weird, huh?”

  Sierra had to bite the inside of her lip to keep herself from laughing. She could only imagine Gavin’s thoughts on what humans considered magic. Most likely, he despised the witch tales that included brooms, cauldrons, and spells that rhymed.

  “Which is fine with me. I was planning to do a roaring twenties party anyway. Feathers, glitter, and sequins.” Whitney’s voice turned dreamy. Then her gaze shifted, and she waved.

  Gio strode over with an air of haughtiness, as if his presence was a privilege he bestowed on others. The red aura around him vibrated. His bulging biceps stretched the material of his shirt tight, and his undercut hairstyle appeared to have half a bottle of gel in it. “Ready to go, baby?” He put a hand around Whitney’s shoulder, and she leaned into him. Sierra cringed at the PDA.

  “See you tomorrow!” Whitney called over h
er shoulder. Gio winked at Sierra before his attention refocused on Whitney’s behind. Maybe it was the leering, or perhaps it was how tiny Whitney appeared in Gio’s arms, but for a moment, Sierra had the disconcerting thought that Gio could be the killer. Jillian had said the killer was a supernatural. Both she and Gavin trusted Gio, making it easier for him to literally get away with murder. Whitney had worked at Veneficia for over a year. Was it coincidence that Gio was showing an interest in her now, a week after the killer had attacked her? Was Gio taking her out to finish the job?

  Sierra shook her head. No, serial killers were sinister. There was nothing sinister about Gio. He was just a womanizer who liked to drink too much, and she was overprotective about Whitney.

  The bell above the bar sounded, announcing last call, and Sierra collected empty glasses, filling the dishwasher. When she was finished, only one customer remained.

  He sat in a booth, his body slouched over the table, drooling—a sure indicator that making him leave wouldn’t be a pleasant task.

  Sierra could ask Gavin to deal with the drunk, but that would entail talking to Gavin, something she had no inclination of doing. Thus, she walked over herself, deciding to treat this as another exercise to practice her mind control. Swallowing hard, Sierra wiped her clammy palms on her jeans. She could do this.

  “What’s your name?” she asked, stepping closer to the stranger.

  “Tim,” he slurred.

  She managed to establish eye contact with his nearly shut eyes. The lecherous look he gave her made the urge to recoil rise within her. She didn’t. Instead, she took another step closer. “Tim, you’ve had enough to drink for tonight. It’s time for you to go home.”

  His eyes glazed over. “You’re right. It’s time for me to go home.” Tim’s voice was robotic. His body moved as if controlled by an outside force. He schlepped his limbs to the exit and staggered over the threshold.

  Sierra released a breath. In contrast to telekinesis, her mind-influencing skills seemed to be reliable. Did that mean she would perform better in shielding her mind from a Charmer? She didn’t know. She didn’t even know why she was worrying about this. Louis was far away, and thanks to Gavin, she was now under Lorna’s protection.