Heritage: A Young Adult Urban Fantasy Academy Novel (Elmwick Academy Book 3)
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I’m not ready to go back to Elmwick, and if this is the only way to stabilize the circle, then I owe it to Cami and the others to try. I’ll do my best to find a way to break the joint spell safely, but I don’t have to become the next fire drake. I don’t have to become what Zach and his mother want me to be.
The human in me can’t help but feel our deadly powers may have been masked over for the best. If I really want safety and peace for Elmwick, for all humans, then I can’t hold myself to a different standard than the rest of the legacies. They’re dangerous. I could be worse.
And besides, there’s only one circle. If we do find a way to safely undo the spell, I don’t have to volunteer. Zach has been dreaming of this for years. He’ll always want it more than me.
IN THE WEEKS THAT FOLLOW, I don’t share the decision I took on our way out of Elmwick with my travel companions. I tell myself they needn’t know until the last moment. I believe neither would pass on the opportunity to get Zach his powers, especially if we’re under pressure to act quickly.
Of course, all of this is a moot point until we find out a safe way to undo the joint spell, which might not exist. I get chills every time I think of the gory payback required to undo the joint spell—the deaths of five of my friends.
We spent a few days at the Hastings’ estate so that the family could simulate grieving. Neither Zach nor his mother would have admitted this, but I think they needed it. Vicious hunter or not, Vaughn was a part of their family. He was cold to Zach, but he was still his father—the link that binds Zach and Bryar.
But Mrs. Hastings didn’t allow herself too much time to grieve. Within days, she was on the phone to Vaughn’s hunter contacts, trying to maintain her cover. The game of cat-and-mouse that she, Zach, and, by extension now, I also am playing doesn’t end with Vaughn’s death. That won’t collapse The Hunters’ Guild.
Alisha cut off one head when she caused the explosion that killed her husband. Now five new ones have grown in its place. Worse than a hydra.
None of the new heads could be allowed to uncover our secret.
So we went on the road again, visiting each of them, using the Hastings’ standing among the hunters to paint ourselves as the fiercest among them, even using my leaving town as a sign of protest to what Cami did there.
One by one, we visited three of the five new leaders among the hunters, sleeping in hotels, living out of a suitcase, and never hovering about long enough for them to start suspecting us. We listened to whispered conversations and angry tirades about the events that took place in Elmwick.
So far, we haven’t caught even the slightest whisper of the recipe to freedom we truly seek.
That might change today. We’re on our way to leader number four, but before meeting him in The Hunters’ Den he controls, we’ll make a quick stop at a viper’s nest.
“THE NARDUCCIIS ARE one of the most respected legacy families among the hunters,” Mrs. Hastings reminds me with a stern look.
“That’s a sentence I never thought I’d hear.” I shoot a sideways glance at Zach, who’s staring out the limo’s window and misses it.
“Don’t try to be funny when we meet them. The Black Adder doesn’t have any measurable sense of humor,” he replies, not a glimpse at me.
“The Black Adder?” I direct my question at Mrs. Hastings.
She swipes a graceful, manicured hand over her cheek, as if fixing her light make-up in an imaginary mirror. “The Narducciis descend from Italy but lived in Argentina for generations. There, the head of the family was always called The Black Adder, as a sign of respect. Now the title is held by the youngest offspring in each generation—the one allowed to claim their powers.”
I tuck away each piece of new information and commit it to memory. “So, you think The Black Adder can help us find out how to undo the joint spell without bloodshed?” The last word burns my throat.
“You will never approach him about the joint spell,” Mrs. Hastings’ voice cuts the air like a knife. “He may be a legacy, but the legacies outside of Elmwick are not your allies. Remember that. The Black Adder can never know what you two are.”
“Then what’s the point in coming here?” I look from her to Zach, confused.
He finally directs his attention to us. “Same as all the other places we went. We need to cement our position, convince them we’re human hunters, nothing more. The Black Adder runs with the underground network of hunters. He’ll introduce us to Oggy—the next hunter looking to unite them now.”
“But that’s not all.” Mrs. Hastings’ jaw tightens. “You will keep your eyes and ears open for any tales of the joint spell. Zach laid the foundation for some research on it last time we visited. He’s...friends with The Black Adder’s daughter.” Her eyes study her son a second too long. “Now will be the time to see what she found out in our absence.”
Zach runs a hand over his freshly shaved face. I don’t have it in me to blurt out a zinger when he looks so nervous.
“We’re here,” he says before the driver has stopped in front of the large wooden gates of The Black Adder’s residence, which by the looks of it is a mansion, plush and decadent, not to mention much newer than our house in Elmwick.
After we’re admitted through the wooden gates, we drive up the gentle hill to the residence, which shows us the scenic lawns and gardens of perfectly shaped cypress trees. We come to a halt in front of the marble staircase to the humongous house, which twinkles in soft gold from the details on the railing.
The butler, judging by his uniform, descends the stairs to welcome us. He opens the limo door for Mrs. Hastings. Zach and I follow out as quietly as we can, though we could never rival her feline grace.
The butler goes for our luggage while we walk up the marble staircase after Mrs. Hastings. Our hosts—three of them—wait for us at the top, by the open gate.
The Black Adder is a man of unimpressive height, but he nonetheless has a boxer’s build that makes me never want to risk offending him. His russet face brightens in polite welcome at us, but his black eyes remain cold.
“Hiram Narduccii,” he introduces himself as we shake hands.
At his side, his wife looks elegant in a simple black dress. Her glossy straight hair falls to her waist. Their daughter—a younger mirror image of her mother—wears wide-rimmed sunglasses and an unreadable expression. It takes me a second to register the white cane she’s clutching. She extends a hand, and I follow Zach’s example in reaching out to shake it in turn.
While the parents exchange pleasantries, Zach gapes around—a far cry from his usual collected self. I elbow him to stop before he draws our hosts’ attention.
“Come in, come in,” Mrs. Narduccii says in a motherly voice that sounds a little too well-trained.
“How’s the campaign going, Hiram?” Mrs. Hastings asks as we walk through the bright and glossy entree, if you can even call a room of this size an entree. Two winding staircases depart from the sides and meet on the upper level. Everything is made of marble—white with faint rosy tones, matched with golden details here and there.
“Campaigning is always the same story,” The Black Adder says. “It’s basically about directing the public attention toward the things you want the voters to see and away from the ones you don’t want them to see.”
“Naturally.”
“Lucia has been such a great help.” Hiram smiles at his wife, then gestures at his daughter. “And did I tell you that Sofia has an online column about getting young adults into politics?”
Mrs. Hastings replies with appropriate enthusiasm to the announcement, but Sofia’s shoulders tighten a little.
We arrive in the similarly plush dining room where brunch is served. The Black Adder probably sits at the head of the table, so Zach and I follow his daughter. I open my mouth to offer to pull out a chair for Sofia, but she uses her cane adeptly to find her seat and maneuver around it.
Zach slides into the chair next to hers, leaving me hovering, still standing, so I
can make out the whispered question he has for her. I hope he won’t inquire about the joint spell now, though if he and Sofia are friends, I suppose he knows best.
But Zach doesn’t ask about the spell. His hand trembles as he rubs above his brow. “Sof? What’s wrong?” His breath seems lodged in his throat. “Where’s Issa?”
She turns to him with the same unreadable expression frozen on her face since we arrived. “Oh, you didn’t hear? She tried sneaking into Oggy’s study. The hunters caught her.”
“What do you mean they caught her?” Zach hisses. “You have an agreement with them. They can’t...do anything to The Black Adder’s heir.”
“Well, they did,” Sofia cuts him off. “Apparently snooping on them crossed a line.”
“Where is she now?” I ask as quietly as I can, seeing as Zach has lost both his desire and his ability to speak.
“I don’t know.” The corners of Sofia’s lips twitch down. “The hunters have her.”
Chapter 12. Mason
Zach stares at his plate in blunt shock all throughout brunch with our hosts, who maintain polite conversation with Mrs. Hastings. Sofia and I eat in near silence as well, only occasionally providing the echo of a chuckle at her father’s plain jokes. That is, until The Black Adder turns to me.
“So, Mason, tell me, how has life treated you since leaving Elmwick?”
The question is general, but in Hiram’s pointed expression, I can read the true meaning of it, so I answer directly.
“It took me a long time to learn everything about the legacies on my own. It’s great to finally speak openly to every hunter I meet. Freeing.”
Sofia cuts her avocado toast mechanically, keeping her face impassive. Lucia, her human mother, only smiles gently, as if waiting for the boring legacy conversation to be over.
But Hiram’s interest in me doesn’t yet wane. “There’s chatter going around about you trying to save the girl, the banshee?”
“I did.” It would be foolish to deny it when they already know. “I cared about her.” The past tense of the verb burns my throat. “And I don’t believe it’s necessary to fight each other.”
Hiram nods, his jaw tight, but it still seems like a gesture of approval. “Neither do we. That’s why we live out here with Oggy’s rules in place.”
“W-what exactly are those rules?” I’ve been briefed by Zach, but I want to hear this impressive man explain with his own words.
“We don’t use our powers, in public or otherwise,” he says dryly. “We often resolve not even to claim them, like Sofia for example. We also keep an eye out for little oddities our hunter friends ask us to track.”
Those eyes of coal fix on me, then move to Zach, who doesn’t even notice, still dazed in his denial. I resist the instinct to glance at Mrs. Hastings to see if she’s gathered as much as I have from this interaction. The Black Adder already suspects us in being hidden legacies.
“And in return?” I keep my voice from wavering as I try to remove his focus from us.
“In return, we can have all this.” He gestures around the luxury of their bright dining room. “As well as the hunters’ protection. Zach knows all about that. He spent a summer as part of our family’s security detail.”
Zach lifts his gaze only to nod, offering no commentary. That must be when he first met Sofia and her sister.
“Speaking of family affairs, Alisha, I’ve noticed you’ve set out to see the new leaders right away, barely allowing yourself the time to grieve.”
Mrs. Hastings clears her throat. “You see what’s happening in our circles. With Vaughn gone, even his closest friends are making a move. Some will even sink so low as to cast my family in very unflattering light.”
Her voice catches. It’s so genuine, I have to remind myself she’s playing them. We’re all playing them.
“It’s happening quickly,” Hiram agrees. “New hunter leaders cropping up, making a bid to be the next one to unite them all.” He takes a measured sip of sparkling water. “Not that it’s working. They’re fracturing and, with them, our faith in the protection they can offer.”
And the threat they pose, is the bit that remains unsaid.
“I’m doing my best to unite them,” Mrs. Hastings says, but her tone is flat this time.
Finally free of her husband and closer to the answers she and Zach want, not to mention a circle that could free Zach, she must be finding it hard to always keep up the pretense.
“In fact,” she interrupts whatever our host was about to say. “I think it might be best if you take the boys to visit Oggy while I continue on my way and visit the next self-appointed head of the hunters. The boys will brief me after they meet Oggy.”
The Black Adder nods, despite the warning look in his wife’s eyes. He refrains from anything but the most placid comment. “A sound plan.”
After we finish eating, Mrs. Narduccii summons the maid and instructs her to get us settled into a guest room on the ground floor. While Mrs. Narduccii and the maid fuss about getting the accommodations ready, Sofia quietly excuses herself and takes the stairs up to the next level. Zach follows her with a sticky glare that promises he’ll interrogate her about her sister as soon as he can.
It takes me a second to become aware of Mrs. Hastings’ whispered conversation with our host. I sharpen my ears as soon as I do, but only catch a quick, “Is this really why you came to visit?” before his discerning glare moves from her and lands on me.
“I should say goodbye to my son before heading out.” Alisha Hastings moves to leave, evading the question lingering in The Black Adder’s eyes.
THE ROOM WE’RE SHOWN to is furnished with two twin beds with pale blue covers, a nightstand next to each, and a small wardrobe. No doubt more decadent accommodations exist in the Narduccii mansion, but as hunters, we might not be welcome to help ourselves to the full luxury.
Zach looks unsurprised. This is probably nicer than the room he was staying at when he lived here. Our suitcases are already piled by the wardrobe, but Mrs. Narduccii whirls around the room, showcasing its features, and reminds us we have our own bathroom.
When Zach’s mother’s lips thin, losing some of their deep color, she finally can’t hold herself back and interrupts, “Can I please have a moment with the boys to say goodbye?”
“Oh, of course.” Mrs. Narduccii sweeps out of the room with practiced tact.
The door clicks shut after her, but for a breathless moment none of us say anything, waiting for the steps on the other side of the wall to fade.
Zach’s mother pierces us with a critical stare. “Listen to me very carefully, both of you. You’ll have to be extremely careful when you search for the clues to undoing the joint spell. Based on the welcome we’ve received, I’m betting the Narducciis will keep a close eye on you. You can’t afford to give them any reason to doubt whose side you’re on, okay?”
“Okay? No, it’s not okay! What about Issa?” Zach’s green eyes gleam with the fire I recognize as my own. “What happened—”
But his mother stops him with a quick gesture of her hand. “You can’t get distracted by whatever happened to her. That’s between the Narducciis and Oggy’s hunters.”
“But what if Issa got the answers we’re looking for?” Zach snaps back, having lost his cool entirely. I can’t say I’ve witnessed that before.
“I imagine if she did, that’s why they took her away.” Mrs. Hastings throws a glance over her shoulder at the door than faces us again. “It was a mistake to confide in her, one she’s paying for right now, which is all the more reason to trust no one but ourselves. Hiram will take you to The Hunters’ Den tonight. First, you need to gain their trust, then you snoop in the archives, if you can find them. Not the other way around. Got it?”
With frozen expressions, Zach and I nod—his reaction lagging behind mine.
“And you bring no one else into this...” she pauses for emphasis, which makes Zach burst out again.
“But Sofia might know what Iss
a found out or why she was taken.”
Alisha Hastings’ nostrils flare in a way becoming of a true fire drake. “I said no. If you snoop about Issa, you challenge the very agreement between the Narducciis and the hunters. None of them will like that. Don’t paint yourself into an enemy before we get the information we need.”
Zach’s shoulders slump, his chest deflating. His mother places a hand on his robust shoulder and gives it a brief squeeze.
“Remember,” she whispers. “We’re the hidden legacies. We must play double agents. We must keep focused on the joint spell, even when it costs us something we care about.”
Zach swallows noisily, and she takes it as confirmation.
“Watch each other’s backs, all right?” She glances back and forth between the two of us until we both nod. “I’ll be in touch after my visit with the fifth new leader.”
She purses her lips, uncertain for a moment, which is, in itself, a rare occurrence. Then, she draws Zach into a firm embrace and departs. The click-clack of her heels hasn’t faded yet, but Zach falls backward onto the bed with a huff.
“Hey man.” I flinch, searching for the right words. “I know this sucks, but if we get ourselves caught and exposed, we wouldn’t help Issa either.”
He stares blankly at the ceiling and sighs. “Don’t you get it? She’s in trouble because of me.”
“I get it.” To show I mean it, I prod a little. “This Issa... Is she your—”
Zach doesn’t bristle as expected. “She’s something to me, all right? Just haven’t figured out what yet.”
Chapter 13. Mason
Dinner at the Narduccii residence is served early, giving us plenty of time to digest our food and change into the nondescript clothing apparently required for us to fit right into The Hunters’ Den where we’re headed to meet Oggy. Zach, Hiram, and I leave in a sleek but less fancy ride, probably so as not to attract unwanted attention.