Morning's Light (Cavaldi Birthright Book 2)

by Brea Viragh

  The murmurs grew in cadence until their volume blotted out the world. Aisanna ducked, holding her ears with a cry. She slammed on the brakes although the car remained in park.

  “What the hell is going on?” she yelled, trying to hear her own voice.

  The world stopped. Time came to a standstill; air froze in a cloud above her face. The last few weeks, what with her sister, the mess with the wild magic, the supernatural stalker, and trying to get back to a new normal, Aisanna felt like she had been holding her breath, without knowing why she was doing it. Like she was waiting for her reality to fade around her. A daydream.

  Calm never lasted forever.

  Now she understood. Really understood. It was time to start taking things seriously. Unfortunately, the realization kicked in when it was too late to react.

  Her body didn’t belong to her anymore. She urged her hands to grasp the wheel, to shift into drive and get away from whatever presence weighed on her soul. She urged her vocal cords to scream. The moment stretched on. The windshield stirred as though it were a blanket shaking itself out, and then went still.

  Her attention flicked down to the seat when she felt it move beneath her. For an instant, reality slipped, went askew. Righted itself within seconds. She saw the error as clearly as she saw the shadowy figure crouched on top of her hood. One who hadn’t been there before and shouldn’t have been there at all. She couldn’t make out its face and her brain struggled to make sense of the scene. Then her blood became ice in her veins.

  The car was silent. The connection between her mind and body had been severed. Was the figure controlling her? Everything was wrong.

  The shadow was the only thing in the world still able to move, cocking its ephemeral head to the side. Aisanna’s heart began to pound against her ribs.

  Something was very, very wrong.

  Fear surged through her with nowhere to go. No outlet for the adrenaline boiling her from the inside out. There was something odd about the shadow. Something fluid and otherworldly. If the thing had been human once…it wasn’t now.

  The One Who Walks in Darkness was back.

  Time crawled. Silence stretched. She couldn’t turn her head, her eyes focused on the darkness. Dust and dirt flew up outside in a cyclone around the car, and the shadow bent sideways. Fear was a crashing wave, coming in surges. Light burst behind her eyes and the world rumbled like something was trying to break through. She knew something bad was happening. Just wasn’t clear on what.

  How could she have been so stupid as to think her problems were over? That they’d defeated the swell of rogue magic coming for them before the eclipse? It was here, in front of her. Here, and grotesquely out of place. Slowly, the shadow’s fist came through the windshield, forcing through the elements and pushing the thick air out of the way to reach Aisanna. The glass broke and snapped. The mechanisms of the car were crushed. Destroyed. Yet she remained, the emotional damage done.

  Darkness knew this would hurt more.

  She wished she could turn her head, or call someone to come help her. Her mind rushed for a spell. An angry piece of something to break her out of the stupor and rip Darkness to pieces.

  Bells began to pound in her ears. The sound came faster and faster. When she prepared to give in to panic, it was done. A tremendous burst of reality that returned the car to normal. Without warning, the shadow vanished. She crumpled forward the instant the thing disappeared, her arms, back, and legs cramped and devoid of strength.

  Aisanna drew in a huge breath in a mix of relief and agony while the wind outside flailed leaves and debris from the ground. She focused on the movement. Struggled to draw air into her lungs. Tears stung and she would have given anything to rewind, to tell herself not to be so damn complacent. She should have taken precautions.

  Darkness wasn’t done with them. Sure, nothing terrible had happened. This time.

  Next time she wouldn’t be so lucky.

  **

  Elon stayed later than usual, trying to finish a few miscellaneous items on his checklist. He had no place better to be and really didn’t mind putting in the extra hours. Anything he could do to ease the boss’s workload. Johan called him pussy-whipped without the benefit of ever having the first part.

  So be it.

  When he glanced up from the computer, night had settled over the city. Stars winked to life in a cold, heartless sky, and his stomach growled a warning. A hungry protestation telling him in no uncertain terms that he’d missed dinner.

  He rubbed a hand over his abdomen to settle it. This wouldn’t be the first time he’d gotten lost in his head and forgotten to feed the beast. Surely it wouldn’t be the last. He reached into a back pocket to pull out a candy bar, ripping through the wrapper and tearing half off in a large bite. Sugar slapped his taste buds, the taste so delicious he wanted to cry.

  Never underestimate the power of a good piece of chocolate.

  He quietly set the storefront to rights, munching away, and shrugged his arms into the warm fleece coat hanging near the back door. Through the dim light, he could see Aisanna’s car still parked across the way. Headlight beams cut through the empty lot and fell on a nearby dumpster.

  What is going on? Aisanna never stayed parked if she had plans. She kept herself busy and on a tight schedule. What was she still doing here?

  Elon locked up then stepped toward the car, though it took him a minute to notice the slight figure slumped behind the wheel, head turned at an odd angle.

  “Jesus!” He sprinted the rest of the short distance and lifted his hand to tap on the glass. “Hey, hey! Wake up.”

  Aisanna sat inside the running car, her delicate build drooped to the side and her mouth hanging wide open. Elon had one hand in his pocket ready to call 9-1-1 when he noticed she was breathing, her chest rising and falling rhythmically.

  “Aisanna, wake up. Aisanna!” His nerves felt like he’d just eaten a piece of metal instead of chocolate. It took multiple frantic knocks for her to jerk forward. Her head snapped up and knocked against the steering wheel.

  She winced in pain. Elon tugged at the door and found it locked. He fished around for his phone and clicked on the flashlight app, flashing it against the car window and watching her pupils contract.

  She gasped, one hand shooting up to cover her mouth. At least she was alive.

  He fumbled for something to help jimmy open the door. Sometimes, it felt to Elon like they’d known each other for a thousand years. He knew her every gesture, every expression gracing her beautiful face. He saw them in his mind: the terse smile, tight at the edges, the lips barely parted when Johan said something stupid; her squint when she stared over his shoulder, blotting out the rest of the world and bringing his work into focus.

  But he’d never seen the look on her face he saw then. There was fear around her wide eyes. Pain evident in the thin press of her lips. There was concern, but not for him. There was something else, too. Guardedness, like a lock clicked shut over a treasure box. And through it all…terror. Sharp, sparkling terror.

  “Are you okay?” His voice did not seem to reach her. “Answer me. Are you all right?”

  “Ugh…where am I?” she grumbled, her words slurred and slow to come.

  Elon propped his head against the window, shielding his eyes to get a better look. There was no broken glass. No clouds of carbon monoxide or smoke in the interior. Had she taken something?

  “Are you okay?” he repeated. “You’ve been out here for hours. I thought you’d gone home for the night.”

  “Hours?”

  “How about you unlock the door and let me in?”

  Aisanna rubbed her forehead, disoriented. “I was supposed to already be at home.”

  “You’re still in your car. Now unlock the damn door.” Rarely did he demand anything, and never of her. This definitely qualified as an extenuating circumstance.

  Hearing the click of the lock disengaging, he took it upon himself to throw the door wide. He knelt beside her and tu
rned the key in the ignition to cut off the motor. A dull hush filled the air.

  “God, you could have frozen to death if you hadn’t left the heat on. Did you have some sort of attack? How is your pulse? Let me know if you feel lightheaded.”

  He reached for her hand and she yanked it back, shaking despite the warmth. She rebutted with a question of her own. “How long have I been out here?”

  “Well, you walked out the door around six, so I’d have to say you were here for at least two hours.” Elon spared a glance at his watch. “It’s a little past eight now.”

  “Two hours? Are you kidding me?”

  “Please, tell me what happened.”

  “If I knew, I would.” She bit the inside of her lip. “Trust me, if I knew…”

  “I’ll get you some water.” He tugged her hand until she rose out of her seat. Willing his heart to slow, he took her in, starting from her toes and working his way to the tips of her ears. Already her color had returned to normal.

  “What?” She gave her head a toss and turned to size him up in return. “What are you looking at?”

  “I’m making sure everything looks normal.” He pressed his thumb against her wrist and mouthed the seconds while he took her pulse.

  “It’s fine. I’m fine. I must have dozed off.” Movement belied her words when she stumbled and would have tripped over her own feet had Elon not been there to catch her.

  “Sure,” he agreed sarcastically. “Let’s just get you that water.”

  Disoriented, she allowed him to lead her back inside. With a single jiggle, he removed his key from his pocket, stepping aside and holding the door open for her. Soon they were in the back room with Elon moving to the prep sink and grabbing a clean glass. A moment later, he handed her the glass and watched her gulp down the whole thing.

  Aisanna wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “You’re trying to tell me it’s really eight o’clock at night. I lost two hours of my time. Poof. Gone like smoke. This isn’t a prank?”

  Elon peered at her, seeing faint, murky spheres under her eyes. They stood out against her pale skin like someone had given her a knockout punch.

  In his mind, she was too strong to look damaged and unnerved. Whatever happened in the car had deeply rattled her. Too deeply for his liking.

  “It’s eight o’clock at night,” she repeated. Like she wanted him to tell her it was nothing but a joke.

  “It is.” Elon leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

  She lashed out at him with anger, her defensive response. “What are you still doing here? Were you watching me?”

  Tonight, he didn’t blame her. “Maybe I should have been.” Instead of responding heatedly, Elon took a breath and kept his distance. No good would come from pushing her. “I don’t know what you saw out there. I’ve been inside finishing up the books for the catering affair next week, along with a few last-minute details. You looked tired when you left. I didn’t think you’d want to deal with it tomorrow.”

  Calm and steady, he told himself. Get her relaxed and don’t pry. Don’t pry! God help him, it was harder than it should have been.

  “Well, aren’t you an apple polisher?”

  His gaze hardened. “I thought I was saving you some work.”

  Aisanna sighed and gave a curt nod. “That’s fine,” she said slowly. “I’m sorry.”

  She drained the last sips of water before setting the cup down on the counter. The sounds of the shop were a balm to her nerves. They listened intently to the constant hum of the refrigeration units, the occasional clink from the heater. There were no spooky voices echoing in the halls or in her mind.

  Everything was as it should be. Which meant sleep deprivation had done some very strange things to her.

  “Did someone hurt you? Maybe we should call the police. You look like someone—”

  “No police.” They wouldn’t understand. Witches had their own governmental body in place to handle these matters. And no way did Aisanna want the Claddium alerted to this newest batch of weirdness. “I think I’m ready to go home.”

  “I’ll drive you.” Elon dug in his pocket for a separate keychain attached to a fob at the end. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”

  “I can handle a ten-minute commute, thank you very much, Mr. Fayer.”

  “I insist. It would be my pleasure. Besides, who knows if your car would make it, anyway,” he joked.

  He watched the war taking place in her psyche. On one hand, she recognized her own vulnerability and part of her wanted to take advantage of his offered kindness. On the other, she was just plain stubborn. He admired both but wished she would go with the former instead of the latter.

  At last, she agreed. “Fine. Just don’t turn this into some kind of white knight thing. I couldn’t handle it.” She turned her nose up at him and strode toward the door, her grand exit marred when she lost her footing and fell against a table.

  Elon hurried forward and took her arm to steady her. “My mother raised me right. Do you want me to catch hell if she finds out I let you go home by yourself? Do it as a favor to me. I don’t want a tongue-lashing the next time she calls and asks me how you’re doing.”

  Her eyes shifted and pinned him. “As a favor?”

  “Yes.”

  She didn’t say another word. They walked around the block to where he’d parked, his awareness focused on her arm in his hand, the brush of her body against his. If he didn’t touch her now, he was afraid he would break down under the weight of his worry. His fingers tightened of their own accord.

  Pull yourself together, Fayer. Don’t let her think you’re getting close to cop a feel when she’s acting loopy.

  He took her in, the angles of her face, coupled with the odd blue, green, and amber eyes gleaming in the light of a hazy gibbous moon. Despite the years separating them, Elon knew he would rather die than be without her.

  He wished she felt the same way about him.

  “Get in and I’ll let her warm up a bit. The engine does strange things in the cold.” He opened the passenger door and helped her onto the worn leather bucket seat of the rebuilt Karmann Ghia, a hobby project shared between him and his father. “After you, milady.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” The look she sent him was meant to appear stern at first glance, but it hid a fair share of gratitude along with amusement. It would have felled a lesser man’s heart. Instead, his turned over.

  He made sure the door was shut and locked before returning to the driver’s seat. “You don’t need to give me the address. I know where it is. Just try to relax.”

  “And how do you know where my apartment is?”

  “How long have we known each other? You’ve had me deliver mail when you were out of town. Or have you forgotten?”

  “Oh, jeez. Ignore me tonight. I’m obviously out of my mind.”

  “I’m glad I stayed late.”

  “If you act any more concerned,” she told him softly, “you’re going to make me twitchy.”

  “Never worked on you before,” he countered.

  His jest had the desired effect when her lips drew up in a small smile.

  They drove in silence toward her place. She didn’t question how he maintained a consistent five miles per hour below the speed limit. He wanted to speak, to offer some sort of platitude to help her feel better. He kept his thoughts to himself and felt the weight of her gaze on him for those first few miles. Then her exhaustion became too much to handle. She closed her eyes and Elon listened to her breathe.

  Nothing was the way he’d expected it to be.

  At last, he pulled up to the curb in front of her building. “Do you want me to walk you to the door?”

  “No. Thank you. I appreciate you finding me. Driving me home.”

  “Anytime.”

  They said their goodnights and she felt him watch her while she walked to the front door. You are a tough cookie, she reminded herself.r />
  She managed the three flights of stairs without assistance and let herself into the apartment, closing the door behind her. The familiar scents and sights of her space were a balm.

  There she gave in to her exhaustion and sank to the floor.

  She fell asleep, keys in hand and her head resting on the wood.

  CHAPTER 3

  Ten degrees. It felt like five-below with the wind chill—a typical frigid Chicago winter. Spring bobbed around the corner but couldn’t come fast enough. Especially not when her heating bill skyrocketed and the apartment she rented didn’t have in-floor heating.

  Aisanna woke in the wee hours of the morning freezing cold with a crick in her neck and throbbing in her bones. Her mouth tasted stale, like she’d munched on an entire box worth of cardboard. She ran her tongue along fuzzy teeth. It took some time to realize where she was and wonder at her own inability to make it down the hall to her bedroom.

  Had she gotten such a scare she couldn’t manage the ten extra feet? Or was it laziness? Probably the latter.

  She rose with a groan, every inch of her cold and numb. A tingle spread through her limbs when blood began to circulate. She eased down the hallway and her body protested each step of the way.

  She drifted down to the pillowtop mattress. Turning over, she noted the curtains were open. Her fingertips crept across the bed until it became too much effort to reach any further. Yeah, they would have to stay open. Icy light from the moon bleached the clouds bone-white and played over the stained carpet.

  It was a reminder of her numbered days. She flexed her fingers, and her ever-present magic sent heat spiraling upward from her core. A magic she’d almost lost for good, thanks to a psychopath with a death wish. Sadly, the late and never-truly-great Herodotos, the man who’d tried to curse her and her family, had had a point. The eclipse was coming and with it, a thinning of the veil separating their world from the world of ancient magicks. The place where witches and wizards drew their powers.