Shattered (Tempest Coven Novels)

by Wendolyn Baird

  Jason's face reads like a blank slate, empty, indecipherable, and dark. Clearing my throat, I go on, “There's this mirror I have, an heirloom really.”

  Cursed object... family heirloom; tomato, to-mah-to. Just something I'm stuck with like all the other Tempest women before me.

  “It's specifically for scrying, and is deadly accurate, but the tradeoff for using it is that there's always a path you're put on to complete. Or some sacrifice you need to make. I'm never sure what it's going to be, so I try not to use it...”

  “But to say finding your sister is an emergency is an understatement, so it's no wonder you'd try. So, it brought you here?” Jason guesses at the rest of my words, and I'm so grateful to not have to say them aloud, I just sit and nod.

  “And where exactly does Atlas fit into all of this?”

  “I... he... well I don't know how to describe it. I was looking for Sasha and it hasn't been going well. Then I ran into Atlas, and there was just this weird feeling, that he was someone who could help. So, I may have, kind of cornered him and tried bullying him into helping. For whatever stupid reason, I was lucky enough that he agreed. And I like him, he seems like a good guy.”

  He sinks lower down in the seat, lounging as he speaks. “Yeah, that's Atlas for you. He doesn't know how to not help people. It drives me nuts sometimes, but in this case, I'm sort of glad for that.”

  I tuck the blanket further under my chin and blink against a wave of exhaustion. “So am I.”

  We talk for another twenty minutes. I'm lazily passing the time, as my head is still spinning from the day, and the meds; but I suspect Jason is analyzing my every move and word. What I can't tell is if it's from a medical view or as Atlas’ best friend kind of view.

  Eventually, Atlas wanders in, his muscles in full view as he carries in bags and boxes of food. Elara sets her head up higher to watch him from my lap, and I cautiously turn my torso over the back of the couch as well.

  “Awesome, man! Pizza!” Jason dances around the kitchen slightly as they put away groceries, both men intent on getting food on the table.

  “You are so strange," Atlas remarks. Shaking his head at his friend he mutters on. "How can you be a doctor, and act like a kid at the same time?”

  After a couple of hours being away from Atlas’ voice, I'm amazed at what a balm those few words are. Strange what can change in the course of a day.

  Jason closes the pizza box with his elbow and motions towards Atlas with a laden plate. “It's all part of balance, my friend. Besides, I was starving. Did you know your fridge is practically half empty?”

  A puzzled look hits Atlas as he wrenches open the fridge and checks its contents. “What the hell are you talking about? There's leftover fajitas, sandwich stuff, salad, drinks, eggs; there's tons of food in here.”

  “No man,” Jason's solemn face is at odds with the pizza he's waving around in his hand. “No, you've got lots of ingredients, and food that your friends don't feel so comfortable just taking from your kitchen. You need to keep more snacks around here.”

  I hold back a laugh, and then flinch at the sore bruises on my ribs. That's going to take some getting used to.

  “It's not my fault you didn't eat, and you could have texted at any time, you know.” Setting down a small can of food for Elara, Atlas pauses to stick his head in the living room.

  “Good to see you're awake again. How are you feeling?” His eyes are full of guarded emotions, and I wish I had my glasses on. What I wouldn't give to be able to see his aura without them!

  “I'm okay.” I rub my ribs ruefully and continue trying to ignore my legs altogether. “I guess I'm just lucky a house didn't land on top of me.”

  Accepting a plate from Jason, I readjust my, well, really Atlas', pillows, and stare at the slab of cheese and grease in front of me. Maybe pizza isn't the best thing to eat after having splinters shoved into my hands today.

  Finally, I work out a way to wrap my napkin around the crust. There! Now I can eat and not sting my hands! Glancing up, I notice Atlas staring down at me, frowning.

  Jason's still happily eating in the armchair, and... there's no more seats in the living room.

  “Oh, I am so sorry!” I yelp, scooting myself to one side of the small sofa. “I'm sorry, here I am taking up all the room,” shoving the blanket to the floor, I shiver as the cool air hits my bare legs. My shorts are now way more cut up than cut offs, but there's nothing to do except pretend that the style is normal until I get a chance to change.

  “Oh no it's okay, I'm sorry, you don't have to move for me. I could have sat on the floor or something.” He's obstinately standing with a soda and plate balanced in his hands, but the way his back slouches shows off just how tired he is.

  “Don't be ridiculous. It's your couch.” I can't imagine how he's holding up after everything. Mages must have some serious healing skills I wasn't aware of, because he's bordering on superhuman invincibility right now.

  Up close, I can see the scrapes that run up and down his forearms, interrupting the lines of ink that flow into each other. The blues are especially bright, and I resist the urge to pull on his arm for a closer look.

  People don't like to be treated like books. Even without tattoos, I know that.

  So, we sit, and the guys joke while I pretend to be fine. It's comforting to be taken care of, but every time I blink, I see the ghost from the house. She was gruesome, but I don't think she was the thing dragging me down, her words were too much of a warning.

  They're going to steal me... who's going to steal me? There's no way the Benavidez sisters followed me this far, I shook them off back in Houston. Besides, the spirit that was after Robert was ready to steal his soul, and this woman looked like she was clawed to death. Totally different types of ghosts.

  A chill runs down my spine as I remember the yowling that sounded right outside the building. Atlas said it was as big as a mountain lion... she said something about being eaten. Could she have died from an animal attack?

  The lack of background noise alerts me to a shift in the emotion of the room. Both men are staring at me, an unanswered question hanging in the air.

  “What was that?” I mutter, suddenly aware of the cold pizza still sitting in my lap.

  “Are you okay?” Atlas takes my plate and angles his face around to mine.

  I can't look at him right now, his eyes are so concerned. Too caring. If he keeps on like that long, I'll break down, and there's no time for that.

  “Yeah,” I rub my eyes. “Just tired, excuse me. I'm going to go get cleaned up.”

  Limping my way to the guest room, I grab some clean clothes and pause for a moment to catch my breath. Shuddering gasps pull at my bruises, and I consider again, why that stupid freaking mirror told me to come here.

  It's related, I know it is! So why can't I see why? Rubbing my already busted lip, I choke back tears and stumble down the hall for a shower. Maybe after I've cleaned up, I can sleep. I'm tired of being conscious.

  Chapter 17: Atlas

  “WHEN ARE YOU GOING to tell her that you like her?” Jason poses the question innocently, moving his stone to the end of one of my pairs, then collecting them both. I let my face fall, both at his question, and that the fact that I'm losing the game.

  “Cut it out, Stone. I told you, she isn't interested.”

  Glancing to his right, he listens for the sound of the shower, and leans in towards me. “You know, funnily enough, I was talking to her earlier, and I think she might be.”

  Raising an eyebrow at me and resting his chin on his palm, he continues. “She told me that you really surprised her today and mentioned something mushy about your eyes.” He sings out the last five words and grins mockingly.

  Sliding one of my stones between his, I disrupt the linework he was intent on, and blow a puff of air out of my nose.

  “Something mushy about my eyes? Oh yeah, sounds like she's head over heels already, and true love at first sight really does come true!” I quip b
ack in an overly energetic tone.

  Despite my sarcasm, I really do like Tania more than I should. I've been trying to ignore that fact, but there it is it's difficult for me to not find her attractive. She’s witty and enchanting, in more ways than one. I love how her eyes flash when she's excited, how her occasional smiles hint that she knows more than me, or anybody else, no matter how small or few between those smiles are. Then there's the way her wiry frame slinks when she moves, coming off as both feminine and strong at the same time. She's kind of mesmerizing.

  “Earth to Atlas. Hello? Come on, man. I know what it's like to be hung up over someone, but this is just sad.”

  Startled, I stare up at Jason, who is motioning to the board in impatience. Waving at the coffee table, he shakes his head in exaggeration. “Are you planning on playing your turn, or are you just going to keep ignoring me?”

  Heat rises up the back of my neck, and I work to keep my face natural. “Hey, I'm looking at the board, aren't I? Do me a favor and consider shutting up, nobody said anything about me being hung up on anybody.”

  Pushing himself up from the coffee table, he makes his way to the kitchen and helps himself to another drink. I pinch the bridge of my nose, and hastily place another stone on the board.

  “I mean, I just did. But if that's how you feel, I guess you don't need to hear about how safe she felt when you were carrying her in here. Or how your eyes are like gold, glinting in the sun. It honestly sounded silly to me anyway, I've always thought your eyes were always just a plain, dirt brown.”

  Flicking my soda cap at him, I try to shake off his words, and glance down at Elara, who's winding herself in near knots around my ankles. Just what I need. A small, furred spy literally sitting at my feet.

  “So, when are you leaving tonight?” I ask him, fighting to change the subject. An amused expression crosses Jason's face and I groan, knowing even before he opens his mouth, that I've failed.

  “Why? You planning on sweet talking a witch after I've gone?” He smirks at me. “You know, this means you should start saving money, right? According to her prophecy, she's skipping town at the new moon. You're gonna need some cash if you're going with her.”

  “You know what?” I point my finger at him and lean forward. “I was going to tell you to be careful on your way home. But now, I think I'll just ask you, once again, to shut up.”

  His boisterous laughter carries throughout the room, and he gazes at me earnestly.

  “You think I'm teasing you, Atlas, but I'm serious. You don't see how you look together. She never stopped watching at you while you were here earlier. Never stopped asking questions about you while you were gone, never let out an ounce of energy until you walked back through the door. I swear, she almost physically lit up. Then there's you!”

  He gestures to me, and I'm biting the inside of my mouth to keep the corners of my mouth from stretching upwards.

  “You're cautious with her, but she talks, and you nearly start humming in happiness. If there's any opportunity to hold her hands, you take it. Then I say the slightest suggestion of you having interest, and you go blinking and rubbing your face without even noticing you're doing it.”

  More than anything, I want to argue with him, but even as I go to open my mouth, I find that my hand is in fact, rubbing at my face.

  “Whatever it is, it's my business, not yours. So, I'd appreciate it if you could just butt out. Right now, the only thing I'm interested in, is this game, so come on. Let's get back to playing.”

  Jason shrugs noncommittally and pops another pepperoni in his mouth. Settling into his seat once more, he eyes the board and sweeps another one of my pairs to his side.

  “Pente!”

  “Damn it.”

  He probably distracted me just to win the game. I don't know why I didn't catch that before, it's something he's notorious for.

  Stretching his arms into an exaggerated yawn, he slaps his lap then stands up to reach for his case. “Alright Atlas, I'm headed out. I'll leave you to your business.”

  I roll my eyes at him, and start sorting through the game pieces, putting everything away.

  “This one's for you to take, instructions on the back,” Jason is holding up a thin cardboard box. Antibiotics.

  Tapping his finger on another carton laying out, he continues, “Here's Tania's. Make sure she takes it. Then I'm also leaving this cream here. Antibacterial properties but should help with the pain more than anything. Suitable for witches and mages alike, just don't let that familiar eat it.”

  Elara's eyes glow from her position at my feet, eyeing him reproachfully.

  “If you say so, but I seriously doubt she'd want that stuff anyway, she's smarter than that.”

  Jason shrugs and tosses the wide jar at me anyway. “Just letting you know. Call me tomorrow if you need anything else, otherwise I'll swing by on Wednesday in between my split shift and check how the two of you are recovering.”

  Double checking the latches on his case, he scratches behind Elara's ears, pats my arm as a goodbye, and then steps out into the night.

  “Jason?”

  I pull the keychain out of my pocket and toss it at him, grateful for his quick reflexes as he catches it instinctively.

  “Keep that on you at all times and let me know if you see a giant cat anywhere. It's been awhile since I've gone hunting.”

  A grim look crosses his face, causing the angular cut of his jaw to appear even sharper than usual. With a curt nod of his head, he clambers into his truck, and drives into the darkness.

  I'm not sure how long I stand there, peering into the road, but I feel the need to keep watch. The land is so heavily warded there's little chance anything could come through, but even so, in the still of the night I have to wonder.

  A gentle hum of crickets calls out from beyond the porch, and somewhere nearby a click beetle is flipping over. My mind is heavy, but staring into the sky, I find a startling array of constellations much clearer than I've ever seen them before. They wash the worries from me in mere moments, and it's not until I sense movement behind me that I close the door and refocus on my living room.

  “Hey, did Jason leave already?”

  Tania's standing in the center of the room, grasping a bandage in one hand.

  Nodding, I wave at the door and step closer to her, eyeing her unsteady stance with trepidation. “Did you need something? He barely left; I could probably call him back.”

  Her hands and head shake back and forth in sync, as she quickly responds, “Oh, no, really it's okay. I just wanted to wrap up my leg, so I don't end up getting any more blood all over the place.”

  While she speaks, her eyes dart quickly over to the couch and survey the mess. The cushions and blanket are still smudged with blood and dirt, and she moves her shoulders uneasily at the sight, obviously bothered by its presence.

  Drawing my eyebrows down, I wrap an arm around her shoulders to steady her, clear off part of the couch, and move the blanket to the side to be washed. Her slender hands press heavily into my forearms as she struggles to maintain balance without letting too much pressure fall on her bad leg.

  “No, don't worry about that. Everything can be cleaned off, I'm just happy you're okay. I've got to be honest; you scared the living daylights out of me earlier.”

  “I'm sorry,” she blushes, pushing her dripping hair back behind her ear. “I guess it was dumb of me not to find you first. I just felt like I needed to start finding answers and was drawn to the house. I got a little carried away and went on ahead without thinking.”

  Her fingers flutter around her forehead as she talks, toying with a few free strands of hair that persist in falling forward. Taking the bandage from her hands, I lean away from her to grab the jar Jason had left on the coffee table.

  “Don't even worry about it,” I repeat. “I'm just glad you're okay,” I insist, while prying open the stainless-steel lid. Once it finally comes free, I grab a spare napkin from underneath one of our used plates and
scoop out a good amount of the paste. “Just don't do anything like that again,” I add, glancing up to look her in the eyes. “Luckily I got there in time and Jason was available to stitch you up, but...” Shaking my head, I motion for her to bring her leg up so I can tend to the cut.

  “I just don't want something to happen to you, and not be able to get there in time. I don't know what kind of life you normally lead, but at least when you're here, just please, try to be careful.”

  A weak smile crosses her face, and she holds her leg still, eyeing the napkin in my hand. “I make no promises, but I'll do my best,” she concedes.

  I can feel her cool eyes, refusing to move from my head, as I carefully dab some of the paste across the stitches. Her skin is pale, and the cut itself, although cleaned and sewn, is still an angry purple. The jagged line that courses its way down her calf reminds me once of the storm card, and I pray that this is the worst of the injuries to come.

  “Does that hurt at all?” I question, noting a quick intake of breath she draws as I press gauze and bandage over the whole thing.

  “Just a small bit. It's okay, it needed to be done.”

  Her voice is strong, and that contradicts with the tightened muscles that still rest in my palm, and the stiff expression on her face. Cautiously setting her leg down, Tania catches my eye, her gaze softer than I've seen it yet.

  “Thank you.”

  I'm caught in the sincerity of the words, and find myself leaning towards her, wanting to swim, or even drown in that metallic glint of her eyes. So many grey eyes shine flat, as though they're made of glass or metal, but hers are as deep as the sea.

  “You're... you're welcome,” I stammer, her breath just barely grazing my face. I'm a fool for wanting a woman who made it clear she was planning on leaving the moment I met her.

  She draws back quickly, a deep blush raising from her neck as she tucks her chin downwards. “So, I guess we should go over things,” she ventures, clearing her voice as she speaks. Shaking off my reverie, I clear the coffee table and take the trash back into the kitchen.