Grey (The Romany Outcasts Series, Book 1)

by Christi J. Whitney

  ‘Phillipe?’ said Josephine.

  The man lifted the lantern higher. ‘Josephine?’

  ‘Yeah, it’s me,’ she replied, smiling in relief.

  I rose from my crouch, coaxing my muscles to straighten. Arctic air blasted my insides as Quentin Marks materialized behind the others and moved into the lantern’s glow. The light flickered over his face, shadowing his features.

  ‘Josephine, where’ve you been?’ he demanded. ‘I thought you were getting a ride home.’

  Quentin had already made it clear he didn’t want me near his girlfriend. Once he heard what had just happened, I doubted he’d let Josephine out of his sight again. I squared my shoulders, ready for the worst.

  ‘We had some car trouble, back at the bridge,’ she replied. ‘So we had to walk the rest of the way.’

  I did my best to conceal my surprise. Josephine had every reason to bolt after everything she’d been through, and especially after what she’d seen me do. But as our eyes met, I didn’t feel as if we were keeping secrets from each other. This time, we were sharing one. Was it possible that she felt some kind of connection to me, too?

  Quentin unlocked the gate. ‘Well, I want you inside. There’s been a break-in at the Circe tonight.’

  Josephine gasped. ‘Is everyone okay?’

  ‘Everyone’s fine,’ he replied. ‘And we’ve just finished searching the grounds. The thieves are long gone. But your family’s pretty shaken up. Let’s get you inside, Josie. I know they’ll want to see you.’

  ‘But what about Sebastian?’

  Quentin’s steady gaze shifted to me. ‘He can use my cell to call home.’

  Despite his congenial expression, I got the feeling Quentin would’ve preferred bashing my head in with his phone rather than letting me use it. The muscles in my back went taut, but I managed to smile back at him with dead-calm politeness.

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘We could give you a ride,’ said Josephine.

  Quentin’s stare weighed about a thousand tons. My fingertips ached almost as much as my shoulders. I didn’t want to risk another appearance of my claws or a slip of control. Tonight had been bad enough.

  ‘The guys are at the shop,’ I replied. ‘They can be here in a few minutes.’

  Josephine hesitated, and for a split second, I thought I saw something like regret in her face. But, then it was gone. God only knew what she was thinking about me. ‘Okay.’ She slipped through the gate and turned to me. ‘Thanks for everything, Sebastian. I guess I’ll see you at school on Monday?’

  ‘Sure thing,’ I said, keeping my voice as casual as I could.

  Josephine vanished around a striped pavilion.

  ‘I’m sure you want to let your brother know where to come pick you up,’ said Quentin, holding out the cell phone.

  He’d used that same tone with Josephine: deadly smooth, almost demanding. Someone accustomed to giving orders and having them followed. My insides bristled, and I clenched my hands into fists inside my jacket. ‘No, thanks. I think I’ll just walk home.’

  ‘Have it your way.’ Quentin stepped back and closed the gate. He regarded me coolly through the bars. ‘But I’d be careful out there, if I were you.’ He faded from view as the night closed in around him. ‘You never know what’s lurking around in the dark.’

  16. Calm and Panic

  No lights were on in the Gypsy Ink when I returned. Had Hugo gone again? The sign wasn’t in the window, and the door was unlocked. An icy shiver crept up my arms. Something didn’t feel right.

  I pushed open the door, and as I did, a white object fluttered to the tile floor. It was another scrap of paper, and on one side – in the same heavy handwriting – was another message.

  1163 Chimeras Street

  Do not keep us waiting.

  I shoved the paper in my pocket and eased the door shut. The air inside was stifling, like a humid summer night. The shop smelled of rotting fish. I lingered near the window, trying to see into the waiting room, but there wasn’t enough light. I concentrated harder, and then, suddenly, my surroundings flashed into vivid detail, as though someone had switched on a lamp. My freaky ability was back. Slowly, I let myself adjust to my enhanced vision.

  One purple couch was overturned, and magazines littered the floor. Wisps of mist clung to the walls. My shoulders contracted, and I forced them back. I inched closer. My movements were unnaturally silent. I gripped the edge of the counter and peered around it. There was a body on the floor, turned upward and lifeless.

  It was Hugo.

  My gut screamed a warning, and then something struck me from behind. Pain lanced my shoulders as I hit the counter. I tried to catch my balance, but the attacker engulfed me. We tumbled to the ground. Its weight crushed my lungs, and I struggled to break free. I shoved my feet into the dark mass, snarled, and kicked as hard as I could.

  My attacker fell back and rolled into a crouch. A snarl of equal fury resonated from beneath the heavy clothing it wore. Instinct took over. I launched into the figure, hurtling us both into the wall. The picture over the counter jolted free and shattered. Glass sprayed across the floor.

  His arm caught me across the mouth. I slid across the glass-strewn floor, shards embedding in my skin. The figure suddenly changed tactics and lunged for Hugo’s lifeless body. I blocked his path, slashing at the air with my claws. The figure screeched and retreated. I leapt over my brother protectively, letting out a threatening hiss.

  I braced for a counter-attack. But it never came. My attacker regarded me from under a deep hood. Despite my night vision, the face was lost in shadows. As I watched, mist formed out of nothing, growing so thick I couldn’t see. In the space of a breath, it was gone. And it had taken the figure with it.

  I glared at the empty shop, body shaking with adrenaline, daring the thing to return. Slowly the instinctive haze lifted and released me from its hold. I knelt over my brother’s body. His face was deathly pale. I clasped his shoulders.

  ‘Hugo!’

  He was cold.

  ‘Oh God…Hugo!’

  I shook him, desperate. This wasn’t happening. Why him? Hot tears pricked my eyes. I slumped forward, head bowed. Then a strangled cry interrupted my grief. Hugo’s face twisted in pain.

  ‘Let. Me. Go.’

  I was still clutching his shoulders with an iron grip. Blood oozed between my fingers where my claws had pierced through shirt and skin. I jolted back in horror. Hugo pushed himself up, grunting in pain. Color seeped into his face, and his eyes cleared.

  ‘Hugo, I thought you were dead.’

  My brother didn’t answer at first. He did a quick survey of his head, probing his temple. I noticed a small gash, like he’d hit his head. Then he examined his shoulder. Blood trickled down his arm from my clawed grip, and he brushed it away. His expression hardened like baked clay. ‘What did you do, Sebastian?’

  ‘I came in and saw you, and then someone…or something…attacked me. I tried to fight it off, but then the thing just vanished. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.’

  A wave of guilt careened into me. Hugo had been hurt, no, by the looks of it, nearly killed. If I’d been in the shop, if I’d stayed home like he’d wanted me to, then maybe I could have prevented this.

  ‘That’s not what I meant.’ Hugo wobbled to his feet. He grimaced with the strain, but there was fire in his eyes. ‘Who did you protect tonight, Sebastian?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  His eyes narrowed. ‘Who did you protect?’

  ‘You, I guess,’ I replied, confused. ‘I mean, that…’

  ‘No,’ Hugo snapped. ‘Not me. If it were me, you would’ve been here. Your instincts would’ve kicked in, and you would have known I was in trouble.’ He stared me down, sending a chill up my spine. ‘So I’m asking, for the last time. Who did you protect tonight?’

  I clutched my head, feeling as if it was about to explode. Images of the dark figures at the Fairgrounds flashed through my mind. I could still fe
el the intense protective urges I’d been experiencing since…

  ‘Josephine Romany,’ I said suddenly.

  A muscle in Hugo’s neck bulged. The air between us hung heavy. My arm stung from the broken glass, but I didn’t move, didn’t breathe. He lumbered past me and collapsed into the armchair. His gaze drifted to the window.

  ‘I should have realized it sooner,’ he muttered. ‘Or maybe I refused to see the obvious. You shouldn’t have been able to hit me the other night, not if you were protecting me.’ His brows knitted together. ‘There’s been a mistake.’

  ‘A mistake with what?’

  Hugo looked at me. ‘Your charge.’

  ‘My what?’

  ‘The person you’re meant to protect.’

  My breath caught in my throat. ‘You mean Josephine.’

  Hugo’s eyes narrowed dangerously. ‘You’re meant to protect us, not them. Something’s interfering.’

  ‘The Romanys,’ I said quickly. ‘There was a break-in at the Fairgrounds tonight. Maybe they were in some kind of danger?’

  ‘Is that where you were?’ Hugo scowled. ‘I told you to come straight home after the play.’

  ‘Josephine asked me for a ride.’ My thoughts immediately went to her. I’d been trying to convince myself she was safe since I’d left her. ‘Maybe I should go back to the Fairgrounds, just to make sure everything’s okay.’

  ‘No, Sebastian. That’s the last thing you need to do.’

  ‘But you just said I was supposed to protect her.’

  ‘No, I didn’t,’ he replied curtly. ‘I said there was a mistake. I don’t want you getting involved with the Romanys.’

  ‘What are you talking about, Hugo?’ I gritted my teeth against another harsh emotional rush. ‘I don’t even know them. How can I be involved?’

  He ignored my questions. ‘Stay away from them.’

  ‘I can’t promise you that, Hugo,’ I forced myself to take slow breaths. ‘Especially when you’re not giving me any reason why I should.’

  My brother drew his shoulders back and glared at me. ‘The Romanys have made some powerful enemies, Sebastian. Ones that you, of all people, don’t need to come up against right now. You should’ve come home tonight, and you don’t need to hang out with a member of their clan.’ Hugo rubbed his arm, and his fingers came away stained with blood. ‘You’ve done enough damage tonight. Let me handle this.’

  I didn’t budge. ‘What was that thing? What did it want with you?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter.’ His eyes took on an ominous glint. ‘Let it go.’

  My anger ignited again. ‘Hugo, I found you lying on the floor. Attacked by some creature and unconscious! That’s not something you just let go.’

  My temperature was rising, and sweat beaded along my forehead. I pushed away from the counter and stomped through the waiting room’s cluttered debris. Hugo shot to his feet and met me at the front door.

  ‘What are you doing?’ he demanded.

  ‘Not letting it go,’ I said. I zipped up my jacket. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t be long.’

  Hugo’s silence followed me all the way to the parking lot.

  In the past, the thought of my van abandoned on the side of the road would have bothered me. The old clunker was the only thing I’d ever called my own. But now, such things seemed unimportant. Let it get towed to a junkyard, for all I cared. I could manage.

  The October night was crisp and clear. The stars sparkled above like flecks of glitter on a velvet canvas. I jogged across the road to the railroad tracks, which led straight into town. I leapt onto the rail, on a whim, but instead of teetering as I expected, my feet were steady on the narrow beam. Unnaturally steady. I dropped my arms to my sides and took several steps, testing my newfound balance. I took a cleansing breath of autumn air.

  Then I started to run.

  I sprang lightly on the balls of my feet, gliding along the rail. Each footfall was as sure as if I was running on the ground. I’d never had balance this good before, and the feeling was exhilarating, almost like flying. For a moment, I forgot about all the freaky stuff happening, and I felt myself grinning as I picked up speed. Main Street veered off to the left, but I stayed on the tracks, following them into Sixes’ historical district.

  I knew exactly where I was going: a section near the outskirts of town scheduled for renovation years ago but never completed. I leapt from the tracks, skidding down the gravel bank to the road I’d been searching for: Chimeras Street. The pavement was badly cracked and needed repair. Weeds poked through jagged fissures in the sidewalks, and rows of abandoned buildings stood forlornly on either side of the street.

  It was like entering a ghost town.

  The hair on my arms rose as I searched every broken window and board-covered door. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched. I fished the second paper from my pocket, flipping it between my fingers. My claws had disappeared again, but my nails remained dark gray. I crumpled the paper in my fist. The faded numbers above store fronts and factory entrances took me closer to my destination.

  1157…1159…1161…

  My feet stopped in front of a rusted gate that opened into a courtyard of dead grass and overgrown weeds. Looming before me was an ancient-looking cathedral, fashioned entirely out of gray stone. The lofty spires were a familiar sight; I’d observed their pointed tops many times from the window of the Gypsy Ink, all the way across town. But I’d never been this close to the building before. An old historical marker leaned against the front steps, its faded gold lettering barely legible.

  Cathédrale de Gargouilles

  Established 1832

  Jacques Gringoire

  Mossy vines grew rampant along the cracked walls. Portions of stained glass windows glistened through boarded slats. Along the rooftop, stone figures – some human-like, some animalistic – were silhouetted against the dusty sky. Their Gothic faces stared out over Chimeras Street with expressions of noble ferocity; mirror images of the drawings in Hugo’s book. I shuddered and hurried up the marble steps.

  Massive wooden doors groaned open on aureate hinges, ushering me inside a cavernous room. Dim light filtered through the space, illuminating the deteriorated remains of what had once been a beautiful sanctuary.

  I hesitated, starting to regret my decision to come. I had no idea what I was dealing with. The air inside the cathedral was eerily warm, but my body felt frigid. Nervous sweat trickled down my back.

  ‘Hello?’

  My voice echoed back to me. I scanned the room and the rafters above, but I could see nothing. And then, a faint breeze began to stir. It moved through my hair and chilled my skin. Drifting on the gentle current was a voice.

  ‘Welcome, Sebastian Grey.’

  The blood crackled in my frozen veins. The voice didn’t speak again, but I could feel something in the room with me. Seconds passed. Then minutes. I dropped into a crouch out of some instinctive urge.

  Mist drifted between a row of immense columns, and from within the mist, four figures materialized. The first three were the mysterious creatures I’d already encountered. Each wore an array of gray-colored clothes, simple and non-descript. The two male figures flanked the female. Standing near the trio was a man with a tall, sturdy frame.

  ‘Thank you for meeting with us,’ he said.

  ‘I didn’t have much choice,’ I snapped. ‘You totaled my van and attacked my brother.’

  Mist wafted around the female’s face, and I felt her laughter. ‘We’re not your enemies, Sebastian.’ Her voice was smooth and resonant.

  The three figures circled me slowly. I couldn’t keep my eyes on all of them at once, and I shifted around in my crouch, feeling trapped. ‘You said you wanted to talk. So talk.’

  The female figure was at my side – quicker than I’d have thought possible – and she crouched down, mimicking my posture. It was still difficult to see her through the shroud of mist and heavy clothing, but her foul smell burned my nose. ‘So your little clan ha
sn’t told you anything,’ she mused.

  My lip curled again; that same involuntary reaction I couldn’t seem to manage. ‘They’re trying to protect me.’

  ‘Are you sure about that?’ she answered. ‘Or are they trying to control you?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  The tall man flicked his hand, and she cowered back. ‘You’ll have to forgive Anya,’ he said. ‘She’s a bit impatient. He nodded at the others. ‘Matthias, Thaddeus…give our guest some space.’ The figures retreated to the columns as the man moved closer. ‘You know, Sebastian Grey,’ he continued, ‘you were a difficult one to track down. The Corsi clan has hidden you well.’

  I rose slowly. ‘Who are you?’

  He was obviously human, and mist didn’t cling to him as it did the others. Dark wide-spaced eyes in a tanned face, which was framed with long black hair. A pinkish scar ran from his temple to the corner of his thin mouth. ‘My name is Augustine,’ he said, pulling his lips into a smile. ‘It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.’

  ‘Not exactly the word I’d have chosen.’

  The man – Augustine – strolled to the center of the room, seating himself on a discarded pew. ‘You’re right, Sebastian. Perhaps we did not go about this the best way. But, you see, we don’t have a lot of time.’

  My anger was slowly growing, replacing the nervous fear. ‘Okay, so I’ll make this brief,’ I said. ‘Starting with my brother. Why did you try to kill him?’

  Anya drifted around the column. ‘We never intended to kill him,’ she answered. ‘Otherwise, he’d be dead. We were merely seeking confirmation.’

  ‘Of what?’

  Augustine rubbed a finger along his scar, looking thoughtfully at me. ‘Your existence, Sebastian. We had our suspicions, but couldn’t be certain. You hadn’t shown any physical signs of emerging.’

  Damp hair clung to my forehead, and I shoved it away. ‘So you’ve been looking for me.’

  ‘Of course I have.’ Augustine brushed invisible flecks of dust from his shirt and smoothed the fabric with a casual grace, as if we were having the most normal conversation in the world. ‘Shadow creatures are quite rare these days, but gargoyles are even more so. Too many of your brethren have been destroyed over the centuries. To find an unsealed guardian like yourself is remarkable.’