Morning's Light (Cavaldi Birthright Book 2)

by Brea Viragh

  Bubbles of pain released in her knees and elbows, finally unbending after too long in stasis. Tears of relief burned in her eyes. She was awake. She was alive. It was over.

  For now.

  It took her several minutes to extract herself from the hot and smelly confines of the dumpster. She used her magic to help her and felt a little like Spiderman as vines attached and drooped from an overhanging fire escape. Wrapping them around her wrists, Aisanna hoisted herself over the edge of the bin, her bare feet plopping to the ground and peels of long-eaten fruit falling in a ring around her.

  She glanced down at her arm and quickly away from the lines of script; the scabs had peeled off, showing shiny pink skin underneath.

  The image of a man flashed through her mind, accompanied by a blinding light and the sting of a headache. Real or a dream, she was unsure. It may have been one of her visions, although the man looked nothing like Vane. Who the hell was he, then?

  Her fist curled. Aisanna took great care to unroll her fingers one by one as she stared at the appendage. Flecks of glitter adorned her skin, as well as the telltale freckles of dried blood. Hers?

  She needed to get home, and fast. Already the chilly air infiltrated her skin and turned her blood to ice. How had she managed to survive the night without a coat?

  On bare feet she tiptoed to the head of the alley, and she shielded her eyes from the blinding glare of the winter sun. Around her people went on about their business, the street lined with families, couples, and children, laden with shopping bags. Only a few spared her a glance and wrinkled their noses at the sight and scent of her. Some shot her a look, its meaning clear.

  Why are you here ruining our day?

  Aisanna held her head high and marched down the sidewalk, each step bringing physical pain to a new height. Never mind the embarrassment or the emotional turmoil.

  It took her a little longer to determine her whereabouts: the Gold Coast, minutes from Israel’s house. Coincidence? She didn’t think so. Though what it meant she wasn’t sure.

  He would not appreciate her showing up at his doorstep. Not in the least. Considering the time and day, he might not even be home. Or if he was home, probably sleeping off a night of debauchery. Aisanna decided to take the chance and risk his wrath. It sure beat walking home covered in trash.

  She ignored the stares and harsh words whispered under strangers’ breath as she continued toward Israel’s apartment. The man at the front door, with more muscles in his arms than Aisanna had in her entire body, took her in with one look and shook his head, refusing to let her in.

  She moved to the voice box instead, pressing the button for Israel’s apartment and blocking out the gagging sounds from her friend at the door.

  It took longer than she expected, hoped for, but Israel answered, interrupted sleep in his tone.

  “What?” he asked, somewhat nastily.

  “Israel…”

  “Aisanna? You better have a damn good reason for showing up here without calling.”

  She sighed and ran a hand over her forehead, smearing some substance she’d rather not think about. “I have a very good reason. Will you please let me inside?”

  “Why should I? You have a home. Go there instead.”

  Wow, endearing. Classic Israel. “I’d rather not get into it with Freddy listening out here. Unless you want the whole building to know. I’m pregnant!”

  She used the female excuse to her advantage, the surprise acting as her ticket inside.

  Israel said nothing, just buzzed her inside moments later. Aisanna shot a triumphant look at Freddy the doorman and swiveled around him, making sure to graze close enough to have him shirking away in disgust.

  She hurried to the elevator and pressed the button for the fifth floor.

  The machine dinged and opened its doors to reveal the fifth floor, no different from the others aside from a brass plate with the number five. Aisanna trudged down the worn multicolored carpet as she’d done a thousand times before and stopped beside apartment 8C. Intricate purple and green wallpaper in muted hues adorned the walls of the hall and reminded her of a scene from The Shining.

  She knocked on the door and the door opened almost as soon as her knuckles left the wood. Israel leaned against the threshold half-clothed and sent her a well-practiced come-hither grin. He worked on occasion, i.e. whenever he felt like it, as a volunteer firefighter. Aisanna still wasn’t sure what he did for money, or whether he caused more fires than he put out.

  He wore a set of flannel pajama bottoms with little red and orange flames running up the legs. A white tank top completed the ensemble.

  “Are you serious?” He gestured toward her outfit. “Lady Gaga can pull off the garbage look. You can’t. I don’t want to let you inside, pregnant or not. Does that make me a bad person?”

  Aisanna peered around his shoulder at the sweet sight of carpet and the lingering smell of coffee. “I’m not pregnant. Please, let me in so I can get to the shower. I…I had a rough night.”

  “Why should I let you in? Do you have any idea how much my carpet cleaning bill will be?”

  “You are a barrel of laughs today. I’ve lost the last twelve hours of my life and woke up in a dumpster.” She shifted to hide the scars on her arms and chest. “It’s been a bad couple of weeks and I need a shower. If you don’t mind.” She peeled an orange rind off her shoulder and held it out to him.

  Israel sneered and stepped back. “If you get garbage on anything—”

  “I’ll end up on my hands and knees playing maid for you,” she supplied. “Yeah, I got it.”

  He left her alone as she showered. She sank into the heat of the jets and let her head drop to the tile. Whatever happened to her last night, she remembered nothing. A few fleeting images here and there that, when she tried to focus on them, slipped away like oil on water.

  Dirt and debris floated down the drain and she watched the swirl of it.

  The last thing she remembered was watching Elon drive away like he was being chased. The pink camellias—and their meaning—were burned into her mind. After that…there was nothing but an endless sea of black and a voice echoing in the depths of her mind.

  Her voice? If not hers, then who did it belong to?

  She was being used, and she knew why. Somehow, Darkness had managed to get hold of her. Had taken her out for a night on the town, with Aisanna a passenger to her own life.

  Lather bubbled on her skin and she scrubbed, scouring her body with heat and soap until she cleansed herself of the sins permeating her cells. Nothing she did was enough. The sense lingered after she rubbed herself to the point of rawness. Her skin turned pink and sensitive until the slightest touch tingled unpleasantly.

  A single sob escaped her throat and she sank to the shower floor to draw her knees up and rest her head there. The spray continued to beat down in a torrent of scouring pellets, like acid rain, anything to beat away her memory of the past night.

  Or rather, lack thereof.

  Never in her wildest imaginings would she guess Darkness was capable of taking over one of them while the veil still stood. Cause mayhem beyond the usual, sure. Make life a living hell, absolutely. But possession? The eclipse was more than a month away. Was the veil shredding faster than they all knew?

  If Darkness could possess her body, what else could it do? Force her to rob a bank or blow up a house? To kill someone? The list went on, each possible scenario worse than the one before.

  Her head was down when the shower curtain whipped aside with a clink of rollers. “What the hell are you doing? Running up my water bill?” Israel watched her, well away from the spray of water.

  “You don’t pay for water.” Rivulets wound down her lips, wetting her words.

  “If you wanted to warm up, you know I can accommodate. Your skin is turning red.”

  She didn’t care. She could hardly feel it anymore. Detachment took over and she lost herself to her own misery.

  Israel shut the water off an
d tossed a towel in her direction. “Here. Dry yourself off. I’d say you can stay but I do have some business to take care of today. I’ve got a lunch date and a meeting with my father later.”

  “Fine. Whatever you say.”

  It didn’t bother her. She’d expected the forced evacuation. At times Israel was warm and caring, to the point where she reconsidered their weekly rendezvous for casual sex and thought about a permanent arrangement. Other times, like now, his icy demeanor directly contrasted with his fire magic and set her mind at ease. She’d made the right choice by keeping it casual.

  The status quo remained.

  She peered up at him, wrapping the towel around her midsection. Today his suit cost more than the rest of his wardrobe combined. Charcoal-colored pressed wool pants blended seamlessly with a tailored silk shirt and red power tie.

  She thought briefly of Elon and his second-hand ensemble from the night before. He’d dressed up just because. The two were on opposite ends of the spectrum.

  “Do you think I can borrow a shirt and some pants? You’ll excuse me if I don’t feel like putting my trash clothes back on,” she said.

  Israel waved her away, his eyes riveted on the swell of her breasts. She wrapped the towel tighter. “I already burned them. I have a few shirts, maybe they’ll fit you, and an old coat I was going to throw out anyway. Take your pick.”

  “How charming of you,” she commented sourly. Aisanna padded out of the bathroom and headed toward the bed. A pile of multicolored clothing had been flung haphazardly among the tangled sheets. “I do appreciate it, of course.”

  “Of course,” Israel repeated. He watched her from the door, one hip cocked to the side. “Maybe you let the towel drop and we’ll have a go at it? I can push my shit back for an hour or so. Especially if you make good on the maid idea. I like you on your knees.”

  “Despite your delightful offer, I have to get home.”

  Her first course of action was clear. It was back to the books, which meant she needed her sisters. She needed to find a way to keep Darkness from executing a full body takeover. The best place to search for that kind of information was the family library. Step one.

  “Are you sure?” Israel took a step forward, loosening his tie.

  “Positive.”

  “Seriously? You come in here smelling horrible, dirty my shower, and refuse the boom-boom? Baby, that’s cold.”

  “I have some business to take care of myself.” Aisanna belted the coat and stared at Israel. The garment hung loosely around her shoulders, meant for a person double her size. Still, it would offer good protection from the cold. Much better than anything else in the meager pile. “Got any wool socks?” At least that would provide some protection for her feet.

  He turned and retrieved a pair from a bureau, then watched as she sat on his bed to put the socks on.

  His grin spread slowly from ear to ear. “You look good enough to eat.”

  Aisanna sighed, looping her wet hair on top of her head and securing it with a spare pin. “Sorry. I need to go. Thanks for the shower.”

  Israel walked her to the door, mainly because he was going in the same direction. Aisanna didn’t care. Despite the shower, she felt unclean. The remnants of her lost night came back in flashes, bright reds and golds, fluorescent signs she could no more make out than the faces she saw. The man in a grey coat.

  She smacked her head sharply, stopping before Israel could catch the movement.

  They parted ways on the sidewalk, their breaths rising in white clouds. Israel never kissed her in public, instead bestowing her with a friendly pat on the back and a look in his eyes promising more to come later. She could give or take the contact, honestly. Sex was the last thing on her mind considering what had happened. She needed her control back.

  She walked away in the borrowed socks and tried not to consider the damage to her nerves if she didn’t recharge her healing batteries.

  It took several blocks to regret her decision to walk and another half block to smack herself in the head for the third, fourth, and fifth time. She should have had Israel call her a cab. It would have been much easier to owe him the money than hoof it to her shop.

  By the time she reached the familiar façade, she no longer felt her legs up to the knees. Israel’s coat luckily kept the rest of her warm.

  She’d made the executive decision to keep her shop closed through the weekend and a few extra days past. Until she felt well enough to handle the orders along with the rest of the shit in her life.

  Her surprise shot through the roof when she reached her building and found the lights on.

  “Oh no, absolutely not.” She hurried forward. “Absolutely not.” Peering inside the door, she began to knock furiously on the glass. At long last, a dark head appeared from the storage room.

  Her brows drew together as she watched Elon unlock the bolt and draw the door open. “What the hell are you doing? We’re closed today. We’re closed tomorrow, and the next day, and the next until I call and tell you to come in. You don’t open by yourself without my permission.” She stared at him with a mixture of confusion and anger. “I’m going to have to rethink the key situation. Especially since I can’t figure out anything to warrant you being here today while we’re closed. This is not what I expect from my employees, Mr. Fayer.” Aisanna pushed past him and she barreled into the store in a fluster of energy.

  “As you can see, I never switched the sign over and the front door was locked.” Elon stood back and let her pass before turning the bolt again and sealing them inside. “I didn’t want to be in my house. There are too many things to think about while I’m there alone. It was easier to come in and focus on the bookkeeping.”

  “I can’t condone that.” She made her way tentatively to a stool behind the counter and eased onto it, resting her head in her hands. “There are insurance issues to think about.”

  “Well, I’m sorry,” he said, admonished. “I didn’t realize I was out of bounds.”

  “The next time you want to go somewhere and think, how about you do it at a coffee shop? Or the local library? Hell, a mall or a restaurant. Somewhere that is not owned by me!”

  She peered through her fingers at her stock. Everything was in its place. No, there probably weren’t any issues there. Still, she needed a way to get her point across and scare him without being physically intimidating.

  “Next time, I will. I don’t know what else I can say to you. I’m sorry.”

  Elon at once took in her appearance, the ice crystals clinging to her still-wet hair and the soaked socks below. He moved swiftly, gathering towels from the supply closet.

  “You sit there. Please. Your feet are blocks of ice. What are you doing, walking around outside without shoes? Are you trying to catch your death?” Elon stared her down and gestured again for her to relinquish her feet. After a few moments of a silent standoff, Aisanna sighed.

  “I never knew you were such a pill.” Her voice had the rapid-fire thump of a machine gun, but that was probably due to attempting to keep her teeth from chattering. “You’ve always been easygoing before this. You never gave me any problems.”

  “There are hidden depths to everyone, let me assure you.”

  “I’ll have to take your word on it.”

  “What happened to you?” He busied himself wrapping towels around her feet. “Did you decide it was a beautiful day for a barefoot stroll?”

  She couldn’t tell him, not now, perhaps not ever. Her arches and soles tingled under his ministrations and she nearly sighed when his fingers traveled lightly over her skin to bring blood back to the extremities.

  “Sure, a stroll. I went out on the town and forgot my shoes. Silly me. I don’t know what I was thinking. You got me so worked up last night that—”

  At the mention of the night before, they both stilled. Aisanna tensed, waiting for his unkind words, a reminder. Her kind had been hunted before.

  “So…have you reached a decision yet?” She hated herself f
or asking. “About me?”

  “Not yet. But I’m trying. Believe me, I’ve been trying. I barely got any sleep last night.”

  She knew the feeling. Aisanna turned her head to the side and focused on something besides her own feelings.

  He was gentle as he washed her arches, using warm water from the sink and a spare towel. Despite the shower, there were spirals of grit working their way deeper into her skin. Small scrapes and abrasions that were nothing serious but could be without attention.

  “I didn’t realize I’d upset you with my reaction. I thought I kept mum on a lot of things. Hurtful things I realize now were inappropriate and ignorant.” Elon forced himself to still and shot a cursory glance at her face. Lines trailing from the corners of her eyes to her chin were evidence of her hard night, a testament to whatever she’d been through.

  He’d spent too many hours confused beyond all reckoning, trying desperately to believe—to imagine—there were other things in the world besides what he knew to be true. Magic was real.

  In the end, no, he couldn’t hate her. Not for keeping a secret. Fear went the way of hate. None were in his nature.

  “I didn’t think it would bother me, your reaction. It hurt more than I want to admit. You finding out about me…there’s a certain relief there. A weight I’m not carrying around anymore. Make no mistake, though. There are certain things I can’t tell you,” she said, closing her eyes against the contact of cloth. “Things that could put you in real danger.”

  “Beyond knowing about witches?”

  “Way, way beyond.”

  “Does it have to do with the other plane of existence you told me about?”

  She shot him a look, and Elon quieted. She accepted him, he mused. And he accepted a view of the world bigger than what he’d been taught to believe. He accepted magic.

  It fit, really. It fit Aisanna because everything about her sparkled. She was more than a normal woman. The glow of magic was evident in everything she said and did. Everything she was. She’d never been ordinary.

  When he thought about everything, it made sense. How could he have missed it before? Elon had spent hours feeling deceived, and an equal amount of time blaming his own blindness.