Ascension (Ascension Series Book 1)
Page 7
I looked at the Prime. His expression was impassive as always, but his eye color wavered between emerald and black.
“As Alisande pointed out, Fiona, our conversation last night was interrupted.”
“Why are you so angry?” I asked, stupefied.
“Not angry. Frustrated.”
I waved a hand. “Whatever. Why are you acting like a prick?”
“Jesus, Fiona,” Mal muttered.
A surge of adrenaline brought me to my feet. “Don’t start, Mal. It’s partly your fault I’m stuck in this mess, falling for that ‘her safety for your help’ crap. Did you know our illustrious Prime wants to use me like his personal seeing eye dog?”
The instant twist of guilt on my uncle’s face felt like a physical blow.
“You knew about this?” I whispered. “For how long?”
He sighed heavily. “Since your first Census. Frank and I knew it was only a matter of time before we had to let you go. You were always meant for great things, kiddo.”
With his words, my foundation of support was sundered.
Alone.
I’m one hundred percent alone.
The Prime’s lips thinned.
I got angry.
“Has it occurred to either of you how fucked up this is, to put this kind of pressure on me to do something I can’t even conceive of being able to do? If I can’t track the Liberati and Dad ends up dead, where do you think the guilt and responsibility lands? Right here, folks. Thanks to you.”
“Has she always been like this?” asked the Prime mutedly.
Mal snorted. “Since she could talk. I blame my brother.”
“Fuck you both,” I snapped and stormed toward the door. Two feet from it, my nose connected with the Prime’s chest. “Out of my way, your highness.”
“We’ll find him, Fiona.”
More words that were weapons. These, arrows straight to my heart. I clenched my hands, refusing to look up at him.
“You don’t know that.”
Cool fingers moved through the hair at the base of my neck. His thumbs grazed my jaw, gently tilting my face upward. My mutinous body melted, obeying a biological command for submission.
“Yes, I do. He’s alive, and we’ll find him.”
I stared into his eyes, twin pools of certainty, and opened my mouth to say something caustic. What came out instead was, “Why do you keep touching me?”
Mal cleared his throat and I jerked backward, out of the Prime’s reach. Away from his drugging touch. I put a hand to my forehead, feeling flushed and overwhelmed. The men, by some unspoken agreement, waited silently until I pulled myself together.
“Alisande saw something inside me, something that makes her think I can do this?” I asked at length. The Prime nodded. “What did she mean by ‘it’s too soon’?”
He paused, then admitted, “There’s a possibility your ability to track is linked to your lightning. She sensed the potential, but not the manifested power.”
“God, I’m a science experiment to you people.”
“What you’re saying,” Mal interjected, “is that without her lightning, the skill you want to use her for is stunted?”
“Yes.”
I took a deep breath and released it. “Then we’d better bring Adam with us.”
11
It was a long drive from the compound to Snoqualmie Falls. For the first forty minutes or so, I stared out the back passenger window at the passing greenery, glistening and ripe with shadows in the evening light. Having been born and raised in L.A., the lushness of the landscape was a novelty.
The novelty wore off when the Prime and Omega started arguing.
“I have complete faith in you, Adam.”
“I appreciate that,” said the Omega flatly, “but it doesn’t change the nature of your request. Not even I can stop a bolt of lightning.”
“She isn’t going to throw one at me.” Green eyes, dancing with humor, met mine in the rearview mirror. “Will you, mo spréach?”
“Keep up with the pet names and we’ll see.”
Connor laughed. “See? She wouldn’t hurt me. She enjoys our banter far too much.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” grumbled Adam. “Besides, it’s not that I distrust Fiona, it’s that I distrust her discipline.”
Despite the growth in our personal relationship from animosity to not distrust, I took exception to his statement.
“I went years before Mal perfected the spell to camouflage my charge. I managed fine all by my lonesome.”
Which was more or less a lie, unless I measured success as not killing anyone while living in a basement with rubber gym mats attached to the floor and walls. I’d learned to ground, and had slowly built a tolerance for situations and emotions that triggered my charge, but really I just survived.
Nowadays I did my best not to think about that dark time. Ever.
The Prime, of course, knew my thoughts, but Adam didn’t. He said contritely, “Those years must have been difficult. May I ask how, exactly, Malcolm’s spell aided you?”
I resisted the impulse to refuse. “The spell dampened my charge enough for me to have some semblance of a normal life. Over the years, as my power increased, so did my discipline.” Adam snorted and I smiled smugly. “The spell grew and changed with me, and became more about averting accidental touch from bystanders. Like a Keep Out sign.”
I heard the connotation in the words as soon as I spoke them, and was grateful for the dim car interior. Not that I could hide the rise of my body temperature from the Prime.
The men were silent for all of ten seconds, then burst out laughing.
“Grow up!” I snapped. It was only a few moments, though, before I felt my lips quirk. “Assholes.”
“She’s laughing,” murmured Adam.
Passing headlights illumined the Prime’s crinkled eyes in the mirror. “Yes, she is. Like I said, marvelously resilient.”
“She’d have to be to survive the initial lightning strike.”
I rolled my eyes. “If you’re going to talk about me like I’m not here, can we at least turn on some music?”
A button was pressed on the console and Chopin’s nocturnes for piano floated from speakers behind my head. I sighed in pleasure and caught a pleased smile in the rearview.
After a few minutes of mellow silence, Adam asked, “Have you considered having Declan teach her the fundamentals of physical tracking? Perhaps it would create a framework of reference for when she comes into her power.”
“I have considered it, yes.”
“And?”
There was a long pause. “I’d like to see if she can mature intuitively first, without muddying the waters.”
Adam’s grunt sounded suspiciously like laughter.
“Fiona,” said the Prime, “I know you’re listening. Distract me from the monotony of the road.”
Adam barked a short laugh. “That means he doesn’t want to talk to me anymore.”
“Fiona? How was lunch?”
My bubble of Chopin-inspired peace burst. “It was fantastic,” I said with feigned levity. “Everyone was so welcoming and kind. I especially enjoyed your girlfriend accidentally spilling her scalding blood-coffee on me.”
Silence.
I settled back to listen to the music.
“We’re here,” said Adam, voice reedy with relief.
We’d left the highway ten minutes ago and now rolled to a stop on a dark, narrow road. Trees clogged the skyline around us, blotting out the stars and the sliver of moon.
The Prime didn’t wear a seat belt and was out of the car first. Before following, Adam turned from the passenger seat to face me.
“If you lose control, I’m going to surround you in a ward that will contain your power. I’m telling you now because you won’t be able to escape. Don’t try. Do you understand?”
I nodded. Making sure my voice was firm, I told him, “I won’t hurt the Prime.” As an afterthought, I added, “Or you.”
“He’s searching for the scent of blood.”
“I got that from the sniffing noises.”
Adam grunted, mouth twitching. For several more minutes the Prime continued pacing, then he stiffened and turned, striding swiftly from the road onto damp dirt and pine needles.
Squatting, he lowered his face until it hovered an inch from the ground. “Here,” he snapped. “Get the kit. It’s an infinitesimal sample, but I think I can capture it.”
Adam raced to the trunk, returning moments later with a small duffel bag. I hung back, leaning against the warm hood of the car. The cold was deep and piercing, its fingers climbing beneath my wool coat. I had a sudden, powerful longing for the mild nights of home.
I tried very hard not to think about the blood on the ground.
The Prime collected his sample, Adam stored it, and the bag was returned to the trunk. I hugged my arms to my chest and watched the vampire, who was staring into the dark woods. His face was shadowed, but I could see coiled tension in his shoulders.
“What is it?” asked Adam.
“Something…” He shook his head. “Nothing. My imagination. Come here, Fiona.”
“Yes, master,” I muttered and pushed off the car.
On my second step, a queer tingling took ahold of my limbs. “What the—”
“Alchemy!” yelled Adam. “Connor!”
The space where the Prime had been standing emptied a millisecond before an explosion tore upward. Fire, earth, and metal debris shot into the air, peppering the nearest trees and tearing chunks of bark from their trunks.
I was on my knees, coughing in a cloud of dirt, without memory of falling. My ears were ringing and I tasted blood in my mouth.
That odd, tingling sensation returned with a vengeance. Like nails on a chalkboard times ten.
“Adam,” I gasped. “It’s happening ag—”
Arms grabbed me. My head spun and my vision blurred. A heady boom sounded somewhere close by and a blistering wave of heat cascaded over my back. I whimpered, and the heat stopped. Blocked, I realized, by the man holding me.
“I’ve got you. Just breathe.”
“The car,” gasped Adam.
“Fuck the car,” snapped the Prime. “I can’t hear any heartbeats besides yours and Fiona’s. Are they here, or did they set the trap and leave?”
A low groan of pain and aggravation came from Adam. “I don’t know,” he whispered. “Something hit me in the head. Run, Connor. Take Fiona.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
He set me on my feet, grabbing my shoulder when I wavered. Something wet trickled down my temple and I touched it, my fingers coming away dark with blood.
“Protect her. If they’re here, I’ll find them.”
“No, Connor—”
He was gone.
“Dammit,” Adam hissed, his head falling back against a tree trunk.
Some twenty feet away, the glow of the burning car was visible through trees. A bead of sweat ran down my back. My arms itched horribly. And that damned tingling was back, rising to a high-pitched whine in my ears.
“Adam—”
His eyes went white. “I sense it.” He grabbed my arm, forcing me behind him. “Stay down. If I’m taken out, you have to run. Fast, Fiona.”
“Take off the bracelets,” I panted. “Let me help.”
Light flashed through the trees and a cry of pain echoed in the night.
Adam made a strangled noise and ran toward the sound. White radiance glowed around him, building in intensity until I had to squint to see the shape of him inside it. Belatedly, I realized the cry had come from the Prime.
The itching in my arms reached new heights, morphing into a steady burn. I tore off my jacket to stare at the silver ribbons dancing on my skin. I didn’t feel the electricity—not yet—but holy shit it hurt.
The bracelets began to brighten, the metal heating. The scent of my burning flesh hit me an instant before the pain. I dropped to my knees with a muffled scream.
Pressure built in my spine until my back bowed. The power inside me writhed and bucked against its constraints.
My father’s voice whispered in my mind.
Praesent ut libero…
Live to be free.
The bracelets withered and turned to ash.
CRACK.
I went blind at the first expulsion of energy, barely managing to keep my palms angled toward the ground. The base of the nearest tree split in half, sparks and gouts of smoke billowing from its remains. Gasping, I clenched my hands and ground my teeth.
Stay with me, I told the lightning. Not yet.
I didn’t think. I scrambled to my feet and ran, following the shimmering trail of the Omega’s magic. When I reached the tree line, I crouched behind a trunk and peered out at the road.
I saw the Prime first, lying on his side in a pool of blood, fifteen feet from the smoking car. He was angled away from me. By his stillness, he was either unconscious or dead.
Adam was a pillar of white radiance between the Prime and a line of three men in black camo. Disjointed blue sparkles filled the air around the Liberati, darting like erratic stars. The central figure held an unnaturally smooth sphere, about the size of a basketball. In the glowing, milky depths was a wriggling crimson snake with fluorescent green eyes and a forked tongue.
What. The. Unholy. Fuck.
A flash of white and a snap was followed by one of the Liberati falling to his knees. He shook himself and rose back to his feet, even the magic of an Opal Mage repelled by his cipher defenses. Adam had no such protection. The crystal sphere flared bright red, the snake lashing from side to side. Adam cried out, his corona flickering wildly before bouncing back to full strength.
“Give us the girl, Omega, and we’ll let you live!”
Wait—what?
I looked down at my arms, lit up like the Fourth of July, and knew once I appeared I’d be immediately visible. That freaky alchemy would head my way, without any assurances that the Omega would protect me.
In fact, I wouldn’t blame him if he grabbed the Prime and ran. He didn’t know me or owe me loyalty. Regardless of the Prime’s convictions, right now I was a liability that could get them both killed.
It wasn’t a choice, really.
I stepped out from behind the tree. Immediately, four sets of eyes snapped my way. I guess I was brighter than I’d thought.
“Dammit, Fiona,” snarled Adam, apparently more irritated that I’d disobeyed him than that I’d obliterated his spell.
“Fiona Sullivan,” spoke the central man, his bald head gleaming in the firelight. “Come with us. We are not your enemy. Your father is safe and waiting for you.”
The lies stung like wasps. My arms burned. My palms burned. My whole body, toes to crown, burned with white-hot rage.
The first lightning bolt missed, striking a tree with a rending screech of wood. The second was deflected at the last second by the crystal sphere. The third, however, found its mark, ricocheting off the ground and slamming into the leftmost man. He didn’t make a sound as his body flew backward and crumpled against a tree.
“You’ll regret this!” screamed the bald man. “Before your father dies, I’ll tell him you could have saved him!”
Pain seared my heart. My arms pulsed and I lifted them.
“You don’t know my father very well.”
I released the lightning and it hit empty asphalt where the man had been standing. The bolt veered skyward, piercing the darkness and for a moment, illuminating the road.
The Liberati were gone.
I sagged, arms falling limp and dark to my sides. The smell of ozone was thick. Fire flickered in the forest as the tree I’d first struck went up in flames.
I looked helplessly at Adam and he lifted his arms, his eyes flashing white. Moisture filled the air, thick and fog
gy on my face. A moment later, warm rain began to fall, sizzling against the charred car and smothering the fires. Along with the smells of damp earth, charred wood, and burning metal, there was a strange buzzing in the air.
“Do you feel that?” I asked Adam. “A weird vibration?”
He gave me a penetrating look. “No, but I’m pretty sure you’re sensing the magical resonance of alchemy.”
The statement brought me back to the present, and to the Prime. I stumbled to him and dropped to my knees. Blood masked his throat and chest, though whatever wound had caused it was already healed.
He was pale. Too pale. Dark bruises marred the skin beneath his closed eyes.
Footsteps approached, squelching wetly on the road. “He needs blood,” said Adam wearily.
“Okay,” I whispered, rain misting from my lips. “Yours or mine?”
“Yours. The blood of mages is unpalatable to vampires.”
“Huh. Lucky you.”
“Here,” he said and handed me a small, wicked looking knife.
Feeling strangely calm—shock was a beautiful thing—I sliced the skin of my wrist above the circular burn from Adam’s bracelet. Blood welled and was washed away by the rain.
I pushed my wrist to the Prime’s mouth. His body jerked, curling around my arm. A small sigh escaped him. Dark eyelashes flickered, then parted on black eyes. His fangs struck.
It didn’t hurt like I thought it would. There was no venom, not like a snakebite or the sting of a bee. Just a pinch, then numbness.
Then sucking.
After the third or fourth pull, he regained some measure of consciousness. Enough to make noises that brought heat to my face and pooled low in my body.
I closed my eyes and tried to think of pleasant, platonic things. Running on the beach at dawn. A hot cup of tea and a good book. Pizza. Chihuahuas.
“That’s enough,” said Adam sharply, but Connor’s grip only tightened, a low growl in his throat.
My aches and pains floated away on a red haze. Everything was wonderful. Perfect. There was nowhere else I wanted to be. I giggled and listed to one side, and finally fell. I felt no impact. The wet asphalt was soft and sparkly, a bed of glittering pillows.
My eyelids parted just enough for me to see Connor Thorne’s beautiful, enraptured face, and my wrist tucked firmly in his mouth.