Dixon (Stratham Shifters Book 6)

by Sarah J. Stone

  Don't worry, your highness. My team is a united front and will protect you.

  She sent him a wink and he laughed, closing the tablet. This wasn't turning out to be such a bad day after all, despite the five fifty-eight a.m. wake-up call.

  Chapter 2

  Desmond and Mariah were in meditation in the outside garden, having not said a word to each other for nearly an hour. It was one of his favourite ways to spend quality time with her – locked in the magic, feeling nothing else but her presence and the strong life force that beat around them. Some witches didn't meditate, although he didn't know how. Nathaniel had never taken to the practice, often unable to quiet his mind, and Desmond was baffled by his talent despite his busy thoughts. Mediation was the only way to centre himself, he found. That, and be alongside Mariah.

  “You are troubled,” she said, quietly, unable to keep it from him any longer. She couldn't quite read his mind, but she could feel the dark cloud over his head like impending rain. He sighed, opening his eyes.

  “Yes,” he said. “But I trust in the magic that the answer will come to me soon.”

  “Is it Sienna?” Mariah asked, knowing that it was. He had been troubled over her situation for the better part of six months, seeming foggy whenever he looked for a future for her. He sighed.

  “I feel like I'm failing her, Mariah.”

  “You are not,” Mariah spoke quickly. “Without you, she would not be here at all, and she would certainly not be as healthy. You and Nathaniel saved her from almost certain death, and allowed her to thrive.”

  “Yes, she thrives,” Desmond said. “Because we block her magic. But there is no future for her in the witches, and both you and I know that. The tests need magic, so where do we go from here?”

  Mariah remained quiet for a long time. “What are you going to do?”

  Desmond sighed. “I don't know,” he said, and then changed his mind. “That's not true. I do know, but I don't know if I have the strength to do it.”

  She put a hand on his arm, giving him strength just from her touch.

  “If Nature intends it, you will follow the path you seek,” she said. “And it will not be as difficult as you feel it is.”

  “Maybe,” he replied. “It's unprecedented, though.”

  “Your entire life with Sienna has been unprecedented,” Mariah pointed out. Desmond let out a deep breath, not realizing he had been holding it.

  “I just don't know where to go from here, Mariah. There is no future, and continuing to train her is a waste to you, waiting for me, to the magic, to the resources. She is smart, and she is strong, and she could have a path outside of this Order if she only thought it was an option. But as long as Nathaniel and I continue to stand by her, protect her, keep her under our wing, she will not see what greatness she can achieve.”

  “And if you leave her?” Mariah answer. “She is attached to you, Desmond, she will crumple if she is alone.”

  “Possibly,” Desmond said. “For a moment. But then she will rise to the occasion, as she always does.”

  “Nathaniel will not leave her,” Mariah said. “He is devoted, he will train her for a half a hundred years if that's what it takes.”

  Desmond sighed. “But that is their relationship,” he said. “I cannot interfere with that. I can only do what I think is best for her and I.”

  “On this quest?” Mariah asked, and he squeezed her hand.

  “I don't know.” he said. “I don't know if the time is right now, or a few months down the road. But it is becoming clearer that is the path we must take. She will hate me for it, but she will be all right.”

  “I don't know if she'll hate you,” Mariah said, after a moment. “Hate is not an emotion she has. Fear, sadness, but not hate. You have bred that out of her. She would make a good witch.”

  “She is a good witch,” Desmond said. “Just…magicless” He patted her hand, and pulled her gently up, watching the time. “Nathaniel is in my head. He wants to leave for Jeffro soon, and you know what Nathaniel gets like when he wants to see Eliza. It's hopeless, even if we are early by months. But I'll be in contact with you.”

  “If Sienna wants to talk,” Mariah said. “I'm here for her. Although she might direct her anger toward me, blame me.”

  “I don't think so,” Desmond replied. “She encourages our relationship, as much as she shouldn't. She thinks that as soon as she passes the tests, I'm going to retire and run off with you.”

  Mariah smiled. “Well, that's true, isn't it?”

  “Is it now?” He desperately wanted to kiss her, but he resisted. They had been better about keeping their relationship under wraps since they were put on suspension. Desmond wanted to leave the Order on his own terms, and that meant being more careful about how much love he bestowed on Mariah. But he did love her, more than anything. Instead of kissing her, he took her arm, pretending she needed more assistance than she did to get back inside.

  They were only four steps inside, when they were bombarded by Nathaniel, straight out of the class he had taught.

  “We should just go now,” he said. “In case Eliza needs to brief us, it's a long escort And also…”

  “Nathaniel,” Desmond put up his hand. “I don't need to hear your excuses. Can I have an hour to pack, at least?”

  “You can,” Nathaniel answered. “Where's Sienna?”

  Desmond's brow furrowed. “You don't know?”

  “It's daytime, Desmond, that's your job,” Nathaniel reminded him. “I thought she would be with you.”

  It was much harder to keep track of her without the bond that they were used to having. But what surprised Nathaniel more than forgetting her schedule was how often Desmond had been doing this. His Maestro had been shifting responsibility more often or letting her have far more freedom than they had agreed on. Nathaniel didn't like Sienna anywhere that people didn't know exactly what was wrong with her and how they could help if she fell ill. As she got older and took the more advanced classes, it was easier, for the classes were smaller and the teachers had known her half her life. Still, he assumed Desmond knew exactly where she saw when the sun was up.

  “I'm sure she's fine,” Desmond answered. “Does she know that we are going so soon?”

  “I'm sure she suspects,” Nathaniel answered.

  “Well, why don't you find her,” Desmond said. “I'll take Mariah to the class she is teaching, and then I'll meet you in the hanger? I assume you have already secured a ship?”

  “Yes, of course.” Nathaniel gave him a funny look. “Is everything all right, Maestro? You seem troubled.”

  “I'll see you there,” Desmond repeated, leaving Nathaniel a bit confused. Still, Desmond got like this sometimes, and Nathaniel knew it was nothing to worry about. Desmond had far more experience riding the ebbs and flows of magic than he did, and it always worked out.

  Reaching a tablet console in the academic hall, Nathaniel logged in to find Sienna's schedule, scrolling to the correct day.

  His Tiro was in advanced linguistics, which was her favorite course. It was due to end in ten minutes, and he moved through the hallways, trying to stay quiet as the classes around him continued his progress. It seemed a lifetime ago that he was a Tiro, sitting in those seats. But at the same time, he felt like it was just a moment ago. He certainly didn't feel like a Maestro most days, and still turned to Desmond for advice, navigating the world by the skin of his teeth.

  He knew part of that uncertainty came from the life he had chosen for himself. He had taken the tests so late because he wasn't sure if he was ready. And then, unlike other young Maestros, he didn't take solo missions as expected. Some of his colleagues left for years on solo missions, finding who they were as witches before coming back to teach. But Nathaniel had never left Desmond's side, and now he was teaching Sienna. It didn't fill him with the greatest confidence, although he faked it relativity well.

  “Well, hello there, stranger,” came a voice and he looked up in surprise. Laura was standing t
here, a grin on her face. Laura was Devon's former Maestro, and she always sent a pleasant shiver down his spine. Beautiful, tall and lean, he and Laura had found solace in each other for a time, getting to know each other on uncomfortable med bay chairs, while their Tiros wasted away on medication. Now that Devon was off world, and Sienna was healthier, they didn't see each other much. It surprised him that Laura had a young Tiro in tow, dressed in training robes. “Long time no see.”

  “Is this yours?” Nathaniel asked, in surprise. She and Devon had been so close that he thought his departure would scar her forever. But Laura seemed to be at peace with her Tiro's choice to live the rest of his life on his terms. She had never seemed scarred like Nathaniel got, the sicker Devon got. To be at peace with such a fate always amazed him. And now, to take another one soon after, to form a bond, that seemed impossible to him.

  “Yes, this is Rago,” Laura said, putting a hand on the youngster, a purple alien with huge green eyes that seemed up at Nathaniel. “Rago, this is my old friend, Nathaniel.”

  “Nice to meet you, sir,” Rago said, bowing and Nathaniel smiled, tightly.

  “That was fast, Laura.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing.” Nathaniel didn't particularly want to start a fight in the middle of the hallway, with Tiros all around. “Just that...if I was separated from Sienna, somehow, I don't think I'd take another Tiro so fast.”

  Laura's eyes flashed. “If you are separated from Sienna, your next Tiro will not be your choice. That's the deal you made with the Jurors, isn't it, so your potential isn't…”

  Nathaniel raised an eyebrow haughtily “What?” he asked, and Laura shook her head.

  “Nothing. We should go. It was nice to see you.”

  “No, say it,” Nathaniel challenged her. “You think you're so high and mighty because Devon's departure doesn't bother you? Because he's somewhere wasting away without you, and you're here doing your duty to the magic?”

  Laura gritted her teeth. “It is with Devon's blessing that I take another, if you remember. One day, Nathaniel, you will grow up and realize what doing your duty means. If it means serving the magic in a way that tears your heart apart, then you do it, for the good of the Order.”

  She left him standing there, stunned, as the bell rang. Nathaniel could only gape after her. How had they once gotten a long so well? How had she turned into this person?

  A sinking feeling came into the pit of his stomach as he considered another possibility. What if she was right?

  “Maestro?” Sienna exited the classroom, confused to find him there. He shook his head, trying to smile.

  She wasn't right. There was no way she could be.

  “Is all well?” Sienna asked.

  “Yes,” he said. “Just that we should go to Jeffro today, if you'd like.”

  “Yes, please.” Sienna's eyes lit up. “Can I just get my homework for the next bit?”

  “Of course,” he said and then her brow furrowed.

  “Where's Desmond?” she asked. “It's daytime, normally he would…”

  “He's just taking care of a few things,” Nathaniel said. “Don't worry about it.”

  But as she headed down the hall to see her other teachers, he watched her go with concern. He knew Desmond was hiding something, but he didn't know what. He just hoped that whatever it was, it wouldn't interfere with the upcoming quest.

  Chapter 3

  “Are you ready?” Nathaniel asked her, and she nodded. “1-2-3.”

  She sprung into action, moving across the ship and up into his arms, where his arms supported her as she pushed into a brief, but perfect handstand. She had taken on much more physical training since they had blocked her magic, enabling her to put to use what she had learned over the years by watching classes she was too ill to participate in.

  Neither of them mentioned that the next step for a witch of her experience would be to levitate. Instead, she held her position a moment or two, and then slowly lowered down until she was on her feet again.

  “Not terrible,” he said, rotating his shoulders. “But are you afraid to flip through?”

  “Yes,” she answered. “I only just started doing that.”

  “You just use the same momentum,” he said. “And if you're off-balance, you…” he stopped himself, realizing what he was saying.

  “You what?” she replied. “You use magic?”

  “Sienna,” he lowered his voice.

  “No, it's all right,” she replied, as she glanced at the clock. They had been in the air for only two hours, but it felt like forever. “It's true, isn't it?” She ran a hand through her hair. “And I have to get used to it.”

  “It won't be forever,” he reassured her. “We'll find a way. We'll figure it out.”

  “But if you don't?” she asked, and he met her gaze.

  “We will,” he said. Her eyes flickered away from him, and he felt Desmond enter the room, the ship finally set on course. Nathaniel used to hate autopilot because he loved flying. In the first few years with Sienna, he rarely took a chance with it, knowing it wasn't as fast as a magical reaction. But these days, he couldn't sit behind a console for twelve hours. The idea that he wasn't so young anymore only slightly bothered him. “Maestro,” Nathaniel turned, trying to act as if all was well. “All set?”

  “Yes,” Desmond said, glancing at the clock. “Sienna, aren't you to attend a lecture by conference now?”

  “Oh.” She paused. “I thought….

  “It's important that you take classes as long as you can, and miss as little as possible,” Desmond said. “We may be on a quest right now, but we aren't focused on the clients, and so you should use that to your advantage.”

  “But—” She knew this was what was supposed to happen, but they weren't strict on it, by any means. At least, not until recently. Desmond had been so pushy of late, making sure she was up to date on classes.

  “Please, Sienna.”

  Nathaniel quirked an eyebrow.

  “Maestro, don't you think she should focus on training here, with me? Or the briefing notes for the quest?”

  “Not right now,” Desmond replied, and his word was law. She bowed her head, and left the room, leaving Nathaniel perplexed.

  “What was that about?”

  “Exactly as I said,” Desmond replied. “She should not be missing classes if she doesn't have to. One never knows wen that information is going to come in handy.”

  “Not that I disagree,” Nathaniel answered. “But…”

  “Who knows if quest experience will even come in handy for her?” Desmond asked and Nathaniel’s blood ran cold.

  “Maestro, what are you saying?”

  “Nothing,” Desmond said, but Nathaniel knew him better than that.

  “You don't see her future anymore.”

  “I do see her future,” Desmond answered. “But I don't know if it's with the witches. In any case, Nathaniel, this is not a matter for us to discuss currently. We are headed on a quest. We will be working hard. And she will be working as a witch, no matter what I feel at the moment.”

  “Desmond, we're going to find a way,” Nathaniel answered. “Don't talk like this. Don't give up. You haven't been the same since Reynolds reappeared.”

  Desmond's head spun around and he stared his former Tiro down.

  “No. This has nothing to do with Reynolds”

  “I know you better than that.” Nathaniel circled him. “You're afraid of what people will say. The great warrior Desmond, with one Tiro gone, another far too old to have been training, and a third that loses her magic.”

  “Nathaniel, I have never cared what people think,” Desmond answered. “I'm just trying to get us both to be realistic about the situation.”

  “To what end?” Nathaniel asked, but Desmond had no answer to that. Nathaniel backed down, tucking his hands in his pockets. “I think I'll go watch her lecture with her.”

  “Nathaniel,” Desm
ond called after him, but he was already gone.

  The older witch sighed, shaking his head as he closed his eyes. He had been in difficult situations before, but this was by far one of the worst. This limbo was eating away at his soul, and he could get no answer, no matter how hard or long he lost himself in the magic.

  He didn't see Sienna until she joined him in the cockpit in the last half hour of the flight, tucking her thin legs under her. She had changed into the robes that the witches wore when they were on a quest, earth green for Tiros, and dark brown for the Maestros. Her black leggings and boots only made her seem more fragile as her hair fell in her face. She said nothing, staring into the blackness and Desmond smiled.

  “I'm not angry at you, little one. I don't know why you think that.”

  “How did you know I was thinking that?” she asked, turning to him in shock. “We aren't bonded anymore.”

  He chuckled. “I don't need magic to read you, Sienna. You used to do that when you were a child, slink in and sit quietly until things were no longer tense. It's a skill you have, defusing any situation with simple silence. But in this case, there is nothing to defuse.”

  “You've seemed angry at me these past few days,” she answered and he shook his head.

  “I'm not angry,” he repeated. “You need not worry. Here,” he took his hands off the wheel, “you can land.”

  “From here?” she asked, indicating her co-pilot position. He nodded, shifting the control to her. Biting her lip, Sienna focused on the console for a moment, learning the buttons. Then, she moved over a few buttons, keying in a landing sequence.

  It popped up on Desmond's screen, and he only had to glance at it to know it was right. Since she had learned piloting from Christa, she had taken to it amazingly well, picking up the procedures of nearly any craft. It was one of many options he thought she could make a career of without magic.

  Without even being a witch.

  The thought thundered through him so strongly that he felt chills going down his spine. He made sure to glance out the window, to hide his reaction. Normally, his thoughts were concealed. And although he had been circling around this one for quite some time, it seemed earth-shattering to think those exact words.