Fate Walks (Cavaldi Birthright Book 1)

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Fate Walks (Cavaldi Birthright Book 1) Page 22

by Brea Viragh

“You found it in your bed,” Thorvald reiterated. “This stick.”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “And this man in the black sweatshirt. You saw him at your window? How many days ago?” Thorvald asked. “Does he have anything to do with the curse?”

  She started at the concern there. “Three days ago. Although I think he’s been here more often, maybe last night.”

  “I don’t think it’s safe for you to stay where you are,” her father said. He groaned.

  “What?”

  “Nothing, just another kick from this damn rune. I…I need to go.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “Find them,” he demanded. The line went dead.

  Her fear turned to dread. “This is my fault, all my fault.” Rooting through her clothes, Astix found a pair of leather bike pants and a thick sweater. She donned her jacket over those and raced to the front door. Keys jingled in her pocket.

  Pushing aside a desire to call Leo, she revved the engine on her motorbike. This was her mess, she reminded herself grimly, and she needed to finish what she’d started. Her sisters were in trouble because of her.

  Not knowing where to begin, she let herself drive until some plan or clue or feeling came to her. A tinted visor blocked her face from the wind and elements as she sped along. She decided the city and the blocks surrounding the Claddium office would be a good place to start.

  And there was Karsia’s powder-blue Volkswagen, parked in the exact same spot from last night.

  Okay, focus. Were they still here? Still waiting for Astix to come out? She scoured the surroundings but found nothing. They weren’t here, but had apparently never left. Or perhaps hadn’t left of their own accord?

  Her starting point led to nothing but more questions and concerns. Surely if Aisanna and Karsia had been caught inside the building, Leo would have known about it. It seemed illogical that he wouldn’t mention it. So where the hell are they?

  Astix took off again and let her power guide her. When her instincts told her to take a left, she did. She tapped into crystals embedded in the earth beneath the surface of the road, utilizing their strength. Through them, she caught a slight whisper of energy—Karsia’s—winding through the streets away from the city center.

  She leaned into the wind and pushed the bike to higher speed as she took the highway. The path was clear, illuminated as brightly as neon paint. Yes, she would find them.

  With the flick of a blinker, she moved into oncoming traffic. Cars and trucks packed the lane as people fought for space in an attempt to get to work.

  “Damn you, I don’t have time to waste.” Astix maneuvered her bike through the cars, weaving a maze. She honked her horn, speeding over the lines. “Get out of the way!”

  Exits flew by amidst the blare of traffic. Astix switched from the middle to the slow lane, cutting swiftly to the right. She made it five more exits before the trail went cold and the car hit her.

  Or rather, she hit the car.

  A driver’s side door opened without warning. She slammed into it at fifty miles per hour, flipping over the front of the bike and the door. Open air greeted her an instant before gravity flexed its muscle and she fell, skidding across the pavement. There was no time to scream.

  Her helmet hit the ground with enough impact to snap her teeth together. A part of her registered the protection of her leather pants and jacket and how screwed she would have been without them.

  She slid a good ten feet before crashing to a halt against the rear bumper of a van. Vehicles beeped behind her, slamming on their brakes at the suddenness of the accident while the scattered din of voices assaulted her.

  “Someone call 9-1-1!”

  Dazed, she stared at the metal, her reflection swimmy. Bright red blood stood out against the broken visor. Astix groaned, trying to move and finding her body uncooperative. She was dimly aware of people approaching her.

  “Oh my God, what happened?”

  “Miss! Are you all right?”

  The bright light of mid-morning sun cut out as a stranger leaned over her. Vaguely she recognized the tall figure. And the hoodie.

  “Hello, Miss Cavaldi.”

  The cacophonous din of traffic faded to a bell-like tone in her ears as her vision narrowed to a single spot, a funnel shape of color with the rest of the world dropping away. Astix caught the flash of a smile. The veil had parted and allowed something to slip through. Then she blacked out.

  CHAPTER 17

  Leo paced. He was doing it more and more lately, getting in his exercise without the need for a gym. Stress tended to make him antsy. An antsy Leo was an unproductive Leo.

  He didn’t know what else to do. Energy built up and with no outlet, his body took it upon itself to make one. Only once he’d worn a path in the rug did he realize the extent of his malaise.

  Damn, he needed a hobby. Something more than graphic novels and comics, of which even the new edition of his favorite series couldn’t distract him for long. The pages blurred and he found his mind returning repeatedly to Astix. The horrible sadness when she realized the truth, her wrath at his betrayal.

  Leave it to Astix to find out on her own. In the worst possible way. One that involved burglarizing a downtown building. And he could have prevented all that by being honest with her.

  He felt like a first-class jerk.

  He hated leaving things the way they had. It was simply wrong. Leaving her alone weighed on his conscience like a canker. At least he’d stayed until daybreak, because after breaking down her front door and destroying her embedded crystals, he felt responsible for her safety. He hadn’t slept a wink, but he hoped she did.

  He’d told her he had feelings, and that was true. She was on his mind all day, every day. She deserved to know the truth. She deserved to know that he couldn’t live without her. He woke up every morning wondering why she wasn’t right beside him. Multiple times a day he caught himself whipping the phone out and typing out a message for her, only to delete it unsent.

  Every piece of news he heard, or interesting sight on the street, Leo wanted to tell her about. Share it with her. He didn’t consider it too soon for such things. He felt as though he’d loved her for his entire life. So why had he been unable to spit out the words? They’d lodged in his throat as stubbornly as half-chewed food and refused to shake loose.

  No, that wasn’t true…he had tried to tell her. Only it sounded too hesitant, too insincere, and of course she didn’t trust anything that came from his mouth.

  Now she could hardly look at him. That was the worst part. When she did, her face was blank, her eyes disturbed. It was as though she saw him as someone who couldn’t understand her. As though he wasn’t worth an explanation.

  Yes, he’d kept things to himself. Yes, initially she’d been a facet of his work. He’d changed. How could he make her see it? She wasn’t the type of woman to move easily past the betrayal. If he’d been smarter, they could have avoided her reaction. Her totally warranted, typical reaction.

  Leo stopped pacing long enough to go in the kitchen and grab a glass from the cabinet. Filling it with water, he swigged the entire thing in one go, wiping the droplets from his chin.

  He took in the sparse furnishings of what could certainly be described as bachelor pad elegance. The interior of the Gold Coast apartment hadn’t changed since the purchase, one of the benefits of being the son of Orestes Voltaire.

  Prime real estate.

  Leo hadn’t seen the sense in paint or wallpaper. He’d dragged in the few measly pieces of furniture he had—some bought and others gifts from family members—and called it a day. Taupe walls mixed well with beige carpets and dark hardwood. All run of the mill.

  He supposed it was adequate, but there was always something missing. Now he realized he wanted the charm and uniqueness of Astix’s house. The eclectic touches of antiques and odd modern twists.

  His apartment was bland in comparison. His life was bland. Any women he’d ever entertained were brought back
to these four bland walls. Few lasted and most were gone within hours of their arrival.

  Astix was unlike any woman he’d ever encountered. Not just because of her incredible magic. It was her vulnerability, her random kindness, her hidden prowess. Mixed characteristics all coming together in an unforgettable package. She had him wanting more.

  They simply fit together.

  He was growing more annoyed with himself by the second. Leo toyed with the idea of driving back to her house and forcing her to listen. He entertained fantasies of tying her down, sitting atop her as he explained himself. Of course, the action would lead to lovemaking in one way or another. They’d end up naked, her pert breasts pressing against him as their mouths explored and plundered.

  The thoughts caused an answering reaction within him and Leo adjusted his suddenly tight pants. The idea appealed to his nature in many ways.

  He had one hand on his scarf and a foot out the door when he stopped. A fog settled over his mind, giving him pause. From his pocket, he dug out the chunk of obsidian Astix had called up on their first meeting.

  Now he was glad for the little bit of selfishness. A black glow emanated from the depths in a warning. Leo considered the stone as his worry grew. He instantly tuned in to the properties within and listened to the message.

  He forgot his scarf as he ran out the door.

  **

  Darkness assailed her. An endless sea of it, with waves pushing her below the surface until she felt like drowning. Astix woke sitting in a room she’d never seen before, with the taste of bile in her mouth.

  Pain lashed through her head and stars danced in the blackness, random sparks and pops of color. Passing out was something she hadn’t done since childhood, the one and only time she broke a bone and refused to look at the flopping appendage.

  It took her too long to remember what had happened, and longer to accept the accident, the gut-clenching horror she had felt when her bike collided with a car door and sent her flying through the air. Certainly not with the greatest of ease.

  It came back to her in flashes. At once, she was aware of the way her body felt, like pieces of a broken doll glued back together. The bleeding on her head stopped when the cut clotted. She ran her tongue around inside her mouth and checked her teeth to make sure they were all intact.

  Groaning, Astix moved her body with infinitesimal slowness and gradually surfaced from the darkness. She attempted to get up but each twinge sent agony shooting in response and a wave of dizziness in its wake. Her fingers twitched, brushing against the roughness of the rope keeping her tied down.

  Rope?

  She managed to focus enough to realize she was lassoed tightly to a wooden chair. The straight back provided a perfect rung of laddering to keep her immobile. Along with her wrists, her ankles were also bound with rope.

  She tried to speak, to move her mouth, and found a length of gauze stopped her. The gag tasted of dirt with a slight undertone of decay and rot.

  In that instant, she knew a fear so great she wanted to disappear. To bolt forward and never look back. Still, she breathed through it and braced herself in the chair while dread wrapped around her neck with homicidal hands.

  Where was she? The room was quiet, the only sound coming from a vicious ringing in her ears. Finally, her eyes adjusted to the dimness and Astix could make out the shadowy figures of two people across the room. Steel walls blocked out the rest of the world, a large metal door providing the only exit. No windows.

  Her first thought—when she was able to think clearly—was to draw on her magic. She reached for the familiar presence in the back of her mind, needing the reassurance. Shock coursed through her when she felt nothing. Zero. Zilch.

  Hard as she tried, only an empty cavern answered her. She felt none of the presence of nearby crystals and gems, could not pull on their inherent properties if she wanted to.

  Well, damn.

  Immediately she panicked, feeling faint as her nervous system revved for action in a state of heightened arousal. Who was strong enough to disable her magic? Her physical body, maybe, but not her power. It was as much a part of her as her soul.

  To have it taken away…

  Her heart beat sped and her breathing became labored. Wide eyes darted around the room for something, anything, to help her escape. Small screams burst through the disgusting substance binding her mouth and she fought against the ropes.

  The metal door began to open and she strained to see who was coming in. A light blinked on, blinding her. Astix shrank back, feeling the burn through closed lids. Migraine pains exploded like spears of iron between her eyebrows. A loud thud accompanied the closing of the door, trapping her once more inside the metal area. Now she could see the room was round and roughly the size of a helicopter pad. Binding runes littered the steel walls like graffiti, keeping her inside and powerless.

  No wonder she couldn’t draw on her magic.

  Shoe soles clicked along the floor before coming to a stop in front of Astix. She felt the heat from the body, a dark tension slapping at her unconscious.

  “Ah, you’re awake. I was hoping to talk to you. It can get lonely, I admit. Although I don’t know how much talking you’ll be able to do with that thing across your lips.”

  She tried to see, but the light still hurt too much, and she averted her eyes until they could become accustomed to the sudden brightness.

  “Oh no, you need to look at me while we have our conversation. Let me help you.” A hand reached out, biting deep into her chin and ruthlessly turning her head to the front.

  The light still obscured his features. Through the haze, she saw the hoodie. It was the same man from the club. The one from her dreams, the one who had chased her through the park after her meeting with Orestes.

  The stranger slowly removed the gag. Astix took the opportunity to fill her lungs fully. She opened her mouth to yell and found herself silenced by a hard slap across the cheek. Her vision exploded as pain radiated through her face.

  “No, no. If you’re going to scream, then I will have to silence you. And I don’t want to hurt you. Especially not after the day you’ve had.” He clucked his tongue. “Boy, you took a beating out there. I hadn’t expected you to slide so far. Woo! I’m surprised you didn’t need a trip to the hospital. Funny thing, magic. It took care of the worst of the damage.”

  Dazed, she tried to place the voice. It was unfamiliar, an odd amalgam of cadences and genders she couldn’t understand. As though two people spoke at the same time.

  “What do—” She coughed, clearing her throat. Each muscle convulsed individually in a symphony of aches. “What do you want with me? You’re the one who’s been stalking me.”

  “I wouldn’t exactly call it stalking,” the man said. “Call it a nudge in the right direction.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Do you think I would ruin the surprise by telling you? What kind of fool do you take me for, woman? No, don’t answer. I’d rather not hear. Are you comfortable?”

  “Let’s see. I’m tied to a chair in the middle of God-knows-where with a maniac standing in front of me.”

  His voice deepened and she felt its sting. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  “What do you want?” Astix asked again, trying to keep from quaking. Her heart did a slow twist and she felt the beat in her fingertips.

  “Come now. What a clichéd question. I’m sure you can find something else, something better, to ask. After all, this is the start of a conversation! Try a different question,” he commanded.

  Put on the spot, Astix found it hard to respond. Everything she needed to know was a cliché. She went through a variety of questions and discarded them all. “Will you let me out of here?”

  “Ah, well. That depends on you, my dear,” he told her. “On what kind of answers you give me.”

  “Do you really think you’re in a position to ask?” Astix fired off. Perhaps false bravado would somehow morph into the honest-to-goodness kind.r />
  “I’m in a better position than you are.” The stranger chuckled, the sound grating over her like nails on a chalkboard. “I’m the one calling the shots. After all, you’re incapacitated while I walk free. That should give you a good idea as to how this will play out.”

  “Why did you bring me here?” she wanted to know.

  He clucked his tongue a second time. “Now you’re being selfish. This wasn’t all for you.”

  With a snap of his fingers, the lights across the room popped to life with the hum of fluorescence. There, illuminated by the glow, Karsia and Aisanna sat bound to identical chairs. Their heads lay close together in the gloom of unconsciousness, bruises marring their cheeks.

  Astix struggled harder. “What did you do to them? Let them go.”

  “Why would I? When we’re going to have so much fun together.” Without fanfare, the stranger stepped into the pool of light and pushed back the hood of his sweatshirt.

  Astix considered him, looking over his pale, nondescript features. The man was inhumanly tall, his frame reaching toward the ceiling like overstretched dough. Straight nose, deathly pale skin, and too-light eyes completed the look. His weak chin positively begged for a good punch.

  “I’ve seen you before.” She narrowed her eyes. “Not the club. Somewhere else.

  The man bowed at the waist before shooting her a terrifying grin. “Many times, my dear Miss Cavaldi. The most recent of which was standing outside your bedroom window.”

  “You’ve been trying to drive me crazy.” She felt dirty inside at the thought of her personal space violated. “The crows were your idea.”

  “The crows, the doll, the owls.”

  “And my dreams?” she asked.

  “It was a package deal. You had to feel weak and isolated, and from everything I’ve seen, I succeeded in my task.” The man indulged in a small round of applause for himself. “Really, it was years in the making, and you came through with flying colors. You did most of the work yourself, you know.” His fingers were cold as they brushed her cheek, pushing the hair back to reveal the newly healed scar where the rogue spell had grazed her. One hand pressed against his heart in a study of remorse. “I am sorry. I didn’t mean to hit your face.”

 

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