Wow, Caia felt a wave of panic. She had better tread carefully here, or she could find herself locked up, too.
“Well,” she began slowly, throwing the witch a trembling smile. “It can’t be impossible right? I mean, I’m part Midnight and I don’t want to maim any Daylights. I want to end the war.”
Marita seemed to look right through her, reminding Caia that she was still the phlegmatic woman she had met upstairs. “You’re Daylight blood obviously overpowers the bad blood. Not to mention that you were raised Daylight.”
“I understand.” Caia gave her a tight smile, mentally squishing the rush of anger that exploded through her at the ‘bad blood’ comment. “But I just didn’t get a malevolent feeling from her.”
“Perhaps you were too far away.” Marita shrugged.
“Could you take me to her then?”
She was again surprised by the smile bestowed upon her, her eyes trying for kind and concerned. “Will that help? Will it stop whatever anxious thoughts you’ve got buzzing around in your head and get you back out of this room and back into training? You’re missing important things. Lucien is with Rose and the others, training in the simulator.”
Caia tried not to feel as if she had been slapped in the face by the mention of Rose and Lucien, together.
“It would help.”
Marita nodded regally and stood up, walking gracefully to the telephone by Caia’s bed. “Noble, can you please alert the Containment Centre that I’m on my way down with Caia.”
***
She had been right. The Containment Centre – in other words the prison - was situated one level below Lecture Hall A. Bars rolled down from the ceiling as you passed through the ‘reception’, and rows of individual cells, where what looked like plexi-glass (the magikal kind), contained the prisoner rather than bars. Caia wondered at the other occupants who gave off no Midnight trace. They were obviously rogues. She didn’t have time to wonder too long because the trace was electrifying, and sizzled through her even more intensely as Marita drew her to a halt outside a door at the very end of the corridor. It was a huge iron monstrosity with a small rectangle at the top that slid open so you could peer inside.
“She’s in here.” Marita sneered and placed her hand against the door. She muttered an incantation under her breath, obviously forgetting that Caia had supreme hearing.
Occultus atrum unus. Caia repeated the words over in her brain only to have her heart stop at the thought of why. You really do want to play with fire, don’t you?
The door swung slowly open with a forbidding creak, and Marita seemed to prepare herself before entering. Caia followed, only to feel the trace grow even stronger. The sound of the door had frightened the girl.
The door was the only source of light, but Caia could see well with her wolf eyes the hideous conditions of this prisoner’s cell in comparison to the others. She sat huddled in the corner of a bare square stone room, thick iron bars that crackled with electricity (more magik) separating her from any visitors. Her long bedraggled hair covered most of her face and knees as she pulled herself tighter into a ball. The sight of Marita terrified the girl.
A rush of pain hit Caia so fast she cried out and stumbled back.
“Are you alright?” Marita was by her side in an instant.
No, she wasn’t alright. This girl was innocent. Despite her harsh treatment she still held no ill will towards the Daylights. The only person she felt bitter towards was Marita, and yet at the same time she understood why the witch would not believe her. Of all the traces Caia had felt over the past few months, of all the feelings of antipathy towards the war, of actual goodness she thought she was picking up from the Midnights… none of those could touch this young woman for her purity of soul. There was a pearl of blissful warmth in the girl’s trace, something Caia had never encountered before. She tried to push the connection harder to discover what it meant, but all she received were the girl’s thoughts on Vilhelm, the Daylight magik, her friend. Without realising it, she sent Caia an image of his anguished face as she was torn from him by Marita’s men.
Laila. Her name was Laila.
“Caia.” Marita shook her. “Are you alright?”
Goddess, what could she say? Marita’s eyes were narrowed in anxiety.
“Has it done something to you?” She spat, turning to glare daggers at Laila. “If this filth has managed to get her magik past these bars I’m going to have her executed.”
“No!” Caia grabbed her arm in reflex.
Marita turned to look at her slowly, uncertainty flickering across her marble face. “What is going on here?”
Lie, Cy, Lie!
Marita would have her thrown in with the girl if she knew Caia sympathised with her. Marita’s prejudice was too great for her to even contemplate that the continuing war may be a consequence of a horrendous misunderstanding on the Daylights behalf. Caia couldn’t fight this war. Not like this. But what could she do? Her powers had her trapped in it; she was obliged to stay and fight.
But how? And with whom?
One thing she did know: Laila’s time was running out, and somehow Caia had to get her out of the Centre.
She cleared her throat and stood up straight and determined. “I’m sorry. The feelings... she reminded me of Ethan.”
Softness slid back into Marita’s features. “Of course.”
“You were right. A Midnight’s a Midnight. Let’s go.”
Marita nodded militantly and led her out of the cell.
Caia had to forcibly stop herself from looking back at the young woman she was now determined to save.
***
Lucien glanced fretfully down at Rose, who was curled up on the leather sofa in his suite. They had just finished training with Anders and Phoebe, who butted heads so often it was a wonder they were getting anything done. Lucien was worried about Caia. Mordecai mentioned an incident occurring yesterday, but she wouldn’t speak to anyone except Marita, who hadn’t been able to schedule Caia in until today. What is going on with her? He paced back and forth, running an anxious hand through his hair. She had avoided him all day yesterday.
“Lucien, sit down, you’re making me antsy,” Rose laughed, reaching up to pull him down beside her. A wash of guilt ran through him that she was in his room again. Caia wouldn’t even look at him when Rose had insisted on coming into his suite the other night. Nothing had happened between them, but Rose had revealed how terrible she felt for the way she treated him… now that she knew his not mating with her was because he couldn’t, not that he wouldn’t. Talking with her had been as easy and as natural as it used to be. She had listened patiently whilst he told her the story.
“So you and Caia aren’t together?” She had asked quietly once he’d finished.
“No. We’re not.”
Her smile had been so wide that guilt had crashed around him in waves. But he had nothing to feel guilty for! Caia was not his and he was not hers.
And Rose...
He had been crazy about Rose. Being with her the last couple of days only reminded him of the good times they’d had. And she was making it obvious she wouldn’t mind taking a physical trip back down memory lane.
Thing was... Lucien wasn’t sure if he was ready to give up on the hope that Caia would come to her senses and realise they should be together.
“Seriously, Lucien, what is up?”
He shrugged and smiled at her. “Just a little worried about Caia.”
He watched as her full lips fell into a pout. “From what I’ve heard your worry is redundant. She’s a big shot around here. An all powerful genie. Why don’t you stop worrying about Caia and start loosening up a little? I could give you a massage,” she grinned suggestively.
That did sound tempting...
A knock at the door.
“Lucien?”
“Caia?” He shot out of his seat and rushed to the door, throwing it open.
His relief at having her in his sight was washed away by her appe
arance. Her gorgeous eyes were round with worry and sadness, and her long pale hair looked as if she’d been tugging on it in exasperation.
“Thank goddess,” she muttered when she saw him, and walked past him with a familiar caress on his chest that sent heat rushing to his good for nothing places. “I need to talk to you, big time. Lucien, some-”
She had stopped, and he turned to shut the door realising the cause of her disruption was Rose.
“Oh.” She threw her shoulders back, “I didn’t realised you had company.”
Rose stood up from the sofa and smiled weakly. He quirked an eyebrow as he walked towards her. That wasn’t like her. Was she frightened of Caia? Lucien almost laughed out loud at the thought, but then realised it wasn’t so funny. He guessed if he didn’t know her, the idea of Caia, a Midnight/Daylight, lykan/witch, was intimidating, if not a little frightening.
“You remember Rose?” He asked, coming to a stop by his ex-girlfriend whilst trying to catch the eye of his mate so he could determine her feelings. Caia stiffened, and her eyes narrowed on Rose, an Amazon compared to her own small stature. If he wasn’t so worried this was going to cause the rift Marita intended, he’d actually find it funny how un-intimidated Caia appeared by Rose’s height and build.
“How could I forget?”
Was that a sneer? Aw crap, she was pissed.
He felt Rose stiffen next to him and was afraid to look at the expression on her face.
“I’m Lucien’s ex-lover.”
Craaap. Ex lover? That word... it was just so... graphic.
“I see.” Caia nodded, flashing him a hateful look. “Not so ex by the look of things.”
No, no, no, no! He took a placating step towards her. “Now, Ca-”
“Actually,” Rose interrupted, placing a hand on his arm and drawing him back towards her. “We were just discussing that. After all, you two aren’t going to commit to your mating, and Lucien and I would have been mates if he hadn’t been obligated to fulfil his father’s betrothal to you.”
Someone shoot me. Just put a gun to my head and pull the trigger. It would be more humane.
He had squeezed his eyes closed as the words tumbled spitefully out of Rose’s mouth. How could he have forgotten the word bitch was invented by competitive female lykans?
The deafening silence in the room became too much, and he finally worked up the courage to look at Caia’s face.
He wished he hadn’t.
She was gazing at him in pain. A look likened to anguish and regret glittered in her eyes, but her face seemed pinched with resentment at the same time. Classic Caia, however, she never failed to surprise him. She fixed that gaze intently upon him and said, “I always seem to be apologizing to you these days.” She shrugged so wearily he wanted to pull her protectively into his arms. “I am so sorry.”
“What... Caia?” He frowned, gently shrugging Rose’s hand from his arm as he approached her. Anxiety, panic almost, washed over him as she took a few steps back from him.
“I’m sorry... for a lot of things. But mostly, I’m sorry that you got caught up in this more than you ever should have been. My father and yours... what they did was unforgiveable-”
“What they did was for the best... to protect you.”
“What they did was take away your choices.”
“And yours.”
She shook her head sadly, her eyes flickering quickly and bitterly to Rose, and then back to him. “I haven’t lost what you have. I’m sorry you can’t be with the person you want.”
“Caia-”
“Well.” Rose swaggered forward, cutting him off. “We can’t have kids together, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be together. You can still do the right thing here, Caia.”
Irritation ripped through Lucien as he watched Caia grow paler by the second. “Rose,” he warned, a growl rumbling from the base of his chest. She merely shrugged at him, all wide-eyed innocence.
“I’m going to go,” Caia managed softly and started for the door.
That was enough.
Lucien took three long strides towards her, grabbing her by the arm and turning her towards him. Still she refused to meet his eye, until he gave her a little shake.
“I have a meeting with Mordecai. Let go.”
“Lucien?” Rose asked uncertainly from behind him. He tried to ignore her, concentrating on getting Caia to acknowledge that she was pissed at him and there was a reason. She was jealous. Because she was his mate. Not Rose.
“Caia, you’re being an idiot.”
Suddenly she flushed red, and he realised he had said the wrong thing. With a strength belying her size, she ripped herself from his grip, her green eyes blazing with renewed energy. “Yeah, I guess I was. But I’m all good now.”
“You’ve obviously gotten the wrong-”
She laughed humourlessly, cutting him off. “You know what, Lucien? I think you’re forgetting that I’m in the middle of a war here. I’m a very important person, don’t you know. I don’t have time to deal with your guilt issues over moving on from our little mating. I moved on months ago, and now you have. Nothing to feel bad about.” She tilted her head to smile at Rose. “I’m happy for you both.”
And with that she was gone.
She thought he loved Rose? She had moved on? She thought he had moved on? How could she think that after everything...
The pack means everything to me, and I won’t have anything to do with someone who puts it last. I don’t want a mate like you. Not ever.
He had said those awful words to her in the motel room before they rescued Jaeden. Could she really have believed he had meant them?
Yes.
Shit.
Marita – 1, Lucien – 0
***
She couldn’t breathe. The pain was that bad. She couldn’t cry. The heat of her anger had dried them all up.
Lucien loved Rose.
A brittle disquiet had captured her body as she sat perched on the side of her bed. She could feel herself shutting down, her walls shooting up, locking her soul in and the world out. A deep retreat was in progress and she shivered, feeling the icy blockade settle around her.
In that moment she loathed her magik blood. A lykan would be tearing the room to shreds, expelling their ire from their body like sucking poison from a snake bite. Half-heartedly she turned to the lamp that sat on her bedside table and lifted it slowly with her magik. With a flick of her eyes she sent it speeding into the fireplace and took a momentary satisfaction in the way its destruction caused the flames to flare up and out, displaying their anger in the way she wanted to. But there would be no white heat from this pain, no involuntary destruction of property. This was a kind of suffering she wanted to hide from.
With a shuddering breath the tears began to fall.
So it had happened. She had fallen in love with Lucien. Maybe she had always been in love with him. How could she love him when he didn’t love her back? How could he stand to be around her when she was the reason he couldn’t have children with the beautiful red-head?
It felt like she sat there for hours, broken porcelain badly glued together. She could either fall deeper inside herself to escape the thought of Lucien with Rose, or she could fall deeper into a problem she might be able to fix. Laila’s image wavered in her mind. She had gone to Lucien to finally confide in him, to ask him to help her get Laila out, to tell him that after they helped the MacLachlans she was leaving the Centre, that she was no longer fighting for Marita. The beginnings of a plan were forming in her mind - it wasn’t much, but so far it was all she had. It was all Laila had. It was all the next generation had if she was going to be able to enforce the beginning of the end of a millennia-old racial war.
“Caia?”
She bolted upright at the sound of Mordecai on the other side of her door, and jumped off the bed, flicking her wrist to replace the lamp she had broken, wiping her hand across her face to glamour away any evidence of her crying.
“Mordecai,�
� she greeted him brightly and gestured for him to come into the room. He regarded her with an odd little smile as he took a seat.
“Are you alright?”
“Of course.”
“Marita said you visited the Midnight.”
Caia’s smile tightened. “Yeah. I was curious.”
He grinned back at her. “I wondered what had happened in the lecture hall. I keep forgetting you’re the true Head of the Midnights.”
“I’ve been hearing that a lot.”
“Well, I just came up to fill you in on training today.”
Caia nodded and listened patiently as he explained the strategies that had been utilised in the woodland simulator.
“I’ve never worked with Anders before but he’s an extremely good leader.” Mordecai laughed as if remembering something. “Of course, he and Marion have been placed in charge of the taskforce but Phoebe has other ideas. I don’t think her and Anders like each other very much.”
“Sounds like I missed some drama.”
He nodded, and then seemed to grow quiet.
Eventually…“Caia...?”
She frowned. This was the first time the self-assured magik looked uncomfortable and unsure. “Yeah?”
“The simulator... well... after your run in it the other night, there was some energy picked up around a certain oak?”
She flushed. Oh dear. How to explain that one?
“I uh...”
“Was it you?”
There was nothing to do but be honest. And she knew she could trust Mordecai.
“Yes. I’m so sorry. I just... got angry. And killed it. I replaced it, though.” She threw him an imploring smile.
Mordecai grinned back at her. “Yes, you did.”
Caia watched as he took his glasses off to rub a smudge from the lens. “Was it deliberate?”
“No.”
“Cy, I know what you did to Ethan.”
“Do you, cos’ I don’t,” she quipped, but he only smiled at her like he pitied her.
“The tree? Was it an unfortunate victim of your anger over Rose and Lucien?”
River Cast: Part Two in the Tale of Lunarmorte Page 11