“Yes. It’s due to the Phoenix sacrifice.”
“How did the first Umbra come into existence?” The sweltering summer heat stood still, suffocating Sierra even in the night, and she welcomed the discomfort. Not a drop of her blood had been spilt, while Gran and Jeff had lost their lives.
“No one knows exactly. The first Umbra, Bahadur, didn’t leave written recordings.”
“Bahadur was the Umbra that overthrew the Ardere.” Sierra was desperate to continue the conversation to keep the pain away for another minute. Gavin seemed to understand that.
“Yes, Dietrich, a Dragoon, ended his reign of terror.”
Sierra didn’t have the opportunity to ask more, because just then, the door of Jillian’s building was flung open and the Guardian rushed toward them. Her eyes watered at the somber sight Sierra and Gavin must’ve been.
“Jeff?” Jillian asked, her face suspended in anticipation. Gavin shook his head. “Waldeburg?” The name was a whisper.
“She’s gone,” Sierra replied.
Jillian clamped her mouth shut and let the tears fall. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve come.”
“No.” Gavin’s voice was gruff. “You would’ve only put yourself in danger. They were Dragoons. No match for you or Jeff…”
“He didn’t use his Charmer powers?”
“Jeff was rusty. I don’t think he had enough time to draw up an illusion.” Gavin looked at Sierra for confirmation.
“We were surprised. Everything happened so fast.” She trudged inside and plopped down on the couch.
“What about Gio?”
Jillian’s question was directed at Gavin, but Sierra replied, “He picked Whitney up earlier today. They were on a date.” If she kept focusing on the facts and treated the entire evening as if it had happened to someone else and not her, maybe, just maybe she could get through it without falling apart.
“I swung by his apartment. He was drunk and busy,” Gavin added.
“He couldn’t have known.” Sierra shoved her feelings into a tiny box, putting lock after lock on it, throwing away the keys. “And with Whitney being attacked recently, he should be by her side.” Sometime during the events of the night, Sierra had become certain that Gio couldn’t be the killer. The killer. She sat up straight. “Could the Umbra be connected to the murders in Savannah? Maybe the murders are a distraction?”
“No.” Jillian handed her a hot cup of herbal tea. “If they were, they would coordinate and attack at the same time to stretch our resources.”
“And this is the first time the Culpatus have come to Savannah.”
Jillian gasped, spilling some of Gavin’s tea. “Are you sure?” She absently wiped at the wooden table with a napkin.
“Yes. They admitted it. Halbert Avici ordered—” Gavin stopped abruptly.
Sierra let out a bitter laugh. “You don’t have to shield me. I need to know. My whole family is gone. I’m the only one left, remember?”
A muscle in Gavin’s temple jerked. “Halbert Avici ordered your kidnapping.”
While Sierra and Gavin stared at each other silently, Jillian flung open her laptop and began typing. When she stopped, Sierra leaned in to read the results on the screen.
Name: Halbert Avici
Nickname: The Torturer
Age: 44
Status: Umbra (turned 16 years ago)
Faction: Dragoon
Affiliation: Culpatus
Rank: High
Power level: High
Danger level: High, do NOT engage
Weaknesses: Unknown
A picture sat below the description. Halbert’s face was turned, half of it shadowed. A bald man, he sported a goatee. His eyes were deep-set and sunken, his hooknose being the most prominent feature on his face. He looked like a man who could kill with one calculated move, but wouldn’t. No, he enjoyed drawing it out. Most Umbra seeped of evil. Halbert’s face reflected more than malice. It was filled with sadism. Even his gray aura specked with red radiated pure hatred. And this monster wanted to kidnap Sierra and use her to overthrow the regency. A shudder racked through her. “Is he the one in charge?”
Jillian bit her lip, continuing to stare at the screen.
A vein in Gavin’s neck pulsed. “No, Halbert is the second-in-command of the Culpatus. The leader is highly secretive, even his name is unknown.”
Sierra swallowed hard. Noxious and ingenious, not a desirable combination in one’s opponent. She felt almost a wave of nostalgia toward Louis and his pompousness, his vanity a clear weakness.
“How do we find out more?”
Jillian closed her laptop. “We can’t. At least not online. I’m afraid this information is only available—”
“At the headquarters,” Sierra finished. She turned to Gavin and allowed all the acerbity she felt to fill her voice as she said, “Congratulations. Looks like we’re going to London after all.”
Chapter 25
It was the screech of terror coming from her mouth that tore Sierra out of her nightmare into reality. It was just a dream. Just a dream. The throbbing, rushing pulse in her ears said otherwise. Her constricted lungs refused to give way to the oxygen she needed so desperately. The images rushed through her head. Her attempts to swat them away were futile. Even in the rays of the morning sun, all she could see was Gran’s chest being stabbed repeatedly, red liquid gushing from it. Gran collapsing. Her eyes turning glassy. Her pulse stopping. Death claiming her.
The same dream had plagued Sierra for the last seven nights, resulting in her waking up screaming and covered in sweat.
She pushed up on her elbows, slowly surveying the room Whitney had kindly allowed her to stay in. At first, Gavin hadn’t been too keen on Sierra staying with Whitney, but he had granted Sierra her wish, after Jillian promised to make the house safe by putting barrier quartzes everywhere, and pointed out that Gio practically lived here and could easily keep an eye on Sierra. Not that it had been necessary. Nothing had happened in the last week while Sierra had holed up in her room. She traipsed past the decorative pillows and empty water bottles strewn across the floor, to the full-length mirror, which mocked her, magnifying the half-moon circles underneath her eyes, displaying the limp mess her hair was, and highlighting the sickly paleness of her skin.
One week. It had been a whole week since Gran was murdered.
Sierra lumbered into the bathroom and splashed ice-cold water on her swollen eyelids. The disposable toothbrush was falling apart. Not caring, she squirted toothpaste on it. With aggressive strokes, she brushed her mouth, which resulted in her gums turning into a bleeding mess by the time she was done.
Her feet shuffled back toward the bedroom, but she didn’t comply. Spending more time crying wouldn’t bring Gran back. So instead, Sierra walked down the stairs into the modern kitchen with its gleaming white tiles and fancy Nespresso machine.
“Morning,” she mumbled.
Whitney extricated her hand from Gio’s and rushed over to hug Sierra. “How are you feeling? Would you like some coffee? Scrambled eggs?”
Knowing Whitney would force-feed her if she didn’t eat willingly, Sierra nodded. At least she didn’t have to pretend to be okay. Whitney had been told that Gran was killed in a robbery gone wrong.
Whitney pottered around while Sierra and Gio sat silently opposite each other, examining their hands. Even though she had been in her room for most of last week, she had heard Gio coming over several nights and staying until morning or later, spending time with Whitney. Whatever this was between them, it was more than sex.
The doorbell rang. “I hope it’s the costumes!” Whitney put a cup of coffee and a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast in front of Sierra.
“Thank you. What costumes?”
“The ones for the roaring twenties party. Remember? You and I are dressing up?” Whitney bit her lip. “That is, if you’re coming back to Veneficia.”
“Of course, I am.” Before she could change her mind, Sierra added, “Tonight. I’ll g
o in with you tonight.”
Whitney smiled. “Great. I think that will be really good for you.” She rushed out of the kitchen, yelling, “Coming!”
Sierra sipped her coffee.
“I’m sorry.” Gio’s face was filled with guilt. He looked pale underneath his perma-tan. For once, he was hunched over instead of proudly pushing out his muscular chest.
At first, she didn’t understand what he was apologizing for, but then she recalled Jillian asking why Gio hadn’t been there the night of the attack. Sierra had been consumed with her own guilt about her inability to save Gran and Jeff; she hadn’t even considered how this had impacted anyone else. Well, that wasn’t quite true. She had thought about Gavin a lot, hoping he would come by to check up on her, talk to her. A few times, she had even debated calling him. In the end, she didn’t. If he wanted to talk to her, he would’ve let her know. Clearly, he needed space. She understood. After all, she was the one responsible for Gran and Jeff’s death. If not for Sierra, they would still be alive.
Gio wasn’t at fault here. Sierra looked up at him. “How are you holding up?”
He rubbed a crumpled paper piece between his fingers. “I feel ashamed. I always mess everything up.”
“It’s not your fault the Umbra arrived so suddenly. You couldn’t have known.”
“I should’ve been ready. Ready to support Gavin whenever he needs me. Do you know how many nights I’m out of it? Wasted senseless?” Gio massaged his temples. “And now Jeff is gone. Your Gran is gone. Gavin hates me. You hate me.”
“No, I don’t.” Sierra leaned forward. “Everything went so quickly. Even if you would’ve been with Gavin, you would’ve arrived too late.”
“He could’ve sent me with Jeff.”
She shook her head. “He wouldn’t have done that. The four Umbra were supposed to be at the warehouse. Two deviated from the plan. No one could’ve predicted that.”
“Jeff—” Gio paused, as if deciding whether he really wanted to say the next few words. A few beats later, he continued in a barely audible voice. “—he always told me to clean up my act. He asked whether that’s all I wanted to do with my life—get drunk and womanize. I laughed, replying there’s no better way to live.” Gio shook his head. “I did a lot of thinking this week. I don’t want to be one of those sad, old creeps sitting at the bar alone, trying to get a piece of ass. I want to change.”
Just then, Whitney came back. “I’ll put your costume on your bed. Do you mind if I try mine on now?”
“Take your time,” Gio replied for both of them. Whitney gave him a peck on the lips and hurried upstairs.
“Are you serious about Whitney?”
Gio’s expression grew solemn, and Sierra wondered if she had overstepped a boundary.
“At first I was fascinated by her beauty and her energy. She has a lot of energy for a human.” Gio played with the saltshaker. “I’m really enjoying her company. She’s fun, and she works hard. She has goals.”
“What about the whole human issue?”
Gio shrugged, yet Sierra noticed his shoulders grew rigid. “It’s not like we’re immortals or vampires, sucking blood. The few things I can do are easy to disguise.”
“To hide.”
“You’re dating Maxim.”
Maxim. Sierra had cancelled their second date, telling him a few things came up and she didn’t want to talk about them. He had been understanding and had encouraged her to take her time, telling her he would check in again soon. She had hoped he wouldn’t. Her life was a mess. She was a mess. Maxim deserved better. Unfortunately, he had called and texted her yesterday, trying to reschedule their date.
“The dress fits perfectly, and the material is really nice.” Whitney returned to the kitchen, beaming.
Gio rose. “Everything looks fab on you, babe. I have to get to work. I’ll see you tonight.” They kissed, and Whitney stared dreamily after Gio.
“Where does he work?” Sierra asked.
“The fitness studio.”
Of course. Sierra was surprised she hadn’t guessed it herself. However, up until now, she had only seen Gio nursing a beer or taking shots, making it hard to imagine he had a job at all. She shook her head. No need to be hard on him, especially when he was trying to change.
Whitney poured herself a coffee and sat opposite Sierra. “We should do a double date.”
“With whom?” Sierra asked, already disliking where this was going.
“You and Maxim.”
Sierra inspected her hair for split ends.
“Don’t tell me you cancelled on him again.”
“I didn’t reply to his last texts or calls.”
Whitney sighed. “Sierra, I might not know your grandmother, but I’m certain she would’ve wanted you to continue with your life. She would want you to live, not just exist.”
Tears began building behind Sierra’s eyes, and she rubbed her lids.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I just think you need to continue with your life.” Whitney pulled her into a hug.
“What if I break down in the middle of the date?”
Whitney brushed Sierra’s hair back. “You can always call me, and I’ll come and pick you up. But you have to try. You won’t get over your loss by locking yourself away from the outside world.”
Sierra nodded. Whitney was right. Gran and Jeff hadn’t protected her with their lives only for Sierra to hide. They wanted her to live her life.
She made a resolution to enjoy Savannah for the next week. Jillian had assured her that, after the incident, which was what the regency called the Umbra ambush, spies were supervising the Culpatus’s every move. There would be no more attacks until Sierra and Gavin’s departure for London.
London, where Sierra didn’t know anyone and where she would be travelling to with Gavin, who wasn’t speaking to her. So yes, she better enjoy her last week in Savannah before her life was once again thrown into mayhem.
Chapter 26
Her shift at Veneficia left Sierra exhausted, ensuring she got her first proper night of sleep in a week. However, the next morning, the emptiness returned full force. It consumed her, driving her insane. Whitney had been right; it would be good for Sierra to go out on a date with Maxim. It would keep her occupied. Until then, she would go for a run, work off some of her frustration and quiet her mind.
The sun was hiding behind the clouds, and it was one of the less hot summer days in Savannah. Sierra tied her sneakers and dashed down the stairs. “See you in an hour,” she called to Whitney, who was sitting in the kitchen, drinking coffee and flipping through a magazine.
“Okay. But don’t come back last minute. We still need to pick out your outfit for your date!”
Sierra nodded and locked the door behind her. After a few minutes, she found her rhythm, feeling lighter than she had in days. Her feet pounded the cement; her lungs drew deep breaths. While she knew she could never outrun her pain, she was grateful for the temporary reprieve, her mind too consumed by activity to go into full-grief mode.
Past the residential buildings, Sierra ran down the main street. A gray-haired lady strode toward her. The colorful clothing, the upright posture, and the vigorousness despite her age made Sierra immediately think of Gran.
Sierra’s throat tightened. Rapidly, she blinked several times, praying the tears wouldn’t come. She couldn’t break down in the middle of a street for everyone to see. Utterly consumed with her heartache, it took her a while to realize the old lady had dropped her handbag. The contents were spread on the sidewalk and the road. Instinctively, Sierra broke into a sprint, her senses going on high alert, telling her the woman was in danger.
On her knees, gathering the disseminated items, the elderly woman didn’t notice a car zooming down the road, way above the speed limit. The driver was completely unaware of her, his attention glued to his phone. Sierra picked up her velocity, her gut screaming at her to hurry. Just in time, she jumped between the old woman and the car, holdi
ng out both of her hands. Sparks ignited in her blood. They pumped through her limbs, roared in her body. The energy streamed into her palms and erupted from them—nothing visible, yet Sierra could feel it in every single nerve ending.
The driver was still typing away when Sierra’s telekinesis brought his vehicle to an abrupt stop. His face contorted in a scowl. Sierra couldn’t hear him talk, but she was certain he was cursing his car and its sudden malfunction. Then he looked up and noticed the two women. Shock replaced his angry expression. Once he recovered, he glanced around, probably making sure no police officer had witnessed the scene, then changed lanes and slowly drove around and past them, not offering to help, or checking whether they were fine.
“Thank you, my dear. I mustn’t have heard the car approach. My sister always tells me I need a hearing device. I guess she’s right.”
Trembling, Sierra helped the old woman collect her belongings. Only when she was out of sight, did Sierra allow herself to lean against the brick wall. Sobs racked her body. When she had no more tears left, she stared at her hands. Hands that couldn’t save Gran, but could save others.
And she would. She would go to London and train until she had her ability fully under control, until she was self-sufficient and didn’t need others to fight her battles.
“You look beautiful.” Maxim gave Sierra a peck on the lips and held the car door open for her. His eyes roamed down her black, lacy dress to her bare legs, elongated by three-inch pumps, and Sierra made a mental note to thank Whitney for her help.
“How have you been?” Maxim asked.
“Good.” Sierra had decided not to tell him about Gran. She didn’t want his sympathy, his pity. Didn’t want to explain, especially since there was no point in doing so. This was a date, nothing more. She would be gone in a week’s time.
“You moved,” Maxim observed.
She nodded, hoping he wouldn’t ask why.
“Do you like it?”
“Yes. So what kind of exhibition is this?” Sierra asked, eager to take the attention off herself.
Fluidus Rising: A YA Paranormal Novel: (The Ardere Series Book1) Page 16