by Gloria Craw
“How long have you been dating Ian?” Phoebe asked.
I choked on a sip of my soda. “We aren’t dating,” I said when I’d recovered. “We’re just friends.”
“You’re definitely more than friends,” she responded with a knowing smile.
My shoulders slumped. “How did you guess?”
“I was suspicious when the two of you knocked on my door looking all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed,” she replied. “The way he watched you as you walked over here confirmed it. I can see why it works. He has a lot of energy. I’m guessing it’s pretty intense, even for him. When you’re close to him, it kicks down a notch. You have a calming effect on him, and he makes you smile and shine. The two of you are a great couple.”
I watched my boyfriend pull darts out of the corkboard and drew a deep breath. “I wish it were that simple,” I said. “I’m terrified he’s going to likeness with someone else.”
“Maybe destiny will smile on you,” she suggested.
“That would be a first,” I whispered. Louder, I asked, “What do you think of Theron?”
She stirred her drink with her straw. “He’s a bit prickly,” she replied, “but I’m guessing there’s a lot more to him under that. I recognize his signature. He was with you when we met.”
I nodded. “Remember I told you I was staying with my grandmother,” I said. “I was actually staying with him. He was sort of…keeping an eye on me. If you haven’t already guessed, I can’t essence fight.”
She nodded. “I figured. When my uncle Maxwell attacked you with his energy, you didn’t respond.”
For a relatively peaceful people, the dewing fought a lot. It was tradition for boys and girls to learn combat skills as well as how to fight with their mind energy, something called essence fighting. I was crap at it. The most I could do was defend myself.
“You got a couple of good punches in,” she remarked with admiration.
“Thanks to Ian,” I replied. “He trained me.”
“I’ve been working on essence fighting,” she said. “I’ve gotten a lot better since Maxwell abducted us. I still suck at physical combat, though.”
We watched the boys throw another round, and I asked the question that had been burning in my mind, “What’s going on Phoebe? What’s causing the deaths in your clan?”
Probably trying to decide how much to tell me, she played with her straw for a moment. Then she sighed and said, “We can’t be sure yet, but we think it’s some kind of virus.”
I shook my head at the idea. “It can’t be. We don’t get sick…at least not for long and never seriously enough to kill us.”
“It should be impossible,” she agreed. “But the dewing who died had high fevers, headaches, and chills. They were dead within two hours of the symptoms first appearing.”
“Holy crap,” I muttered, thinking it through. “If it’s a virus…it’s also contagious.”
“Yes,” she responded, “but we aren’t sure how it’s spread.”
“What are you going to tell the clan chiefs?”
“Everything I know about it,” she replied. “I don’t have operational labs, so I need to send blood samples to theirs. We have to figure out what’s going on and how to stop it.”
I nodded agreement.
Chapter Sixteen
I hardly felt the sting when Ian’s foot hit me in the upper thigh. Practice had conditioned me not to process pain until a fight was over. He’d been my teacher and sparring partner for more than nine months, but when I made the decision to leave Vegas, I’d also tapered my training schedule down in favor of spending more time with my family. I was a little rusty and slow to react when he threw an elbow at my jaw. It made contact, and I stepped back with my eyes watering.
“Are you okay?” he asked. “You’re not as focused as usual.”
“I’m fine,” I grouched. “Let’s go again.”
I threw a right at his face, but he dodged it easily. His greatest assets in a fight were speed and accuracy. He tried for another cut to my jaw, but this time I blocked it with an open palm and bounced out of range.
“Perfect,” he said, like he’d blocked the blow himself. “I’m the best teacher ever.”
I resumed my fighting stance in preparation for another combination. “Or I’m the greatest student,” I replied.
His eyes were alight with exhilaration as he motioned for me to make the next move. Ian had been training in martial arts since he was five. Sparing was one of his favorite things to do.
Spencer was one of the first chiefs to suspect Sebastian was trying to gain a foothold in politics. In the beginning, the others were reluctant to believe it or do anything to stop him. It was rumored Spencer tried to off Sebastian a few times without approval. Spencer wasn’t above underhanded tactics when he felt it served the greater good, but nothing had ever been proved. I’d come to believe the rumors were true, though. Almost from Ian’s birth, Spencer and Katherine were worried Sebastian would target him. They’d done everything they could to make certain Ian would be able to defend himself.
Ian showed a preference for the Muay Thai fighting style, which focused on using elbows and knees, and Silat, which focused on speed and leverage. I’d seen him in real fights…life-and-death ones…and he was lethal. He was equally as good at essence fighting.
In an essence fight, a dewing would gather energy into his core and then push it out toward an opponent. You could tell when someone was gathering energy because a lot of external heat was generated. The force of getting hit by someone’s essence was like a supersized punch or kick depending on how skilled the sender was. Size didn’t matter in an essence fight. It was all about the energy you were born with and how well you could manipulate it. Spencer once told me Ian had some of the strongest energy ever known, but he was still learning to manipulate it.
Moving fast, I feigned a kick. Ian tried to block me with a reverse, but that brought me close enough to deliver an elbow to his ribs. I followed it up with a palm check to the underside of his jaw.
When I jumped back to set up for his counterattack, he was smiling. He loved nothing more than a challenge. Faster than I could react, he swept the back of my knees. I was off balance when he grabbed my wrists and pulled me forward. At the last second, he flipped me around so my back was to him. I found myself in a chokehold.
“Surrender?” he whispered in my ear.
“Not yet,” I replied, kicking back and up.
My foot just missed his groin.
Across the grass, Theron and Phoebe laughed hysterically.
Taking advantage of the moment, I slid out of his hold, spun around, and punched him in the stomach. His eye flashed, and then lighting fast, he swept my feet out from under me. I fell on my back, all the air rushing out of me on impact.
Sucking oxygen, I tasted blood.
“Crap,” he said, getting on his knees next to me. “You bit your lip. I thought you’d fall forward so I could catch you, not backward.”
Phoebe jogged over, looking impressed. “No wonder you held out so long against my uncle Maxwell. If he hadn’t been beating you with his ski pole, you might have gotten away.”
With cold fire in his blue eyes, Ian helped me to my feet. “Maxwell beat you with a ski pole?” he asked. “I’d like to shove a ski pole up his…”
“He’s dead,” Theron reminded him. “He wouldn’t feel it.”
“Can you teach me some of that stuff?” Phoebe asked Ian.
“Sorry,” he replied with a shake of his head. “I just got kicked in the nads. I need to sit down for a minute.” Her face fell. “Theron’s pretty good, though,” he told her. “I’m sure he’ll show you a few things.”
My big cousin eyed her uncertainly. “Alison is an Amazon,” he said. “Ian can hit her and not feel too bad about it. You probably weigh less than a hundred pounds, and you’re a foot shorter than me.”
“I weigh a hundred twenty pounds,” she countered proudly, “and I’m tougher than I lo
ok. Just show me one thing.”
He blew out a breath. “Okay,” he agreed, “but if I hurt you, it’s Ian’s fault.”
While the two of them took our spots in the clearing, Ian and I sat down to watch. “This ought to be fun,” Ian said with chuckle. “Look how uncomfortable Theron is. He’ll let her give him a concussion before he’ll fight back.”
“It isn’t funny,” I responded. “She really wants to learn. Theron’s doing her a favor.”
“I shouldn’t laugh,” he admitted. “I probably looked exactly like him when I started training you. I was terrified I’d hurt you.”
“Awe,” I said, giving him a quick kiss. “I’m glad you got over it.”
Theron showed Phoebe a punch-punch-kick combination. She messed it up three times before getting the sequence right.
“Not very coordinated, is she?” Ian said.
“Be quiet. She’s learning.”
Theron showed her a defensive move and asked her to replicate it. When she did, he threw the punch-punch-kick combination. If he had put any force behind it, she would have launched into the air and landed twenty feet away. As it was, she reeled backward and landed on her butt in the grass.
“Let’s switch,” she said, getting up. “I’ll attack, you defend.”
Probably figuring she needed a few moments to recover, Theron didn’t expect the immediate punch she landed in his gut. It surprised him, but her follow-up didn’t. With his hand on the top of her head, he held her out of range. She squirmed like a feisty kitten, making him laugh.
Phoebe didn’t like that at all. I felt a rush of heat as her essence rose. She aimed it at his stomach, and he doubled over in pain.
“What the heck?” he groaned.
“Sorry…sorry,” she said. “That was instinct. I’m sorry.”
Still hunched over, Theron looked at us. “She’s got some kick, Ian. You should feel it.”
Curious, Ian went to join them. “Okay, Phoebe, show me what you got.”
There was another heat surge, and Ian’s eyes widened. “Nice,” he said, nodding at her. “Can you defend?”
“Try me,” she suggested.
There was another rush of heat as Ian sent his energy at her. She stumbled back but didn’t fall.
“I’m impressed,” he remarked.
“Told you,” Theron said, grabbing his jacket off the grass where he’d left it.
I looked at the time on my phone. “I need to go in,” I said. “I’m supposed to talk financial stuff with Spencer and Katherine.”
“Mind if I don’t join you?” Theron responded.
Phoebe narrowed her eyes at him in speculation. “Sometimes you’re funny,” she said, “sometimes you’re almost sweet…then you ruin it by being rude.”
He started walking toward the Arx. “I like to think of myself as well-rounded,” he remarked. “I need a drink of water, and then I’ve got work to do.”
“What kind of work?” she asked, following close by his side.
“The important kind,” he replied, giving her an annoyed glance.
Phoebe wasn’t deterred. I figured she’d keep at him until her curiosity was at least partially satisfied. “Like Earth-changing important?” she asked. “Or just, paycheck important?”
Hearing his sigh of resignation, I chuckled.
Ian reached over to tip my chin up. Looking at my lip, he said, “Maybe we shouldn’t have practiced so near the time of your naming ceremony. You’re not bleeding anymore, but your lip is split and swollen.”
“It won’t be in a couple of hours,” I replied as I started walking toward the Arx. “I needed to train. I’m getting soft.”
Seeing Helen and Rose come out, Ian’s eyes lit up. “Let’s find out if Rose had a good time last night,” he said enthusiastically.
“Hi,” he called, jogging up to her. “How’s it going?”
There wasn’t a single flicker of admiration in her reddish-brown eyes as she replied, “Ah…good.”
“Last night was great,” he said. “We should do it again sometime.”
She forced a smile. “The thing is…I’m sort of in a relationship with someone else.”
Helen shook her head and said, “No, you’re not.”
Rose pushed her mother toward the car and hustled to get in the other side. “We’re kind of in a rush,” she said. “I’ll talk to you later.”
Ian smiled and waved as they drove off. “Hopefully a couple decades from now,” he said happily.
Katherine and Spencer were waiting for us in their suite. So was Luke Stentorian. Piles of paper had been arranged on the coffee table in front of Katherine. She waved me over and patted the space next to her on the sofa. “This shouldn’t take long,” she said.
Looking at the stacks of documents, I sort of doubted that.
“Hey, Luke,” Ian said. “What are you doing here?”
Luke was still a little skittish around my boyfriend. Since it had happened when we thought he was spying for Sebastian, he’d forgiven Ian for trying to kill him, but he’d never forget being punched in the throat.
“My parents were joint trustees with yours over the Laurel estate,” Luke explained. “I inherited their duty.”
“All right,” Spencer said, clapping his hands together, “let’s get things signed over to you, Alison.”
Katherine gave me a leather pouch. Inside there were ten slots, each one had a passport and matching forms of ID in it. “You’ll need to manage your money under different aliases,” she said. “Financial information isn’t as confidential as you’d think. There are people in high places who’d be suspicious if they realized the size of our wealth.”
“Got it,” I said, closing the pouch.
She handed me a paper with a column of numbers on it. They were neatly totaled at the bottom. “This is the current value of your assets,” she explained, pointing to the total.
My eyes widened as I looked at the nine-digit number. “I…don’t need all of this,” I muttered.
“Not now,” Spencer agreed, “but there may come a time when your clan will.”
I shot him a skeptical look.
“The Laurels aren’t gone forever,” Katherine reassured me. “You’ll have children, and they’ll have children.”
“It takes money to run a clan properly,” Luke added.
I nodded my understanding but had a niggling doubt my clan would ever grow larger than me. I didn’t have the dewing shared conscience, and without it, I might never likeness with anyone. Since our kind only became fertile after likeness, the Laurel clan could very well die off with me.
There were a lot of documents to sign and tedious information to wade through. My grandparents had started settling affairs for the Laurels whom Sebastian had murdered, but things were still in disarray when they died. A lot of work had been done by the Thanes and Stentorians on my behalf. The proceeds from all the Laurel assets were spread over several accounts and investments.
After what seemed like hours, we came to the last folder. “This is an account we set up for you to draw from immediately,” Katherine said, handing it to me. “There are credit and debit cards in there as well.”
I checked inside the folder and gulped. The account had half a million dollars in it.
“That’s everything,” Spencer said. “Unless you can think of something we missed, Luke.”
Luke coughed and then grimaced a smile. “That’s all of it,” he agreed.
Spencer wanted to talk to Ian, so Luke and I left the Thanes’ suite together. I rubbed a hand over my eyes as we walked down the hallway.
“That was a lot of information to process,” Luke remarked with sympathy.
“I hate to admit it,” I said, “but I’m starting to feel a bit overwhelmed.”
He made a gurgling sound that was probably a chuckle. “Welcome to my world. What exactly are you concerned about?”
“Among other things, the bonding ritual,” I replied, making a disgusted face.
<
br /> He gurgled again. “I remember my naming ceremony,” he remarked. “Unfortunately, there’s nothing good I can say about it. If the Thanes hadn’t been so supportive, I might not have made it through.”
“They’re very helpful,” I agreed.
“Remember you have friends here,” he suggested. “I’m one of them. You can come to me if you need anything.”
I was touched by the sincerity in his rather bloodshot eyes. “Thanks, Luke,” I said. “That means a lot to me.”
Chapter Seventeen
I reached the landing on the fourth floor just in time to see Logan and Theron carrying a sofa into my suite. With all the crates I needed to sort through, the last thing I had patience for was more of someone else’s crap. I quickened my pace, planning to tell them to take it back but pulled up short when I stepped into the living room.
Two chairs with footstools, a low table, and some lamps had been arranged on a rug in the center of the floor. The chairs were upholstered in floral, circa 1980, but they looked comfortable.
“Not there,” Lillian said as Logan and Theron began to set the matching sofa down. “By the window would be better.”
Claire was standing next to her. “I agree,” she said, pointing to the spot where she wanted it to go. “The light is better by the window.”
“What is all of this?” I asked.
“We found some furniture in storage,” Claire explained. “It must have belonged to previous caretakers of the Arx. You need something to sit on, and I don’t expect them to come back for it, so…”
“We were sitting on the floor,” Lillian commented.
“But we’re grateful to have something nicer,” Theron added with a smile of appreciation.
“I had Lillian number all of the crates from oldest to newest,” Claire added. “I thought that would be helpful when you go through them.”
Grateful that she’d started me on the path to organization, I replied, “Great idea. How many are there?”
“Twenty-nine,” Theron replied. “The ones containing the oldest things are concentrated in your room, the newer things are in mine, and the ones in here are full of in-between stuff.”