by Laney McMann
Next he knew, he’d shifted into his avian form of an osprey and flown as if being guided to the doorstep of his uncle. Without knocking, the door had opened, and a man with ebony skin and brilliant blue eyes stared down at him, smiling.
“Good boy.” He’d patted him on the shoulder and beckoned him inside. “You answered my call.”
Shaking his head in disgust at the memory, the man marched up the stone steps of the Gesuati Church and slammed the chamber door shut behind him.
“Ah, come on. It wasn’t that bad.” Cole smirked, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it on the tailgate of Danny’s Toyota Tacoma.
“Just shut up.” Danny hacked up a hunk of black gunk and spit it out onto the ground at his feet, wiping his mouth. They’d all been covered in black ash and sludge from the pit.
“Both of you are idiots.” Lindsey shoved Cole out of the way and climbed in the back seat of the truck, parked in the alley near the hollow sidewalk tunnel, her face black with smudges of soot.
“Maybe get the crap off your shoes before you get in my car?” Danny huffed, but Lindsey ignored him, staying put.
Laughing, Cole kicked the mud and goop from his dark brown Vans shoes against the wheel of the truck. “You going to stay mad all day?”
Danny stared, straight-faced, searing green eyes boring into Cole’s. “We fell into the abyss, basically. No, what am I saying? We dove into it. Willingly.”
Cole laughed harder. “Well, what’d you want me to do? Nothing? And I’m not sure what it was, I’ll give you that, but we got out, so it’s all good.” He grabbed his jacket and closed the tailgate.
Lindsey leaned forward from the backseat. “Can we go already? Damn.”
“All good?” Danny eyed Cole and cursed under his breath, yanking the driver’s door open. “We barely got out before the shaft, or whatever the hell it was, collapsed.”
“You know you sound like Giselle right now.” Cole jumped in the passenger’s side.
“You kinda do sound like your sister,” Lindsey added, arms crossed and scowling.
Danny yanked the sun visor down looking in the tiny mirror. Scratches and dots of blood covered one side of his face. He eyed Cole. “Just don’t try to use me as bait next time. Not when you can’t hit your target.”
“I can hit my target.” Cole smirked. “And I didn’t try to use you as bait. We decided that the next time we were investigating a shaft, you’d go first. Remember? It was your turn to get covered in reptile funk and coal ash first. I can’t help it that you were scared to go because the shaft opened up into—”
“Hell?” Danny turned his head and stared. “It opened into hell, Cole.”
Cole laughed harder.
“And I was not scared.”
“Right.”
“Seriously, you guys.” Lindsey let out an aggravated sigh. “Let’s go.”
Danny looked like he wanted to hit Cole, his expression mutinous. “How is this funny to you?” He shoved the sun visor up, revved the engine, and ground the truck into first gear. “We could’ve gotten killed.”
“But we didn’t. And I’ve been to hell,” Cole said, rolling down his window and trying to brush the black marks of ash from his jacket. “That wasn’t it.”
Danny’s eyes shifted toward him again, but he didn’t say anything.
The scars on Cole’s back was the hell he meant. And Cole knew Danny would end the topic of hell after that.
“I think you should take some pitching lessons to help with your aim.” Danny drove down a dark alleyway between the ice cream shop downtown and the old club Bangerang, which no one had gone to since Crystalline opened years before. "I mean, be honest, Cole, you've got shitty aim when it comes to throwing your telum. It's your one weakness. We could have died down there in that shaft. How many Nefarius have outrun you because you can't make the shot?" He wiped his hand on his jeans, but it was no use, the soot remained.
"None have outrun me." Cole shook his head. "And you want me to take pitching lessons?" He raised a brow. "Where? The local YMCA? Maybe I should join a Little League team since, apparently, I suck that bad. I'll fit right in with eight-year-olds."
"That's all I'm saying." Danny turned out of the alley and onto the main road in downtown Boulder, Colorado. "And while we're at it, can we switch up the driving thing at some point?”
Lindsey groaned from the backseat.
"Why are you in such a bad mood today?” Cole snapped.
“Um … didn’t we just establish that we fell into the black abyss and almost stayed there for eternity? And I’m not in a bad mood. I'm just saying. I get why Kade has to stay under the radar, since Dracon was killed and her Astrum necklace showed up in her bedroom. And I know you have to ride with her to school every day, but maybe she could drive the Jeep once in a while, or the Tacoma, or maybe we could all ride in the MINI, so we can take turns driving. I’m tired of being your chauffeur after school every day." Danny motioned between himself and Cole, his hand black with soot. "We." He turned away from downtown, past The Brew and the dress and tuxedo shop, and headed toward the mountains.
“What is your problem? Besides the fact that no one else should be seen driving the MINI, but Kade—or me—until we get clearance from Warden Caelius, or the fact that the three of us would barely even fit inside of it, you’re not my chauffeur. And why in the hell would all three of us be driving together?” Cole countered. “And if she’s showing up at school without her car because she’s riding in the Tacoma or the Jeep with us, then … yeah, that’s not suspicious as hell or anything. Everyone believes she’s a Primeva, not a Primori, so she can’t be riding around with us. What are you even saying? Maybe you ingested too much coal dust.” Cole flicked a few bits of thick dried mud off his jacket and out the window. “And even if that was an option, which it’s not, you would want Kade to drive your truck? She's like five foot three inches tall. She wouldn't even be able to see over the dashboard.”
“Shut up, you guys,” Lindsey said, rubbing her temples.
"Like your Jeep is any smaller?” Danny complained, ignoring Lindsey. “Kade drives that sometimes. Her chest comes to the top of the tires."
"I rigged the seat so it pulls up closer to the steering wheel,” Cole argued. “She can see fine now. And it’s only once in a while that she drives it. Hardly ever.”
“Really?” Danny griped. “She can see fine now? She needs a ladder just to get in the driver's seat.”
"And that makes you think the Tacoma is better?" Cole's brows cocked upward. "That's stupid. Just because you’re pissed about the shaft—“
"Oh, my god! Will you both shut up!" Lindsey leaned forward from the back, her cheek and neck smudged black and dotted in small cuts. "It's like hanging out with three year olds! You’re giving me a headache.”
“You didn't have to come," Danny snapped.
“You asked me to come!”
“Fine. Whatever. Let's drop it.” Danny eyed Cole as they drove up the steep mountain road. “It was just an idea, driving together. Not a big deal.”
“Fine,” Cole relented. “After we talk to Warden Caelius, maybe we can ride together once in a while if he’s okay with it. Once in a while.”
“I know it wasn’t your fault we almost died.” Danny smirked a little. “Sorry I blamed you.”
“It’s okay.”
"You do suck at throwing, though, Cole.” Lindsey leaned back in her seat. "Just saying."
“Shut up.”
Danny shifted his attention to Cole, his expression serious again. “I’d know that smell from the tunnel anywhere.”
Cole’s jaw tightened and he glanced out the window. He’d know Dracon’s smell anywhere, too. He also knew the unmistakable coppery smell of blood.
“The Nefarius were guarding something,” Danny went on. “Was it him?”
Cole’s gaze remained outside the window, watching the barren trees fly by in a white-brown blur. “Couldn’t have been.”
Chapter 2
>
The sparrow sat outside the lower window of the basilica, perched on a small Umbrella Pine, its head tilted to the side as though it stared through the glass and into the low-lit room of the old building. Light brown plumage puffed up around its neck and head, and its feathers blew outward in the stiff, cold wind. Blending with its surroundings, the little bird became a part of the tree itself, naked to most eyes. The perfect camouflage.
The falcon saw it, though. Its taloned feet gripped a higher limb of the pine, its keen vision focused toward the small bird several feet below. Blinking its large, wide, black eyes, the falcon watched the sparrow—and the owl three branches over, hidden almost completely by the crumbling dark bark of the Umbrella Pine's trunk watched the sparrow as well.
The sparrow tilted its head again, small dark eyes blinking before it directed its focus upward into the pine. The falcon stared back. Turning its light brown head, the little bird flew down from the safety of the tree and landed on the narrow window ledge of the worn building. The glass was fogged over from the cold. The sparrow leaned forward, tapping lightly on the window with its beak.
The owl took its opportunity and swooped, speeding toward the little bird's back. By the time the sparrow would see it coming, it would be too late.
Releasing its iron grip, the falcon tucked its wings, and dove.
One second.
Two seconds.
A high-pitched screech, followed by sickening silence, and the owl's lifeless body careened, colliding with the side of the ancient stucco building.
With dark wings spread wide, the falcon redirected its mid-flight trajectory and came to rest on the window sill. Beside the sparrow.
Kadence opened her eyes and rolled onto her back in bed, the center of her palm burning. She opened her hand and peered at the red web of lines spread across it. She kept thinking it had faded some. Kicking the comforter to the side from her legs, she felt the leftover chill of another cold Boulder, Colorado night as it seeped in through the underground walls of the bunker. Noises from the Brotherhood overhead reached her as the common house began to stir.
Her half-awake vision tracked over the plain white ceiling as she got her bearings. It was the third night in a row she’d had the same dream. The third morning she’d been woken up by her palm burning. She hadn’t mentioned it to Cole yet. He’d been so preoccupied since her Astrum necklace had shown up in her bedroom days before. Surely if his palm was bothering him, he would have mentioned it to her.
Kade still wasn’t completely accustomed to waking up in the bunker underneath the Brotherhood. It was as comfortable as it could be considering her possibly risen-from-the-dead dad might have broken in days ago. Which was to say, not very comfortable at all. After the incident, she had slept on the couch, refusing to go into her bedroom where her Astrum necklace had been found nestled on her nightstand. There had been no footprints, no traces of breaking and entering, no evidence of any kind that someone had infiltrated the Brotherhood common house. Yet the necklace had still sat there, wound in a perfect circle of gold, the tiny star glinting on its chain. And the only person who could have put it there … was dead.
Cole had argued with Plumb, the Brotherhood’s Lead, who was in charge of all the kids in the common house, about staying in the bunker with Kade for her safety, but he only ended up breathless and livid when he lost the argument. So, with Plumb’s help, they’d transferred all of Kade’s clothes and toiletries into the bedroom across the living room. Cole had offered to move the bedroom furniture as well, like he’d done when he moved it from Kade’s dad’s house and into the Brotherhood’s bunker, but it was just too creepy to use, so Kade had settled into the other bedroom, thankful to have furniture with no previous connection to her.
Her old furniture had been moved back to her father’s, her uncle’s—whoever the man was—house, and her Astrum necklace had been taken to the Ward in Rome. New locks had been fitted throughout the entire Brotherhood compound, including her small apartment in the underground bunker.
The bedroom she now occupied had a large black, wooden bed, probably queen-sized, draped in an overstuffed white down comforter and big fluffy pillows. She felt lost in it. The bathroom was identical to the other one, all white marble with a garden tub and separate shower. She felt a little bad about being in the lap of luxury compared to everyone else in the common house above who lived in small dorm rooms.
The day Kade discovered her Astrum necklace on her bedside table after Dracon’s death, Cole had gone from looking forward to taking a short break and spending some time alone with her to full-blown Daemoneum-hunting alert. In response to his panic, the two of them hadn’t announced their relationship like he’d wanted to, and when Kade wasn’t at school, she’d been spending more and more time stuck in the underground bunker to keep her safe, hidden, and out of the hands of anyone searching for her. Cole had even persuaded Warden Caelius to assign Kade a roommate.
“Are you ready yet?” Giselle yelled from the small kitchen in the bunker. “Good god, why are you always so damn slow?”
The rich aroma of brewed coffee hit Kade. She laughed under her breath, hopped out of bed, and threw her clothes on. It had been three days since their new living arrangement began, and she still wasn’t sure how the Warden and Plumb—or likely Cole—was pulling it off. Giselle was a member of the Kinship, the Brotherhood’s arch rival, and even though they were working for the same cause—protecting the Planes from Daemoneum threats—friendships between the two common houses were unheard of.
Granted, Giselle and Kade had been friends since Kade moved to Boulder. Initially, Giselle had believed Kade was a Primeva like her and all of the Kinship, and not a Primori like Cole and all of the Brotherhood. Turned out that wasn’t the case. Kade was neither. She was her own breed of crazy. Which was why the Daemoneum wanted her.
Of course, the attack on Kade had run the rumor mill, and although the specifics hadn’t been released by the Warden, Alex and Kyle’s deaths hung heavily on everyone. The Brotherhood and the Kinship were on high alert in response, but besides the Warden, Plumb, Cole, Giselle, Danny, and Lindsey, no one knew Kade was the reason for the attack or that she was being hidden in the Brotherhood. It made coming and going tricky.
Kade couldn’t wander around the common house like everyone else or have meals with the rest of the kids. Instead, she had to stick to the bunker apartment. She still wasn’t sure how Giselle was managing to get in and out of the Brotherhood with no one seeming to notice. As one of the Kinship, the common houses weren’t known for being friendly toward each other, so Giselle knocking on the front door seemed unlikely. Kade guessed Plumb was sneaking her in and out. She didn’t really care how she was getting in. She was just glad not to be alone.
Kade walked into the small living room. “I’m really not that slow; you’re just really impatient.”
“Whatever.” Giselle stood with her tiny pink purse hanging from her wrist, a hand on one hip, and a half-drunk cup of coffee in the other. “I hate being late.”
“You’re always late, G. I thought we were going out to get coffee this morning?”
“And?”
Kade forced a fake smile, eyeing the cup in her hand. Giselle, it turned out, was not a morning person. Kade wasn’t sure what time of the day person she was. “Let me get my coat.”
“Have you looked in the mirror?” Giselle scoffed. “A brush, maybe? And don’t take sides with Lindsey. I am not always late.”
“Not taking sides, just pointing it out.” Kade went into her bathroom and brushed her long hair. Giselle was right; it wasn’t good. Walking out, Giselle stood at the front door, beckoning Kade to hurry. With a yawn, she followed.
Sconces lined the hallway walls and illuminated the stone floor. It gave the impression of an underground tunnel leading to a dungeon rather than a network of hallways and storage areas running underneath the Brotherhood compound. Kade had explored a bit—not much considering the Daemoneum might have found some way in
to the bunker that her protectors hadn’t found yet, but she’d walked around some. On one of her excursions, she’d followed a stairwell upward and discovered a massive hidden terrarium on the roof. Plumb had been there, covered from head to foot in dirt, and a big smile spread on her face when she’d spotted Kade.
“It’s beautiful,” Kade had said. The always-gray clouds in Boulder seemed to lighten at the higher vantage point. Maybe it was all the flourishing green plants and glistening water droplets clinging to the leaves that made it feel brighter than anything she’d seen so far in Colorado. She hadn’t been sure, but standing there in the terrarium, she’d loved it.
“Do you garden?” Plumb asked her, wiping her forehead with a dirty glove.
Kade shook her head, slightly mesmerized by the sheer size of it. Rows upon green rows covered every inch of a huge section of the roof. It had to be as big as half a football field, she’d thought.
“I can always use help, if you’d like to learn,” Plumb said. “A lot of the kids get community service hours up here for graduation.”
“Oh.” She’d nodded. “I think I’d like that.”
“It’s a bit of challenge to take grocery store trips to feed you kids.” Plumb had grinned. “The garden is a win-win. And it gets me out of my office for a little while, away from all the craziness that always seems to go on, and it teaches you how to grow your own food.”
Kade could see that. She would like to get lost, engrossed in all the plants for a while. “Are these asparagus?” she had asked.
“Yup.”
Giselle snapped her fingers in front of Kade’s face, bringing her out of the memory. “Hello? Space Kadet? You with me?”
“Sorry.” Kade blinked, aware of the darkened hallway surroundings again.
“Plumb’s waiting for us at the loading dock.” Giselle walked down the hall in the opposite direction from the only exit Kade knew.
“Loading dock?”
Giselle stopped and turned around, eyebrows crunched in annoyance. “You think I’ve been parking out front every time I’ve come here?”
