Lasting Fury (Hexing House Book 2)

by Jen Rasmussen

  Thea stared at her aunt. “What is wrong with you? You’ve asked me a million times to try to manipulate my visions! I would expect this from Flannery, but—”

  “I’m not saying we shouldn’t be cautious,” Bridget interrupted. “We absolutely should be, and I trust you’ll talk to your security people about it first thing tomorrow morning. But to call it off entirely, on the basis of this vision of a very non-specific threat, seems extreme. That’s all I’m saying. We’re not talking about a picnic here, we’re talking about Flannery’s wedding.”

  Thea crossed her arms and looked from her aunt to her cousin. “Maybe I should talk to Alecto instead,” she said finally. “She can call it off. Since she’s not emotionally invested in this wedding, maybe she’ll be more rational.”

  She wasn’t.

  It was already after midnight when Thea knocked on Nana’s door, which probably didn’t help her cause. Nana let her in without bothering to hide her irritation, and made yet more tea while Thea sat at the table with Alecto, a near-exact recreation of the scene at Aunt Bridget’s. But without the drama, Thea hoped.

  Alecto’s face still showed traces of the acid burn, and her eyes were still covered, although she said she hoped to take the bandages off in the morning. She heard Thea out, then said, “I’ll talk to Gordon first thing.”

  “You should call it off,” Thea said.

  “That is the last thing I will do.”

  “Why?”

  What the hell is wrong with everybody?

  “New Year’s Eve,” said Alecto.

  Thea blinked at her. “What?”

  “New Year’s Eve,” Alecto repeated. “When the humans do these big gatherings in their cities. Or tree lightings at Christmas. They get terrorist threats every single year, don’t they?”

  “I have no idea,” Thea said.

  “Well, let’s say they do. Or if they did. You think they would call it off?”

  Thea sighed. Of course. Cowboy bullshit. I should have expected as much. “No.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Some crap about not letting the terrorists win,” Thea said. “But you wouldn’t catch me there.”

  Alecto shook her head, and Thea could easily imagine the disgust in her eyes. “All this time, and you’re still not a real fury.” She accepted a mug of tea from Nana and repeated, “I will talk to Gordon first thing. But if there’s a threat—from either my sister or the humans—I will be damned if I’ll cower before the likes of them.”

  “Could work to our advantage anyway,” Nana said as she took her own seat.

  Thea frowned at her. “How so? And I would think you of all people would be on my side, after your own vision. You don’t think we could be seeing two different versions of the same thing?”

  “Might be, or they might have nothing to do with each other,” Nana said. “But the point is, our enemies don’t know the details of either of our visions. They won’t know we’re expecting trouble tomorrow.”

  “So you want to use my cousin’s wedding as bait,” Thea said, then remembering the typical fury attitude toward the disposability of humans, added, “Nero’s wedding.” She looked at Alecto. “Your head of RDM. Maybe I’ll go see him next.”

  “You will do no such thing,” Alecto said. “Let the man have one last night of peace. You have my word I’ll tell him in the morning, and if he wants to call it off, we will. Otherwise, I think it should be up to the couple getting married, don’t you?”

  She didn’t, but Thea also didn’t seem to have much say in the matter. So she went back to her residence and tossed and turned until morning, then put on her yellow dress—she regretted not sticking with the black, now that Flannery had been such a bitch—and went to the Colony Center to start setting up.

  “Good morning.” Cora came in in her own black dress, and gave Thea a tired smile. “I heard about your vision.”

  “How’s Nero?” Thea asked. “He still wants to move forward?”

  “Even more, if that’s possible,” Cora said. “I’d have expected nothing else from him.”

  “So you think the same thing as Alecto,” said Thea. “That it’s unfurylike for me to suggest calling it off.”

  Cora shrugged. “Not really. You’re the one who actually experienced it. I’m sure it was more unsettling for you. Gordon’s got everyone in his department working instead of joining the party, by the way. They’re all pissed at you.”

  “Great. I’ll add their names to the long list of people who are pissed at me. Starting with Flannery.”

  “Eh, it’s her wedding day,” said Cora with a wave of dismissal. “In a few hours she’ll be drunk and sentimental and telling stories about when you were kids to everyone who will listen.”

  “I guess.”

  I hope.

  Flannery herself arrived an hour later, Aunt Bridget in tow. Both embraced Thea as if their conversation the night before had never happened, which, Thea decided, was probably not a bad call. Flannery and Nero had made their decision, and there wasn’t much to be gained from retreading the same ground.

  Gordon walked over to them while they were in the dining hall, putting the centerpieces on the tables.

  “I need to go over the list of human guests with you real quick,” he said to Flannery. “They’ll be escorted in from the main gate by my guys.”

  “There are only a couple,” said Flannery.

  Gordon nodded. “They’ll have to wear name badges, I apologize for that. But we need to make sure all the humans on the campus today are authorized. We’ve also cleared a room for you in the gym wing to get ready in.”

  “Great. Thanks for everything.” Flannery glanced at Thea as Gordon walked away and mumbled, “You too.”

  Aunt Bridget cleared her throat, and Flannery rolled her eyes. But her voice was louder and clearer when she spoke again. “I know you were just trying to look out for us.”

  “I’m happy for you, Flannery,” Thea said. “I really am.”

  “I know.”

  An hour later, they were ready to start. Cora and Nero’s parents had both passed away—there were so few old furies, it seemed, a concern Thea would have to consider another time—so Aunt Bridget walked down the aisle side-by-side with Nana, who was more-or-less everyone’s Nana. Then it was Cora’s turn, with another friend of Nero’s, before Elon and Thea would follow as best man and maid of honor.

  “I think you’ve got an admirer,” Elon whispered to Thea as they waited for the music to give them their cue. He nodded at Pete, sitting a few rows up, staring openly at her.

  Thea smiled at Pete, who didn’t seem embarrassed to be caught looking. He grinned back at her and gave her a thumbs up.

  “We’ve known each other since we were kids,” she said.

  “Don’t give me some like a brother to me crap,” said Elon. “That is not a brotherly stare. Believe me, I know.”

  “Believe me, I know you know. You and your bachelor ways are pretty much all I hear about from Cora these days.”

  “Well, maybe not so much after today.”

  Thea raised an eyebrow at him, but Elon was saved by the swell of music. He grinned down at her as they started walking, and said nothing.

  The ceremony, much to Thea’s relief, went off without a hitch. Nero’s obvious delight in his bride was contagious. Even Cora looked happy. And looking at her radiant cousin, Thea momentarily forgot everything else. The vision, the danger. Their fight the night before, and all the fights that had come before that. Every rotten thing Flannery had ever done, pretty much, had been driven by insecurity. Now she looked downright serene. Maybe she really had changed for good.

  I’ve changed for good, too. But have I changed for the better?

  Thea pushed the question aside as Flannery and Nero, now pronounced man and wife, walked back down the aisle hand in hand, nodding at their well-wishing guests. It was a lovely moment. And it was marred by nothing.

  Maybe it’ll all be fine.

  The lunch
served in the dining hall was accompanied by recorded music; there was no live orchestra, corpse or otherwise. There was no dancing, either. And Gordon’s team was clearly visible, without being overly obtrusive.

  Maybe it really will.

  Thea stood near the bar with Aunt Bridget and Pete, pretending to chat while really watching the crowd as closely as the guys from Security were. So she saw Graves coming long before he arrived.

  Working his way through the crowd, Graves looked almost like his old self in one of his bespoke suits. He moved from group to group with his charming smile, every bit as if he still had wings on his back. He seemed to be in a great mood.

  Thea didn’t like it.

  When he finally made his way to her, Graves stood slightly apart, just out of earshot of Aunt Bridget and Pete, and gestured for Thea to come to him. Curious, she did as he asked.

  “I’m surprised to see you here,” Thea said.

  “Tradition has it that life event celebrations are open to the whole colony,” Graves said. There was no trace of alcohol this time, either in his voice or on his breath. “And they can’t exactly turn away the wingless when one of the happy couple is human, can they?”

  “I didn’t say I was surprised you were invited,” Thea said. “I’m surprised you came.”

  Graves chuckled, as though he thought she was joking. “I heard you had a vision about this wedding.”

  “Where did you hear that?”

  He gestured around the dining hall. “Oh, over there. And there. And again on the left side.” He smiled at her. “The story has gotten around.”

  “Lovely.”

  “You know,” Graves said, “visions tend to be the province of the women in my family. I’ve had maybe two my whole life. But I had one last night, too. Isn’t that an interesting coincidence?”

  “It’s an interesting story,” Thea said.

  He laughed outright at that. “I wouldn’t blame you for thinking I was playing you, given our history. But Hexing House—the whole fury way of life, really—is at a crossroads, Thea. This is a crucial time. Even my feeble old psyche picked up on that, I guess.”

  “And what did your feeble old psyche see, exactly?” Thea asked.

  “You,” said Graves. “Standing at that crossroads. Directing traffic.”

  Now it was Thea’s turn to laugh. What kind of trick was he trying to pull out of his hat, exactly? And why did he imagine she would fall for whatever it was? “Was I wearing an orange vest?” she asked.

  Graves smiled again, and there was nothing smarmy about it. He looked almost kind. “I don’t think what you saw was really about this wedding.”

  “No?”

  “I think it was couched as this wedding because that was what you were disposed to see, but also because of what it represents.”

  “Which is what?” Thea asked.

  “The relationship between humans and furies,” said Graves. “I think you were being warned. Given notice.”

  “Notice of what?”

  The charm left Graves’s face then. His eyes were flat and serious as he said, “The decision will be in your hands. Not Alecto’s or Megaira’s. Yours.” He shook his head, as if he was finding his words as hard to believe as she was. “The human transformation, deciding the fate of the furies.”

  “Graves, I haven’t got the slightest idea what your game is, but do you honestly expect me to bel—”

  Thea was interrupted by the sound—always annoying, and most especially at weddings—of a butter knife clinking against a glass. She looked up to see Elon, standing on a table.

  Pete came over to her. “Time for the best man toast, then? Do you do one after?”

  Thea gasped. “Shit, I hope not. Nobody mentioned it.”

  Pete laughed as Elon started talking.

  “This is where I’m supposed to talk about Nero,” Elon said. “And what a great friend he’s been. What an inspiration and a role model. But because he is such a great friend, he’s given me permission not to talk about him.” His eyes found Cora, and he grinned at her. Cora frowned back at him, confused.

  “He’s given me permission to talk about his sister instead,” Elon went on.

  Now Cora’s eyes were wide. Thea wished she was standing beside her friend, so she could squeeze her hand.

  “She has many of the same wonderful qualities as her brother,” Elon said. “And one that he doesn’t: patience.” He looked around the room and raised his wine glass. “It is a virtue, is it not?”

  There was a general murmur of agreement, and many glasses were raised in return.

  “But like all virtues, patience has its limits,” Elon said. “So first, I’d like to thank Cora for allowing me to exceed the limits of hers so often, and for so long.” He waited for the chuckles to die down, then said, “That ends today. I have indeed been inspired by my friend and role model, Nero.”

  He raised the glass again, this time to Nero, who returned the gesture and grinned. Then Elon looked back at Cora, and Thea grinned too, relishing the moment.

  “Will you marry me?” Elon asked. It was the most serious Thea had ever heard him sound.

  By then, Cora was crying too hard to do anything but nod.

  Elon hopped off the table, and Nero took his place. The crowd was silent while Elon got on one knee and slipped a ring onto Cora’s finger. Then Nero clinked a knife against his own glass.

  “Just want to set the record straight before you all start complaining about them stealing our thunder,” he said, to general laughter. “Elon asked both Flan and I if we minded his doing this today. Naturally we said we’d be delighted. And we are. I couldn’t ask for a better husband for my sister.”

  Thea hid a laugh behind her hand. She remembered Nero making snide remarks on more than one occasion about Cora not being able to trust Elon, and about their relationship in general. But now that Elon was ready to commit, Thea guessed it was time for a little revisionist history.

  “Excuse me,” Thea whispered to Pete (and, she supposed, Graves, who was still standing on the other side of her). She began to make her way toward Cora and Elon, as Nero continued his congratulations.

  “And now that we’ve passed the torch on to a new couple for you to talk about,” Nero said, “I think it’s time I spirited my bride away.”

  Thea hugged Cora quickly, then hearing Nero’s words, hurried to do the same to Flannery.

  “Enjoy your honeymoon,” Thea whispered to her cousin. “Congratulations.”

  “Thank you. And see?” Flannery laughed. “I told you it would all be fine.”

  She kissed Thea on the cheek, then Aunt Bridget, before turning to join Nero, who was already at the dining hall door.

  It wouldn’t open.

  “That door doesn’t lock.” Alecto—the bandages gone from her eyes now—flew up onto a table. “Can we get people from Security and Facilities both over to that door?” She gestured at the side exit, which opened up to the auditorium. “Someone else try that one.”

  That one wouldn’t open either.

  Alecto flew to the side door herself, and pushed the handle hard. Thea heard a metallic sound that brought to mind, very unpleasantly, a chain.

  There was a buzz of growing panic as word spread through the crowd.

  “We’re trapped!”

  “What’s happening?”

  And then, before Alecto or anyone else could respond, there was an ear-splitting blast. Followed by two more.

  what

  Something sharp dug at Thea’s side. Her eyes stung. Some kind of liquid was in them. She could barely see.

  what the

  And she couldn’t hear at all, except for a shrill ringing in both ears.

  what the fuck

  She wiped a hand across her face. It came away bloody, but she could see now.

  what the fuck just happened

  She was staring into Nana’s wide, unseeing eyes.

  That shook Thea out of her stupor. Or at least, partly so. She still
felt dazed, but now most of her confusion was caused not by whatever blow to the head she’d taken, but by an overwhelming, aching rage that made it difficult to think.

  Only two coherent words made it through that cloud of wrath, but they were a constant refrain, as Thea tried to collect herself: Go. Chase.

  Nana was lying in a pile of rubble, barely two feet away. Her hand was close enough for Thea to reach out and touch. And she was dead.

  Thea sat up quickly—too quickly, and nearly passed out—and looked around. She still couldn’t hear, but she could see open mouths, shouting, screaming.

  Several people were hurt. A couple of others might have been dead. Dust and plaster hung in the air. A wall and part of the ceiling behind her had collapsed.

  But only that wall.

  As she got her bearings, searching for the faces of her loved ones and trying to make herself focus, that was what struck Thea the most: the dining hall, while a mess, seemed to be mostly intact. And although the wedding guests were shaken, battered, and bleeding, most of them were on their feet.

  There had been three explosions. Three.

  This wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been. Why not?

  And then those words again.

  Go. Chase.

  Thea was shivering. When had it gotten so cold? Stumbling to her feet, she looked around until she found Pete, hugging Aunt Bridget and trying to calm her down, while his eyes searched the room. Whether he was looking for Thea or an exit, Thea couldn’t guess. She couldn’t see Cora or Flannery anywhere, but at least Aunt Bridget looked okay.

  Go.

  Chase.

  Thea knew she was off-balance. She should stay. She should find her family and friends, help evacuate the building and care for the wounded, come together with her colony.

  But she was helpless against the urgency, the near-panic, that had overtaken her.

  Avenge.

  With one last look down at Nana’s body—the old fury looked so small, in death—Thea found a gap in the ceiling wide enough to squeeze through, and flew upward.

  Both the crowd and the confusion in the air outside were just as thick as they had been in the dining hall. Alecto, members of her board, and guys from Security all flew around, shouting things Thea, whose ears were still ringing, couldn’t understand.