by Rachel Jonas
Whispers rang throughout the room.
“Silence!” The Elder boomed, immediately ending the chatter. While his face and eyes were still hidden, his head moved as he slowly scanned the room for defiance. “This is not an isolated event,” he went on. “And neither is the widespread rejection of the tariff. It is our understanding that many clans have refused to pay in recent months, therefore our… Sovereign,” he said with clear disdain, “has decided to show his power.”
The Elder went on to explain further, but I was distracted.
By a familiar smell.
Smoke.
I scanned the room quickly for Evie, but she was nowhere in sight. What was even more disconcerting, I didn’t hear her heart. In a room this quiet, it should have been pounding like a drum.
Drowning out the hum of The Elder’s voice, I closed my eyes and concentrated, thinking I could maybe find that familiar pulsation through the air, but again… nothing.
Around me, the sound of sniffing made me open my eyes to find that several others nearby had picked up on it, too. It was coming from my right, somewhere near the front, but it was hard to tell from whom. So, I breathed deeper, dismissing the subtle traces of perfume and peoples’ natural aromas… until I found it.
Or, found him.
Standing there, arms crossed, a stern look set on his face, was a guy. One who, from what I could see from this distance, seemed big enough to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with my brothers and I. Or, I don’t know, maybe slightly taller.
I’d never seen him before and while that shouldn’t have meant anything… that smell. I’d only known one other to carry it.
He stuck out like a sore thumb here. Our clan was poised, sophisticated, hiding our true nature well. Most arrived still wearing work attire—dress shirts and slacks, uniforms, pantsuits, dresses.
But not this guy.
It looked like he jumped out of the pages of an Outdoor Living magazine and popped into the meeting—dark t-shirt, distressed jeans with a hole or two, and boots. His hair was long, but he wore it bundled behind his head. I was sure some motorcycle gang headed across the planes was missing their leader. Everything about him gave the impression of him being feral.
Rogue.
Most had given up on their search for the scent, but I had him locked in. It took everything in me not to go to him, not to ask who he was and where he came from, hoping to get a clue as to what Evie was. But there was no way I could do that now. The Elders were clearly intolerant of interruptions, so I’d have to wait. Hopefully, when the crowd dispersed, I’d get my chance. Glancing over at him every so often, I went back to listening.
“There isn’t much more we can share at this time, but rest assured, the Council has always acted in the best interest of the people,” the Elder concluded. “This brings our meeting to a close, but remember,” he said gravely, prompting those in the room familiar with the saying to speak in unison:
“Above all else, guard the secret, protect the clan.”
And just like that, it was over. And, in my opinion, we hadn’t gotten a whole lot further ahead than we were before, but there were bits and pieces of useful information sprinkled into the conversation. In the very least, Roz and I had some key terms to check into.
What sort or tariffs were clans being charged?
Who, was the Sovereign?
And how was he controlling the increase in natural disasters that led to so many shifting early? Did it have something to do with the witches? Richie warned that they were powerful and malicious, so it was definitely possible.
As quiet conversations began to pick up and the Council exited, I realized I’d lost my target. The guy, and the aroma of smoke, were gone. My eyes darted all over the place, but he was nowhere in sight. My one lead had just slipped between my fingers.
“So, that was trippy, right?”
Roz stepped up beside me, shoving both hands in the back pockets of her jeans.
Distracted and still wondering how I let the guy get away, I nodded. “If trippy also means pointless, then, yes, the meeting was trippy.”
She laughed. At that exact moment, I caught my mother watching us together and I rolled my eyes. There was no way I’d introduce Roz to her or any of my family. It’d give everyone involved the wrong impression, so, instead, I turned my back toward them and faced Roz.
“Listen, I was reading last night and I think I may have some info you’ll want.” When she paused, I was just getting ready to tell her to spill it, but she interjected just as I opened my mouth. “Not here, though.”
A rush of air left my lungs. “I can call you later,” was the only solution I could come up with.
“Actually, it’s kinda urgent.”
The word urgent made my ears perk.
“My dad and I rode here separate because he figured people would swarm him after the meeting and he also knew I’d hate having to wait,” she chuckled. “If it’s okay with your parents, I can drive you home.”
Without having to turn around, I was sure my mother was already watching and listening, so there was no need to share my plans with her.
“It’s fine,” I replied and we turned to leave right away.
During our climb up the narrow staircase, I tried to guess what Roz had to share. Whatever the case, I was sure she had more to contribute than the Council just had. They heavily guarded their secrets, but I was sure Officer Chadwick’s idea to show up in droves made some headway. At least it was clear that we weren’t sweeping any of this under the rug, weren’t going to turn a blind eye anymore.
The lot was full, but most still hadn’t surfaced yet. Roz’s alarm chirped when she unlocked the car and we didn’t speak again until we were settled in the front seat and heading toward my house.
“Okay, I’m listening. What’d you find?” My tone was curt, but it had nothing to do with her. I still couldn’t believe I lost my lead.
“Well, it’s about your… Evie,” Roz corrected midsentence.
I faced her now, diverting my eyes from the road ahead as my interest in this conversation suddenly piqued. “What about her?”
There was a long pause that frustrated the heck out of me, but I kept my cool.
“‘Embers that burn, but can never be consumed’.”
“Where’d you hear that?”
Roz’s eyes drifted back and forth between me and the road as she gripped the steering wheel. “You’ve heard it before?”
“My mom. She said it to my dad the night they met Evie. They were arguing and she recited that same quote,” I said in a rush. “But what does it mean?”
That freakin’ silence was back, but this time I didn’t have the patience to deal with it.
“Just spit it out, Roz.”
She breathed deep and her reluctance made me uncomfortable. “It’s an old saying. Apparently, there’s this… other race of shifters. A rare one,” she explained. “They’re… dragons. And, while they don’t have the numbers we have, they do exist”
My brow tensed as I tried to make heads or tails of what she was saying. The first image that popped into my head was something resembling Godzilla, breathing fire as it walked the streets of Seaton Falls.
“Wait, dragons?”
Roz nodded. “Yeah, and based on everything I read, these things are nasty; we’re talking bloodthirsty, incredibly powerful, and unpredictable.”
I was silent, trying to process it all, trying to imagine Evie being all those things Roz just mentioned and it didn’t fit. The only thing about it that did make sense was the scent of fire I noticed on her since day one. Otherwise, she was sweet and gentle. A far cry from bloodthirsty.
“And I’m guessing you’ve already figured out there’s a ruler of some sort,” Roz added, moving on from the blow she’d just hit me with. “The Sovereign is basically king over all lycans.”
I still said nothing, barely even registering the last thing she said. As farfetched as it seemed, the pieces were starting to fit. If Evie was
really one of these dragons Roz mentioned, my mother’s reservations about us hanging out might have made sense. While I wasn’t afraid, I could see why she might be concerned.
I gripped the back of my neck when frustration set in. “What do you mean they’re rare?”
Roz shrugged a bit. “Well, from what I read, to see one present day is about as common as crossing paths with a unicorn at an intersection in town.”
“Then how’s Evie—”
“Good question.”
And I didn’t say it out loud, but I was pretty sure Evie’s parents were only human. They didn’t give off the same scent she did. I would’ve noticed. Which either meant she’d been turned at some point or… they weren’t her biological parents. However, despite them not being shifters like Evie, I was still positive she wasn’t the only dragon in town. The guy I saw tonight; there had to be a connection between the two.
Had to be.
A sharp breath left my mouth. I didn’t share my thoughts with Roz because they were dark and personal. I considered the possibility that this, the recent rift between Evie and I, was deeper than I realized. Maybe it had less to do with her needing space to figure things out and more to do with the supernatural. It was entirely possible that what she’d become and what I am made our end inevitable.
And maybe she’d already figured this out and simply didn’t know how to tell me.
A flicker of hope hit me at the thought of there still being a chance that it wouldn’t matter. Maybe some old book didn’t have to seal our fate. The things Roz found on dragon shifters made it sound like Evie and I were the exact wrong people for each other. Heck, my mom already believed that.
But I didn’t.
Evie was none of those things. It was possible to overcome the differences because I wasn’t afraid. However, the only way it would work was if she was still willing.
Roz turned into my neighborhood when I pointed her in the right direction. The nightguard recognized me in the passenger seat and waved us through the gate.
Roz’s eyes darted over. “What’re you thinking?”
I didn’t have an answer.
She came to a stop in my driveway and the last words I spoke to her were to thank her for the ride home. For now, I just needed to sort things out.
As I approached the front door, my eyes were drawn toward Evie’s window, to the sheers with light glowing behind them. She was awake and I wanted nothing more than to go to her and lay everything out on the table—that I knew what she was, that I didn’t really care, and that I believed we were bigger than any myths and legends.
But… I couldn’t.
Because she didn’t want that right now.
What she wanted was time to think and… I had no choice but to give her that.
—
Chapter Twenty-Seven —
Evie
Steam.
Lots of steam.
And running water.
Large hands blocked my view for a moment when Liam wiped his eyes. Blue tile covered the walls and it only took a split second to realize where he was when I aimlessly wandered inside his head after dozing.
I still didn’t have the hang of this. I wanted to speak, to let him know he wasn’t exactly alone right now, but I couldn’t yet. It was like our connection was always delayed at first. However, before today, it’d never been much of an inconvenience.
The faucet screeched when he reached forward to turn it off, swiping water from his face as he stepped out. I felt terrible for popping in on him at such a bad time, but it truly was an accident. While, on occasion, I could purposely orchestrate these encounters, there were also the times when the shifter in me sought after Liam without my knowing.
Like now.
The green towel on the counter was taken and he used it to dry his face before draping it around his neck. After that, he used his hand to clear a path through the condensation on the mirror. Damp hair hung in loose waves that touched his shoulders, releasing tiny droplets onto his neck and chest that raced toward his stomach in wet trails. I’d only seen his hair loose like this one other time; when I popped in on him while he drove. I preferred it this way. It reminded me of the vision I had of him earlier—the one from our past. He had that ‘surfer-boy, just walked out of the ocean’ look you typically only saw in movies.
Steam quickly vacated the room when Liam pulled the door open and I tried again to call out to him.
Fail.
He grabbed his toothbrush from the medicine cabinet and I waited patiently while he went through his nightly routine—brushing, flossing, gargling.
He stood straight again and put everything away before his heavy footsteps carried him down the hall toward the bedroom. Just outside one of the many open windows he passed, an owl hooted from a nearby tree. I could practically smell the fresh air and pine wafting through. In his thoughts, I spent so much time in this space that, in a way, it felt like my home, too.
Stopping at the dresser, Liam grabbed a pair of dark sweats and tossed them to the bed. He swiped on deodorant and now I imagined the smell of him instead of his house—natural, clean. He lifted both sides of the towel still encircling his neck and tousled his wet hair, and then, the very next second, he nearly killed me dead when he stepped directly in front of the full-length mirror mounted to his wall.
Killed.
Me.
Dead.
“Liam! Oh, my gosh!” I yelled inside my head, inside his. This time, getting through, but my voice didn’t seem to startle him.
I didn’t have the option of turning away; there was no covering my eyes. I had no choice but to see him exactly as he saw himself… standing face-to-face, body-to-body, with his reflection.
He was calm even after hearing me scream his name.
“You’re in bed kinda early, aren’t you?” he asked, wearing a dim smile as he took his precious time securing the towel around his waist. Clearly, I was the only one embarrassed or uncomfortable with the outcome of my unscheduled visit.
I ignored his question, still in shock. “I’m… I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to just...” The words wouldn’t leave my mouth the way I was putting them together inside my brain.
A deep, throaty chuckle hit the air. “It’s fine,” he insisted, but it wasn’t. It wasn’t fine.
“I feel like… such a tool.”
For some reason, the comment made him laugh a little harder.
“Seriously, it’s not a big deal.”
I was pretty sure he only said that to make me feel better. If someone popped in on me like this, unannounced—even if it was completely accidental and only in my head—I’d be furious.
“I think you’re forgetting something,” he said with a grin. I was all ears, waiting to hear the rest as he left the mirror, taking the sweats from his bed. My vision was suddenly void of smooth, tattooed skin and it was easier to focus on his words.
“You and I,” he went on. “We weren’t just… friends. I was clear about that, right?”
I wasn’t sure what that meant at first, but then read between the lines and, once I understood, my insides began to swirl. Whether I remembered the past or not, Liam and I were in no way, shape, or form… strangers.
“When it came to boundaries, there were none,” he added, getting his point across completely without sharing the graphic details.
However, I did a pretty good job of filling in the blanks all on my own.
After a brief, mildly pervy moment I’m not proud of, I finally forced the thought from my head altogether.
“How was the, um… the meeting?” I blurted, needing something else to talk about. Something that didn’t involve our past or how we behaved a lifetime ago.
Liam shrugged and I went along for the ride as he made his way to the kitchen for a glass of water. He rested against the counter and sipped before answering. And when he did, it wasn’t lost on me how his tone changed.
“It went exactly the way they always do—Elders speaking in co
de, throwing their weight around.”
“Did you get any answers?”
He paused to sip again. “Apparently, several clans recently decided to refuse the tariff, including the clan here in Seaton Falls.”
I was pretty sure he forgot this was all new to me. “I’m completely lost.”
“Uh, right. The Clan Tariff… it’s been in place so long I can hardly remember when it was enacted. It’s always been the same—monthly, he takes a portion of the clan’s collective income; yearly, three newly shifted lycans, chosen by lottery for the Royal Militia.”
“Wait, you said ‘he’. He who?”
There was a long pause before Liam spoke and his gaze lowered when he did. “The Sovereign, also known as Sebastian De Vincenzo.”
I’d never heard the name before, but Liam’s tone immediately colored my opinion of the man it was attached to.
“So, is he like… ruler over all the shifters, or what?” My tone was a bit condescending, but not intentionally. I was just trying to paint the whole picture.
Liam placed his glass in the sink. The kitchen, and then the hallway, went dark as he killed the lights on the way back to his bedroom. “No, just ruler over the lycans,” he grumbled. “Unfortunately, as the last-remaining Original, yeah… that makes him king.”
“So, I get that there are different kinds of shifters, but all the ones in Seaton Falls are lycans, right?”
“From what I’ve seen, yes.”
He reached toward one last switch and the yellow light beaming down from the fixture above submitted to the pale-gray glow of moonlight. He dropped down onto his bed and then we were staring at the ceiling. At silhouetted branches that shuttered every now and then with the wind.
I thought about his answer, that all the shifters in Seaton Falls were lycans. And then I thought of how, earlier in class, so many mentioned the smoke, which meant I was different. As in… not a lycan.
“So, what does that make me?”
“It makes you very special,” he answered. If my physical body hadn’t been asleep, if I had actual control over my face at the moment, I might’ve smiled.