Mind you, I don’t expect the transition to go smoothly. Hardly a day goes by when I don’t get pitched by heads of the different branches. They disguise their ambition under proposed hunts for long-lost families or bids for more responsibilities at our legacy confinement facilities, but I see these asks for what they are: ambitious grabs for power.
I find the hunters’ efforts commendable, but their focus lacking. That’s why it has to be you. You need to lead our people by showing them the true danger, by keeping them from spending time and energy tracing rogue wolf packs or stray lions.
Don’t get your vision muddled by such small goals. Remember what we always talked about. Remember the ones that can truly tip the balance of power in the legacies’ favor.
Keep hunting the banshees. They are the key. Keep them secure, far from the rest of the legacies, so that new circles may never form.
As for the circle in Elmwick, I’m handling it. We have to take out one of the members in the banshee’s circle, and it will collapse. The cold one, the wolf, and the viper may be hard to deal with. Even the lion. But I have my eye on the charmer. One bullet to the head is all it would take for our biggest problem to disappear.
Should I fail, you will need to take on this task. Do it, break the circle, and no hunter will dispute your role as head of the Guild.
Now on to the other pressing danger you must deal with.
If I am dead, you must look closer, as closely as you can, into the circumstances of my demise. You must hunt for any traces of powers, any wisp of fire. If you find such evidence, then it is true. I’ve come across one of them.
My father called them dragons, though I’ve heard them mentioned as drakes too. It hardly matters.
The hidden legacies are real.
My investigation into Elmwick hasn’t revealed any of them yet, though I must say the Fowler family qualifies for a thorough examination, no matter what Diane says. I will attempt to get my daughter out of there before they’ve corrupted her mind, but you must be wary of old Fowler and his son, Mason.
If any of them should come sniffing about after my death, you’ve got to act swiftly and bring them in.
Chances are, the boy won’t have freed his powers yet, so you could easily restrain him. Though you’d be wise to test him in a fight first, just in case.
Keep the Narduccii girl under high security too. Make an example of her. The legacies must know that even collaborating with us doesn’t exempt them from paying for the highest offenses. She’s a bargaining chip you must not gamble away.
For everything else, you know what to do.
Good luck, my old friend.
My fight may be over, but you’ll keep it alive for the rest of us.
- Vaughn
Zach and I stare at each other for a split second before I start pacing. The study feels stuffier and smaller than it did before, as if its walls are closing in, trying to crush us.
“There’s no way we’ll make it out of here if we go back through this door.” My throat is dry, making my voice hoarse. “We have to try the vents.”
My gaze lands on the dusty vent grille. It looks like it’s going to be a tight fit. Not to mention it’s a slow escape route. The hunters will surely burst in here any minute.
Foolish. We were so foolish to come here and fall into this trap. I’ve always been high on their list of suspects, it seems, but now I’ve dragged Zach down with me. I’ve blown the carefully crafted cover he’s been maintaining all his life.
“Zach?” I call out, only now realizing that, while I’m about to crawl out of my skin from the tension, he’s completely still. “We have to get out of here. Now!”
I reach out and grasp his shoulder to shake him. That seems to jolt him, but Zach only rolls his shoulder back, trying to get out of my grip.
“It must be here,” he murmurs.
I pull him back. “We don’t have time for this. Let’s go!”
He glares at me over his shoulder, jaw tight. “I can’t leave without finding out where they’re keeping Issa. You read the end of that letter. They have no intention of letting her go.”
He types madly into the search box, trying to filter through the contents of the folder, but the hunters don’t seem to have used Issa’s name in their files. Smart.
My heartbeat booms and echoes in my chest. We have minutes left, seconds perhaps.
I focus my attention on our escape route, trying to find something to pry open the vent grille. That’s when I hear it—a noise from above. The hollow thumping of someone moving right above us.
“They’ve got us,” I warn Zach, who’s still stubbornly sifting through files in the folder.
“I just need a minute,” he insists.
“We don’t have a minute.” I’m done. “I can’t fight them alone, Zach. Focus!”
But my plea comes too late. A tile on the ceiling moves, opening a hole in it, like a trapdoor on the level above us. Through it pops the head of a girl about our age. She has a pale, heart-shaped face. Her pixie-cut hair is tied into two horn-like twisty buns and dyed a striking, artificial red.
She takes stock of us inside the room, then clears her throat and says, “If you want to live, now would be a good time to get out of here. Follow me.”
I hesitate, but only for a second. This isn’t the time to bite at the helping hand she’s offered us. I stomp over to Zach’s side, push him aside despite his protest, and close the folder he was browsing, then shut the computer.
I turn to my friend with a frigid expression. “I’m sorry about Issa, but we can’t help her now. Don’t you get what that letter means? They were on to me. Now they’re on to you and quite possibly your mother. We need to get out of here so we can warn her.”
The mention of his mother and the threat to her safety finally makes Zach jump back into action, temporarily abandoning his quest for Issa’s whereabouts. I nod at him, grateful.
The girl makes space for us, moving away from the trapdoor. With Zach’s help to boost me up, I manage to pull myself up through the hole in the ceiling. I crawl on all fours to clear the trapdoor for him to follow. Once Zach is upstairs with us, the girl replaces the lid and exhales with relief.
She moves her wrist as if to check the time, but the bulky device doesn’t seem like a watch. She keeps looking at it in concentration, not paying us further attention.
“Ahem, thanks... Err...” I stutter, hoping she’d fill the silence and give us her name.
Still staring at her wrist, she does no such thing.
Zach cranes his neck, looking over her shoulder. “It’s a db-level monitor to detect noise.”
“Hey, ahm, who are you?” I ask the girl, but she still doesn’t look up.
That’s when it dawns on me. I approach her and gently place a hand on her arm. She jolts and finally looks up.
“Can you hear me?” I try to enunciate well, feeling uncomfortably dense about how to make this easier for her. I wish I knew sign language, like Cami.
“No,” she whispers, eyes tracing the movements of my lips, then she presses a finger to her thin mouth and shushes me.
Another moment passes before she glances up again. “Okay, they haven’t entered the study yet. They must be mobilizing and cutting off the exits. We need to go now.”
I stop her with a gesture of my hand. “Are you...?”
“I’m Tasha.” She blinks at me, eyelids bathed in black make-up. “Yes, I’m a banshee. No, I don’t have my powers. And, yes, when I had them, I saw this moment, so I know how to get us out. But we need to hurry, okay?”
Chapter 15. Mason
Questions slosh inside my head, but the adrenaline coursing through my veins makes me nod. Tasha shushes us again, eying her noise monitor. I guess it’s how she makes sure her sneaky activities run under the hunters’ radar.
The room on this level doesn’t have a window either. I guess we have waded too deep into Oggy’s compound, but that doesn’t seem to startle Tasha. She blocks the door w
ith a chair, then climbs on the desk and reaches for another tile on the ceiling. The entire Hunters’ Den must be connected this way.
“Wait.” I wave to attract Tasha’s attention. “If we block the door from the inside, they’ll know we got out from this room. Your secret escape route would be compromised.”
She levels me with a flat stare and huffs. “There is a horde of them coming to check this room as we speak. Zach will barely manage to climb up before they get him. Don’t argue. Just follow me.”
Zach and I share a glance, blanching, then he gives Tasha and me a boost to the next level. There’s banging on the door by the time Zach pulls himself up. Judging by the tremors traveling up the thin walls, the chair barricade won’t hold for long.
I grab Zach by the shirt and haul him up in one swift movement that makes my entire left side spasm in pain.
Tasha replaces the tile on the floor. “Use that.” She gestures to a shelf that looks heavy.
Ribs and lungs protesting with searing pain, I help Zach push the shelf over the tile, which now bangs up as the hunters try to get to us. But a cursory look of this new room is enough to give me hope.
There’s a window. We’re on the ground floor.
Zach rushes to open it, then removes the mosquito net and looks down. “An easy jump. Let’s go.” He waves Tasha over first.
“I’m not coming with you,” she whispers.
Zach and I gape at her, disregarding the thumping from the level below. How long would it take the hunters to go the long way around and get up here? Minutes? Seconds?
“Come with us,” I plead. “We’ll help you.”
Tasha shakes her head. “If I try to escape, they’ll only come after me harder. You don’t understand how they fear us banshees. With or without our powers, we’re the biggest threat to the hunters.”
Panic unfurls in my chest. “We can’t leave you here with them.”
“I’ve been with them for years. There’s nothing they can do to me now, except keep me. Keep us.”
“Are you saying that more banshees are trapped here?” Zach’s expression turns sickly as he frowns.
“We don’t have time,” Tasha cuts him off. “I have a message for you.” Her gaze flies up to meet mine. “You can’t fight your nature, so you need to stop trying. You were never just a hunter, and now that you finally know it, you shouldn’t be ignoring your heritage. Don’t be afraid of it.”
I open my mouth to argue back, but she stops me with a tight-lipped grimace.
“You can’t change who you are, but you can live with it. Just ask Cami.”
At the mention of her name, a tremor rolls over my entire body. “You know Cami?”
Her features melt into a gauzy smile. “Not yet.”
I run my hand up and down my face, rubbing it. Why can’t the legacies ever make sense when they try to explain something?
“You need to work with Cami, help her stabilize the circle. Nothing can prevent what’s coming, what she’s seen, so don’t expend your energy fighting it. Look for a way to survive it.”
“Err...” Zach says, but she silences him with a piercing glare, then checks her wrist monitor for the faint sounds of footsteps. “They’re coming.”
I scan the street outside. “It’s clear. We need to go now.”
I climb over the windowsill with one hand on my ribs to brace against the pain of each movement. Cold sweat slicks my back, making my t-shirt stick to my skin.
Tasha grabs the back of my t-shirt to force me to look back at her before I jump. “There’s something Cami has to know. You need to tell her to come find me.”
“I’m not asking Cami to come here!” I blurt as the steps on the other side of the door sound closer. “They’ll kill her.”
“They won’t.”
“Oh, well, I guess you’ve seen that as well.” The sarcasm is hard to bite back.
Her no-nonsense expression doesn’t dignify that with a reaction. “Listen to me. Cami will find what she’s missing when she speaks to her grandma.”
“Are you saying her grandma is trapped here like you?” Zach says at the exact moment when a heavy body collides with the door, trying to break it down.
“They’ll send hunters to the alley. Go!” Tasha lets go of my t-shirt, but when I don’t jump, she snaps, “Now!”
And she pushes me off the ledge. The drop is not far, child’s play compared to my getaway route back at home. I land with bent knees, growl as the motion reverberates through my bruised ribs, and limp off to clear the area for Zach to follow.
He lands heavily a second later. We both look up to the window, hoping Tasha will follow, but she slams it shut. I can’t help the bad feeling that sinks into my stomach, but I doubt we could have convinced her to come with us, even if we had more time.
We scurry out of the alley, looking for cover. Since we arrived in Hiram’s car, I presume we lost our ride. Zach is onto a solution, though. He gets on his phone to find us a ride while we keep moving, lurking behind corners and hiding behind trashcans. This is a less-than-glamorous neighborhood, but the tightly packed buildings help us hide.
While we wait for our ride, on edge because of the hunters prowling the streets in search of us, I feel the weight of my phone in my pocket. Tasha’s message for Cami echoes inside my head.
During the fight, I longed to see Cami, talk to her, and kiss her just once more, but now that I’m free to reach out, my body feels paralyzed. My deep exhale ends in a groan. With the hunters in pursuit, I don’t have the luxury of debating my next move.
I pull out my phone, go through my list of contacts, and let my finger hover over Cami’s name for a second before I press it. At the first ring, I sullenly remember she hasn’t reached out to me these past few weeks either, but I push that thought down.
“Hello?” Her clear voice makes me gulp a lungful of air.
“Cami?” I don’t know why I ask. Probably to stall while I figure out which part of Tasha’s message to share with her first. “You need to get here.”
“To the Narduccii residence?” Her voice quivers.
“How did you...?”
“Bryar traced you there with the help of Fiona Davis.” A dead beat of silence. “We’re leaving soon. Jean has a way in with the Narducciis. Stay put.”
“Wait!” I’m afraid she’ll hang up, if the chill in her voice is any indication. “There’s something you should know... I think your grandma is here. With the local hunters.”
Cami’s facade crumbles at once. I sense it in her shaky voice. “What? Have you seen her? Are they threatening her?”
“I can’t explain now.” Or rather, it’s such a convoluted story that I’d prefer recounting it once Zach and I are out of range of the horde of hunters coming at us. “But I’ve seen another banshee here—one with unclaimed powers. She wanted me to relay a message to you.”
I hesitate, ducking behind the trashcan to check for any sign of the hunters.
“What message?” Judging by her tone, she’s working hard to move past the ludicrous news I’ve brought her.
For a moment, I desperately wish she were here so that I could tear down the invisible barrier making things awkward between us. “Something like... Don’t look for a way to prevent what’s coming, but a way to survive it. And that the piece of the puzzle you’re missing is here. Whatever that—”
But I’m cut off by a squeal on the line, then Jean, sounding farther from the receiver, says, “The clue from the banshee room? Is it possible?”
I have no idea what clue she means, but Cami says, “If there are other banshees out there, even ones who didn’t claim their powers, they might know where the clue is! They might have it.”
I swallow, waiting for her to return to our conversation as the voices of those in her circle intermingle into a cacophony of questions.
“Mason,” Cami says as the rest of the voices quiet. She must be walking away from the group. “We’re coming to get you and my grandma. Stay at the Na
rduccii residence until we get there.”
“That might not be the best idea. Our gracious host just fed us to the wolves.”
“We don’t know that for sure!” Zach hisses at my side, then peeks around the corner. “Our ride is here.”
I follow him to the taxi he’s called, and we slip into the back seat one after the other as quickly as we can.
“Zach has a soft spot for the Narduccii family.” Cami doesn’t react to that, so I add, “I’ll text you if we leave there.”
I don’t want to say, If we need to escape their place.
“Great.” She sounds mortified, but I appreciate the sentiment behind her words. “Then we’ll get the banshees and figure out how to break the joint spell and—”
“Cami, you can’t!”
The taxi speeds out of that neighborhood, wind whistling against the windows, but my insides fill with dread.
“Tell me that’s not what you’re trying to do!”
“Well...” She hesitates. “We’ve hit some snags to be sure.”
“No, not snags—show-stoppers.” I almost want to yell at her, but my throat swells, making that impossible. “You couldn’t survive that.”
Surely that’s not what Tasha meant. It couldn’t be. Though, at the same time, she did say I had to embrace my heritage. That would mean breaking the joint spell.
I shake my head, unable to figure this out right now. In any case, I have to warn Cami.
She sighs. “Yes, I know, Awan has received a warning that the cost of breaking the joint spell is the lion’s life, but if this banshee says there’s a way to survive that—”
“Cami, stop,” I cut her off again, my heart thumping small, terrified beats. “It’s not just the lion. If you attempt to break the joint spell, they will all die. Your entire circle...” The words taste ashen on my tongue. “Everyone but you and the hidden legacy.”
Chapter 16. Mason
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