‘His name was Angus. He has been a Grigori for more than a hundred years. He was my…mentor. My friend.’
I swallowed a lump in my throat. ‘Griffin?’ I asked hesitantly. His eyes flicked up to me.
‘I…I had blood on my hands. When I first realised I was here, there was blood all over me. I don’t know if…if I?’ I didn’t believe it, but the fact was that somewhere along the line I had lost time, and when I came to, a dead body was at my feet.
‘Killed him?’ he offered, looking up at me calmly.
‘Yes,’ I gulped.
‘No. This was done by exiles. I’m sure if you concentrate you’ll feel the energy they have left behind.’
I didn’t need to concentrate. I had already felt it, but I’d still had to ask.
I could hear the pain in Griffin’s voice at losing his friend. I gave him some space, returning to my crate halfway down the alley.
I was still sitting there, staring into mid-air, when more Grigori arrived. I recognised some of them from the last murder scene. It was comforting in a way; their presence seemed to calm the new power that was bubbling inside me. I assumed they were the clean-up crew. A couple of them nodded at me as they walked by, acknowledging me as one of their own.
Magda and Lincoln turned up at the same time. They had obviously come together, but that didn’t bother me as much as I would have expected. As if my jealousy were somehow censored. When I thought about it, it actually seemed like when it came to Lincoln, all my feelings were suppressed now – except, of course, for anger. I put it down to coping mechanisms, sweeping it under the carpet, where all things ‘Lincoln’ went these days.
He stayed to talk to me while Magda threw out a half-assed wave and kept walking towards Griffin. Yep, really feeling the love from Magda.
‘Are you OK?’ he asked, tentatively.
‘Yeah,’ I said, even though my hands were still trembling.
‘Was it really Angus?’
‘That’s what Griffin said.’
Lincoln swore under his breath.
‘Did you know him too?’
‘Yeah, in fact, I was hoping to introduce you to him. He survived a lot of pretty terrible things. Who did this?’
‘Onyx and Joel,’ I blurted out.
His eyebrows rose. ‘Together?’
I nodded. ‘They sucked me into some warped nightmare and when I came to, I was here. It had to have been them. They’re completely and utterly psycho.’
‘Well, at least you’re starting to understand what exiles are really like.’
I didn’t miss the dig intended for Phoenix and immediately felt defensive. I gave Lincoln my best I-couldn’t-care-less-what-you-think-and-I’m-pissed-off-at-you smile and stood up. ‘I haven’t slept all night. I’m going to grab a taxi. Tell Griffin I’ll see him in the morning.’
‘You’re just leaving?’ He held his hands out in disbelief.
‘Yep. I’m tired, Linc, and I don’t want to fight with you. I’m going home to sleep. If Griffin needs me, he’ll call.’ And then out of spite I added, ‘Don’t worry, I’m sure Magda can hold your hand if you get lonely.’
I spun on my heels to make my getaway. Like a blessing, a taxi pulled up almost immediately, giving even more impact to my departure.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
‘You know that when I hate you, it is because I love you to a point of passion that unhinges my soul.’
Julie de Lespinasse
I dragged myself out of bed after only a couple of hours’ sleep. I was determined to get control of my life, tired of letting everyone push and pull at me. I was a Grigori now and I needed to know what was going on. Especially since it appeared I had my own little renegade-angel fan club.
I called Griffin and arranged for him to come round to my place. He sounded like he hadn’t slept at all and slyly remarked on my disappearance, but his heart wasn’t in it. I think he was too tired to bother with a lecture. He knew we needed to talk.
While waiting for Griffin, I put on a load of washing and tidied up the apartment a little for the cleaners who were due later. I considered ringing Steph to start grovelling, but then thought better of it. It was still early and any movement before midday might be considered a hostile act. I didn’t want to risk burying myself any deeper.
When I came back into the kitchen I saw I had a new text message.
Griffin asked me to come with him. Hope that’s OK. Linc.
I looked at the clock on my phone; they were due any second. I didn’t have time to prepare myself – emotionally or physically. I dropped my face into my hands and more or less laughed. Could things get any crazier?
In that instant the doorbell rang. I went to the door via the mirror. I knew I wouldn’t have stopped if it were only Griffin waiting on the other side. Damn it.
I paused, bracing myself to lay eyes on Lincoln. I knew that no matter how angry I was at him, the sight of him would still affect me. It always did. I opened the door and his green eyes took me in, as I did him and…nothing. Maybe I was finally getting over him?
I fixed them coffee, only needing to check with Griffin how he took his. I’d made a million coffees for Lincoln and knew he liked a double shot with just the smallest dash of milk and if asked he would say one sugar, but really he preferred two.
Once I settled on the couch, I looked over to see Lincoln staring at me. He was baffled by something.
‘Did you put any sugar in this?’ He motioned to the coffee he had just sipped.
‘No,’ I said, equally baffled. I moved to stand up, but he stood himself, shaking his head at me.
‘Don’t worry. I’ll get it,’ he said.
Griffin noticed the tension. ‘Look, if you two are going to behave like twelve-year-olds, this isn’t going to work. In case you haven’t noticed, we are dealing with a fairly large problem at the moment.’
I looked at the floor, guiltily.
‘Sorry, Griff,’ Lincoln said from behind me. ‘We’re fine, aren’t we, Violet?’
I didn’t miss the condescension in his tone.
‘We’re great,’ I said, turning around and narrowing my eyes. I was tempted to add that he wouldn’t even be able to remember how twelve-year-olds acted since he was so damn old, but somehow I forced my hateful mouth shut. Instead, I turned back to Griffin. ‘I’m sorry too.’ It wasn’t often I felt like I had received a parental scolding. I was disappointed with myself for letting Griffin down.
We ran through the details of the previous night and I filled in the gaps. Lincoln listened in amazement. It didn’t bother me; it was just as unreal to me. Griffin listened intently and didn’t interrupt until I had relived the night completely.
‘I think you’ve been tampered with,’ Griffin said.
‘Huh?’
‘As a Grigori, your defences should be stronger. Given what we’ve already seen of your strengths, you shouldn’t have any difficulty being able to stop them from infiltrating your dreams, your imagination. They’re using their powers to obscure you somehow,’ Griffin explained.
‘I don’t understand. I thought once I was a Grigori, my powers would protect me. Are you telling me these psycho exiles will be able to invade my dreams whenever they want and send me out to discover dead bodies?’
I felt like throwing something – or crying. It was too much to contemplate. After everything I’d been through, it still wasn’t enough. Lincoln fidgeted in his seat then stilled. I thought for a second he was going to come to me. I thought for a second that I wanted him to, but at the same time I was relieved that he didn’t.
‘I don’t know how, but it seems you have some kind of block in your defences. That’s why I brought Lincoln.’ Griffin stood up. ‘Can we move the furniture back?’ he asked.
My brow furrowed. ‘Why?’ Out of the corner of my eye I saw Lincoln give a sly smile.
Griffin started pushing the couch back. ‘We need to test some of your other abilities. Then we can see if there are any other problems. That means a little
sparring. Given how volatile you seem to be at times…I thought it best to put Lincoln on the firing line since you can heal him so well.’ Griffin was smiling too.
I stood up and started to push my chair back. ‘Fine by me,’ I said, trying but failing to conceal my delight at the thought of testing out my new powers, not to mention releasing some pent-up aggression towards Lincoln.
Great, we were all smiling. I guess it was an improvement.
We cleared all the furniture to the walls, creating our own little thunderdome. Griffin gave us some general guidelines, which were basically that he wanted me to both give and take blows, testing my strength and durability.
Lincoln and I stood opposite each other, waiting. He smiled and shrugged. ‘So hit me, Violet. Let’s see if you can finally pack a little punch.’
That was all it took. I drew strength from within and pummelled my fist into his stomach and then across his face, knocking him back a few steps. There was a time when I would have been mortified, but I felt nothing. I was strong and fast – but then, so was he.
He was back in position within moments; his speed was amazing. He leveraged back and struck out with his foot, landing the impact squarely in my gut. I stumbled back, marvelling that I didn’t fall over.
I caught Lincoln watching me cautiously. I knew that look. ‘Stop being a pussy, Lincoln! We came here to test me out, so test!’ I yelled, not holding back on my growing hostility.
He rolled his eyes at me, but then stepped forward and struck me across the face. He made contact on the first attempt, but I dodged the second, remembering defence was also important. From there – it was game on.
We struck out at each other; I used every move he had ever taught me and anything else I could throw at him. I was agile and barely had to think of a movement before my body obliged – it was just too much fun. I couldn’t believe it, but with power and strength on my side, I thrived. It felt…natural.
After sustaining the blows Lincoln had delivered, I should have been on the way to the hospital. It was surreal, but I barely felt sore. No wonder nothing I’d ever done to Lincoln in our training sessions had caused any impact. We both hit hard, but I was still holding back – and if I was holding back, so was he.
I decided on a different strategy. Without warning, I stepped back and laughed. He looked at me in confusion.
‘What?’ he demanded, a little breathless.
I spoke between bouts of laughter. ‘Nothing… I just thought you’d be stronger.’ I tried to sound unimpressed.
‘We’re doing what we need to do for the purpose of today.’ I could hear the condescension in his voice. He thought I was being petty. I simply chuckled again.
‘You wanted this, Linc! You wanted me to be strong, be a Grigori. What? You’re not worried you’ll hurt me, are you?’ My words held a multitude of digs.
He reacted as I’d hoped, shaking his head. ‘Fine, Violet,’ he said, resigned. ‘Let’s see how strong you really are.’
I didn’t stop to think, couldn’t stop. I threw all the force I had into one punch, directed at Lincoln’s chest. In it was all the hate and anger that I felt towards him.
In a move so fast I didn’t even see it, Lincoln caught my hand in his, absorbing the impact and stopping it. My jaw dropped at the awesomeness of his power. His hand, which held mine with surprising tenderness, let go.
Griffin stepped between us. ‘Enough. We have what we needed. You’re strong, Violet, especially for a rookie. I’ve rarely seen another make Lincoln even break a sweat. Your problem isn’t in offence,’ he said.
I stepped back, trying to process everything, mostly my own attitude, my own hatred. I was starting to feel out of control, literally. The question was, if I wasn’t in control, who was?
I looked over at Lincoln, who was behind the kitchen bench rinsing his face. Sensing me, he looked up. Our eyes locked and I glimpsed pain, just for a moment. Bruises were forming on the side of his face.
I pointed to them. ‘I could try to heal those.’
It was intended as a peace offering, but it was too late. He threw down the towel he was using to dry his face. ‘Forget it. I’m not in the mood.’
It took me a few seconds to get it. When I did, my face burned with mortification. ‘I…I wasn’t offering to kiss… I didn’t mean.’
‘As I said. Forget it.’ I noticed he hadn’t offered to heal any of my bruises.
‘So what now?’ I asked Griffin. He rubbed his forehead, weariness showing. The circles under his eyes were darkening by the minute.
‘I don’t know. At the last count, Joel and Onyx between them will have a force of about fifteen. That’s a lot of exiles to handle, especially since we keep losing good Grigori. They’re picking us off one by one and making sure we know about it.’
‘Is that why they led me to the body…to Angus, last night?’
‘Partly, I think.’
‘Griffin,’ Lincoln interjected, ‘there’s a reason they’re targeting Violet. They fear her, but all they did last night was succeed in giving us a heads-up that there’s a problem with her powers. We need to find the cause.’
‘Maybe I’m just defective,’ I threw in defensively. He didn’t bite, instead he just turned his attention back to the nothing zone. His restraint was impressive, as well as annoying.
‘Either way,’ Griffin stepped in once again, ‘we should probably arrange to have someone with you so this doesn’t happen again. Lincoln? Can you stay with her tonight?’
My mouth flew open. ‘No!’
Lincoln gave a bitter laugh, shaking his head again. It made me feel about five years old.
‘Umm…what I meant was…’ I said, trying to regain a little composure, ‘I’ve got plans tonight.’
‘You’re going out?’ Lincoln spoke quietly, but his disapproval came across loud and clear.
‘Yeah. I mean…Steph roped me into a night out. She says I need some balance.’
‘Steph and balance? I’d like to see that. So, I take it you’ve filled her in.’
I still wasn’t sure if that was allowed, but no one had told me otherwise. I shrugged. ‘I’m not going to keep secrets from my best friend.’
He was quiet. It occurred to me that I may have hurt his feelings…again. I was more and more aware of how some of the hateful things I was saying to him must have been affecting him. Not that it was going to stop me. After talking with Steph and then Phoenix yesterday, my anger towards Lincoln was in overdrive.
‘It was different,’ Lincoln mumbled.
I didn’t say anything more and Griffin didn’t get involved in this one. I was just relieved he didn’t object to me having told Steph. Instead, he started meandering around the apartment, looking at the art. He stopped in front of one of my favourite pieces of photography in the living room – an open field in pitch-black night lit by a bolt of lightning, which illuminated the silhouette of the field and a small white gatehouse in the distance. I was glad Griffin appreciated its beauty.
Eventually, Lincoln broke the silence. ‘You should still have someone with you,’ he said, coldly.
‘That’s fine. Phoenix is coming,’ I retorted.
I tried to cover my shock at my willingness to go straight for the low blows by loading dirty cups into the dishwasher. I had to stop and grip the edge of the counter. I was holding on really tightly and I didn’t know if it was due to shame or the need to enforce restraint. Even though part of me realised I was hurting him, I still wanted to. You’re screwed in the head, Vi – absolutely nuts!
Griffin joined us again. ‘We’ll be going out tomorrow to some of the usual haunts to try to track down Joel and Onyx.’
‘I’ll be there,’ I said, before he could ask.
‘You will?’ Lincoln seemed surprised.
‘However I got here, Lincoln, this is what I am now.’
‘That’s settled then,’ Griffin said. ‘If you don’t mind though, Violet, it might be a good idea if one of us stays around until tonigh
t at least.’
I took one look at Griffin and sighed. He was hanging over the back of a chair, so tired he could barely hold his head up. Lincoln was seated on a bar stool, looking anywhere but at me. I got the feeling he didn’t want to be stuck with me any more than I wanted to be stuck with him.
‘I’ll stay,’ he said, without looking up.
I knew if I said I didn’t want him to, Griffin would only offer to stay in his place. ‘Fine,’ I grumped.
Griffin left so quickly it was almost comical. Once upon a time, Lincoln and I would have laughed about it together.
Now, we just moved around the apartment awkwardly, avoiding crossing into each other’s designated space, allowing long silences to stretch. Finally, after pacing the hallway for the seventy-fourth time – yes, I was counting – he came back to sit on the couch opposite me, where I was slowly sipping my third coffee.
‘You know, you don’t have to handle all this on your own. You are allowed to let us help you. We have been through this ourselves.’
My defences reared before I had even realised. ‘Yeah, and I suppose when you found out you were a Grigori, you just took it as a greater calling and ran off to do the trials.’
‘Actually, no.’
I didn’t say anything else, frightened of what might come out of my mouth if I opened it again. Lincoln stood and opened the sliding doors that led to the terrace. I followed him out. I honestly had a moment where I considered not – for fear that I might lose it and throw him over the edge. This isn’t me.
‘My mum was still alive when I found out, but she was sick and struggling to run her business. Griffin found me and kind of took me under his wing. At first I didn’t want anything to do with it. I thought he was some kind of preacher trying to brainwash me into joining a cult.’
‘Didn’t he just use his truth mojo on you?’
‘Eventually. He doesn’t like using it unless he has to. By the time he did, I had started feeling the senses. Not like you did, but enough to produce that déjà vu feeling. That, combined with Griffin’s power, helped me open my eyes to what was going on all around me.’
He looked down, elbows resting on the railing, turning his coffee mug in his hands. ‘My first encounter with an exile was when I realised one had infiltrated Mum’s company. She was sick with cancer and, using glamour and control of her imagination, he persuaded her to redistribute the funds of the business. What was once a company that donated profits to children’s charities and the homeless became a financier of war and weapons. Mum and her whole company were under the illusion they were making good choices for the right reasons. They couldn’t see through all the lies and deceit. Through my essence, I knew there was something wrong. Griffin and Magda helped me work out the rest.’
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