by Valia Lind
And this is where my mind has taken me. I'm trying to figure out the name of the floating device I'm currently standing on instead of trying to figure out... oh I don't know, what's up with my magic? Before, I'd talk it over with Kelsey. Now, she's the reason for my problems. What a life.
I fully expect Eric to follow me out, but he doesn't. Wrapping my hands on the rail, I let the wind and the water wash over my skin as I breath in deeply. The uneasy feeling I experienced when I first stepped onto the boat has diminished a bit. For this one moment, I feel like myself. I feel grounded. How crazy is that when my feet are not even on the ground?
There's a tickle of power at my wrist, and I glance down to run my finger over the design. This has become a comforting habit, as if the artifact knows I need a bit of reassurance. Even yesterday, my response to this piece of jewelry was completely different. Now, it seems we're... bonding.
When I feel a presence behind me, I don't turn. I know it's not Eric even before Mitch takes a spot beside me, placing his hands on the railing alongside mine. He doesn't speak right away, enjoying the breeze just like I am. Sometime in the last ten minutes, we've left the harbor and are moving across the Neva River. The city spreads out on both sides of the boat, standing still, yet moving along with us. It's a beautiful illusion, and I let myself enjoy it for a moment.
"I understand that it might seem crazy to you," he finally says, breaking the comfortable silence. "What we do."
"I can't say that I'm not surprised. It seems unreal," I answer honestly.
"Tom has always been a fair leader. He saved me, you know."
"Saved you?"
There's a faraway look in Mitch's eyes when I turn to look at him. For just a moment, the happy go lucky guy I've come to know is gone. In his place stands someone who has seen a thing or two. Memories are a tricky sort. They can encourage and stab deeper than a knife, all at the same time. Mitch, for just this moment in time, feels it all. Then, the curtain falls, and he's back to his old self. That's a response taught by years of experience.
"My family doesn't deal in clean business, so to speak," Mitch says, smirking a little. He doesn't need to clarify more than that. Our community has plenty of dealers and smugglers, especially when it comes to magic. "I was supposed to go into the family business. But Tom saved me. He gave me a purpose outside of wanting to make a ton of money or follow in the footsteps of my family."
"How did your parents take it?"
"Not well, but that's life. I'm old enough to make my own decisions, and Tom gave me options. I didn't think I had those before I met him."
I know what he's doing. He's trying to make me see him, all of them, as the good guys. He's trying to make sure I trust them. But with the bracelet burning with power on my wrist, with my best friend no longer dead and now on the side of the evil, no pretty story will make me put my guard down. But I appreciate the gesture.
"I'm glad you found him. All of them."
Mitch is silent for a moment, as if he's not sure he should say anything else. But then he does.
"You'll be glad you found them too. Just wait and see."
I smile, but I think he can tell it doesn't quite reach my eyes. No matter what kind of a pull I may feel toward Eric, my brain overrules any other part of me. Just then, as if me thinking about him conjures him up, he walks over to us.
"We're getting off here and getting on a hydrofoil."
"Hydro what?"
"You'll see," Mitch grins. "It's pretty cool."
He seems excited, so I let him have that. Someone should still be enjoying themselves in this crazy life of ours.
When we finally pull up to the next harbor, the five of us are ushered off with no repercussions. A part of me still thought we were on the boat illegally somehow, but Tom waves to the captain before we blend into the crowd. Tom leads the way, moving with purpose before we come to the opposite dock. The crowd parts, and I stare at the weirdest-looking boat I've seen.
"I know it looks strange, but it's the best way. It'll take us straight across the Gulf of Finland, thirty minutes at the most," Mitch comments over my shoulder.
"It looks like a long sausage," I mumble, which sends Letty into a fit of giggles.
"That's the best description I've heard."
Mitch chuckles as well, his large body shaking with the movement. I think Eric is about to crack a smile, but he moves forward before I can see.
When I say this thing looks like a sausage, it really does. But maybe a more accurate description would be a submarine with windows situated ever foot or so, completely encircling the vessel. It also sits above the water line on what look like water skis. They’re connected at each end across the bottom.
"How exactly does it get us there in thirty minutes?" I ask Mitch as we stop in line to get on the boat.
"See the bottom? It's designed like that so as the craft gains speed, the boat's hull is lifted out of the water, resting on the hydrofoil. It allows for greater speed since it decreases the drag."
He's very excited to get on this thing, that's for sure. I've never been big on boats in general, but if I was unsteady on the previous one, I'm not sure how I'll react on this one.
Once we step on the craft, my whole body feels unsettled. I'm not sure what exactly is the cause of these intense reactions, but I have to rein it in. I can't be displaying any kinds of weakness. Especially not now.
"Come here." Eric appears at my side before gently running his finger down my arm and nodding his head in the opposite direction. The rest of the group settles in their seats while Eric guides me to the front. He motions for me to take a seat near the window and then settles beside me.
The space is small, so his whole side is pressed against me, and somehow, that centers me. We have to wait until the rest of the group gets on before we can leave, which gives me a moment to look out and collect my thoughts. It appears that I will have to continuously work at this, or I'll become overwhelmed. And I definitely don't want to do that or I might set the whole boat on fire.
"Are you better?" Eric asks, glancing over at me. I narrow my eyes for a moment and then I realize he must've seen my distress when we got on.
"Maybe? I'm not sure why I'm reacting so strongly."
"It's probably your fire magic."
"What?" I turn to him more fully, which places my knee directly against his. His body tenses for a second, but it's the kind of tension my own responds to. Closing my eyes briefly, I try to stay focused.
"You're not a water elemental. It's only natural for your fire to have aversion to large bodies of water. Have you ever been around water before?"
I open my mouth to tell him that's crazy, but then I stop. I've never been big on water, but I never associated that with my magic. Where I grew up, it was always forests and big buildings. I mean, I know how to swim, but I can't think past that.
"You think my magic is affected?"
"I think it is more comfortable on solid ground. The yacht we came from was steadier. The hydrofoil sits directly over water and is much lighter. It would make sense if you feel unsteady."
I let that sink in, no pun intended, before I sigh.
"You really are a walking encyclopedia." I shake my head as Eric raises his eyebrow at me. The look is way sexier than it should be.
"It's the same for us," he replies, holding my gaze steady. "I'm much more comfortable in the forest than in a big city."
"But you don't stay in one place where you're comfortable." It's not really a question, but Eric nods.
"Our lives are not about being comfortable. It's about doing what needs to be done."
Before I can reply, the hydrofoil jerks, sending my heart slamming against my chest. My hand lands on Eric's before I realize what I'm doing, and I try to yank it away. Before I can, he catches it in his own, entwining our palms together.
Just like in the apartment, his touch calms me down. I don't think twice about holding onto him. Maybe that makes me weaker than I want to appear,
but at this moment, it doesn't matter. The bracelet heats up for a split second, as if offering its own type of comfort. The hydrofoil picks up speed, and I can feel it lifting off the water's surface as we race toward the Summer Palace.
Right now, I need something to hold onto, and he's the only constant that's been present in my life since all this started.
I have no idea what to do with that fact.
Chapter 5
When we step off the hydrofoil, it takes a second for me to find my footing. What Eric said must be true, at least partially. A part of me is very happy to leave the floating vessel behind.
"Remember the plan," Tom says as we move away from the others who are disembarking. "No powers unless absolutely necessary. If they're not here yet, they'll be here soon. We don't want to give away our position."
With that, he gives me a tense glance before turning and walking away into the crowd. Letty and Mitch follow suit but move in a different direction once they're closer to the trees. I look up at Eric, waiting for him to lead the way. For now, he's calling the shots. But I've already decided I'm out the moment the opportunity presents itself. The moment we shared on the boat? I don't like relying on him like that. I need some time on my own. To find my own answers.
"Let's head toward the gardens."
We set off straight from the dock, past a few workers directing traffic. I don't speak Russian, but Eric listens intently. I can see the subtle shift in his features, even though he's keeping them mostly neutral.
"What's wrong?" I whisper, but of course his supernatural hearing doesn't miss a thing. He glances at me in surprise, clearly not expecting me to pick up on anything.
"You can't get to the Summer Palace from here. We had to come from the street to be allowed in that part of the grounds."
"Well, that presents a problem."
We follow the rest of the crowd as they break off to look at various fountains that seem to be spread out everywhere. While I have some information about Saint Petersburg, I've never heard of this place, Petergof. Suddenly, I feel Eric's hand closing over my own and then he tugs me to the right. I trust his guidance without hesitation, allowing him to pull me behind him as he dives into the brush. We tumble head over heels. It's only my quick reflexes that remind me to tuck and roll.
"Now what?" I ask as I push the hair out of my face, crouching in the dirt.
"Now we make our way up the stairs and to the palace. I'm sure Letty and Mitch had to sneak around too."
"Did they do it just as gracefully?" I can't help the jab as I dust off my pants. Eric narrows his eyes at me for a second but doesn't comment. As he turns to go, I smirk. He won't admit it, but I'm getting to him.
Just as soon as I begin enjoying myself, I stop. I don't have time to be feeling all these things. I don't have time to flirt or play around or any of the normal things I should be doing near a guy this hot. It seems he produces a certain response when I'm near him, and it's difficult to keep my head clear. I need to focus.
Staying just behind the trees, of which there are plenty, we make our way up toward the upper gardens. The palace sits on a top of a hill with the gardens running down to the water and out in both directions. There's a separation between the lower and the upper gardens, but I can't tell the difference between the two. Just that apparently, we can't go a certain way.
The fountains seem to be everywhere. They're beautifully made, I can tell that even from a distance. Statues of various gods and fairytale creatures spit or pour out water, adorned in whites and golds. They sparkle in the afternoon sun.
It doesn't take us long to end up near the stairs. Now that we're past the restricted areas, we can walk upright. I glance down the steps toward the long canal of water and the hydrofoil, amazed at the sight in front of me. Everything almost seems magical as I look at it. But it's not all magic. Just the nature around me. Inhaling deeply, I take it all in. Being locked up will always be a part of me, apparently. Appreciating open spaces is officially imbedded in my psyche.
"Where do you want to start?" Eric's question breaks through my thoughts. I turn back to him. I think he saw exactly what I was looking at, but even more so, he knew what I was thinking. His eyes are understanding. For some reason, it makes me want to cry. I'm not about to do that in front of anyone. At least, not if I can help it.
"I have no idea," I reply, giving the area around us a quick scan. "What is this place?"
"The Versailles of Russia," Eric replies, his voice low. When I look at him, I notice him studying our surroundings with the same awe I'm feeling. This shifter continues to surprise me. I'm not sure how I feel about that.
"Why do they call it that?"
"It's similar to its French counterpart. There are over one hundred fountains and waterfall cascades. The main attraction is the Grand Cascade." Eric points up the stairs and toward the palace. Just that sight is something I don't think I'll ever forget. Everything here is adorned in golds and marble. "It houses a statue of Samson in the middle. He’s opening a lion's jaw with his bare hands. Water shoots out from the beast's mouth, straight into the air. An array of other fountains is arranged around it, making it a spectacle."
"How do you know so much about this place?"
My question seems to put him on a defensive for a moment, but then, the tension dissipates. A faraway look comes into his eyes.
"When I was little, all I wanted to do was explore the world. My father told me about the cities he visited when he was a young man traveling on missions. He came here, and to Saint Petersburg, because he wanted to see the city of the tzars."
"You and your father must be close."
I know the moment the words leave my mouth that I said something wrong. Whatever Eric was going to share, he shut it down just like that.
"My father hasn't always been a kind man. But when I was younger, he tried."
With that, Eric doesn't elaborate. Instead, he sprints up the stairs, and I hurry behind. Every time I think we're making progress, the shutter comes down. But in all honesty, Eric doesn't owe me his life's story. He doesn't owe me anything. If we were to keep score, I'd be the one with the debt to pay.
But the two sentence glimpses into his life do make me curious. He's lived a much different one than my own. Of that I am sure. But then, my own life isn't everything I thought it was, so I am definitely not drawing a comparison there.
"It really is a man ripping open a lion's jaw," I mumble as we come up to the Grand Cascade. Looking north, I see a long canal of water. It dips and then runs farther until it reaches the Gulf of Finland. Large trees adorn it on each side with circular fountains outlining it as well. It's breathtaking. Just as much as the fountain right in front of me.
The man and the lion are both gold, situated in the middle of a small square island right in front of the palace. There are other gold statues with water shooting out of them, but there's something about the beauty of Samson and the beast. It pulls me forward. I wish I was close enough to reach it.
"You said there are over a hundred of these? Are they all so... intimidating?" I ask without taking my eyes off the statue.
"Not all. But the grandeur of them can be."
I'm not quite sure how to interpret that, so I don't say anything.
"You know, during the war, most of the statues were buried so they couldn't be stolen. And then when the restorations began, they basically grew this place from the ground up. Not all of them though." He glances back at the Grand Cascade, a touch of sadness entering his gaze. "Some had to be replaced after the originals were looted."
There's that note of awe in his tone, and respect. For a second, I wonder if he would've become a historian. He clearly loves books, and this is something near to his heart. If we lived in a different world that is. Here, we don't really get to choose where we fit.
But still. It would be nice if we were here for a simple tour, but we're far from tourists. I would've liked to hear him talk about every aspect of these gardens in detail. But that'
s not our life. Together, we turn toward the palace.
"You wouldn't happen to know how many rooms are in this building, would you?"
"Thirty, if memory serves me right."
Which I'm sure it does. I don't see this guy forgetting anything. I can see why this is called a Summer Palace to Hermitage's Winter. The place feels like summer, with its happy yellow facade and the outside greenery.
"Once we're through here, we can go to the Upper Garden. The palace serves as a divide between the Upper and Lower."
"Good to know."
When we step inside, whatever I'm about to say, dies on my lips. Just like with the Winter Palace, the architecture takes my breath away.
"This country is really something, huh," I murmur. Eric replies with an approving grunt. It feels like he needs a moment to take it all in, so I don't say anything else. After a few seconds, he seems to shake himself and gives me a single nod.
Eric and I begin moving through the palace. It's so different from the Winter one. The Hermitage Palace was a wide open space with plenty of light and room. The Summer Palace is almost its opposite. While the beauty is still there, in every painting and every golden statue, the rooms are a bit narrower. It gives the whole place an illusion of confinement. Well, it's still bigger than any place I've ever lived, but I can see the contrasts between the two buildings. Especially from the outside. It's just as majestic but without being overwhelming.
Inside, it's a little bit of a different story as everything is adorned and decorated with precision.
"Do you have any idea where to start?" I ask.
"Did we at the Winter Palace?" Eric counteracts, and I shrug.
"Good point."
Glancing down at my wrist, I focus my attention on the bracelet.