by T. G. Ayer
“But we’ve talked about it with each other for a while now,” I said, a little confused.
“I didn’t discuss it with anyone within the Federation,” she replied, her eyes guileless. “The agreement with the SHC was that I’d reveal nothing about the five of us to anyone else, even my superiors. For safety reasons. This whole thing is way bigger than we ever believed.”
“But the Federation, your superiors…they may suspect me. Especially after today’s drama.” I plucked at my lip, worried as I voiced my fears.
Cassie shook her head. “That’s not a given. Not unless they are told the fae king’s real reason for wanting Ivy. I still have to chat with her regarding that. I have a feeling she’s holding out on me.”
I pursed my lips and gave a guilty smile. “Sorry. She told me. And we need to have a meeting, the five of us. I’ll fill you all in then. For now, we need to focus on Saleem. As soon as we get back, we have to deal with Ivy’s fae debacle.”
Cassie sighed and settled back against the seat. “Okay. Let’s just hope this is a quick mission. I’m not a very patient girl, and I really want to know why the fae are after Ivy.”
“Don’t worry. You’ll find out soon enough. And I can assure you, it’s not at all what you think.” I smiled serenely.
Cassie rolled her eyes. “Thanks for upping the mystery factor. Now I’m dying to know.”
Patting her hand gently, I said, “Sorry. Just hang in there. A little mystery never killed anyone.”
The glare she gave me was deadly.
16
Cassie headed off to get some rest. Her meeting with Director Gilfillan was first thing in the morning so she had time to rest up beforehand. Still, something told me the space-agent was well capable of dosing herself with tech to keep her awake, or fall asleep, whenever she needed. What else did she have going on that she hadn't owned up to?
Honestly, Cassie's business wasn't anything to do with me until it was. Or until it had to do with the Ni’amh.
Right now, I had to direct my focus from Cassie to Saleem and Mel and the mission to Mithras. But instead, I found myself returning to the scene of the destruction of my home, both literally and figuratively.
Cassie and I had parted ways on the edge of the warehouse district where on one side I could see the Great Ash, the Tree of Life, which had slowly begun to regain its life after being poisoned by the fae, and on the other, in the distance, the abandoned quarter where the air still undulated with magic which had leaked through the Veil during the conflagration years ago.
How and why the conflagration happened in the first place was still a hushed secret, but everyone knew that the great trees had sprung up all across the world, symbols of hope in a time of strife, as though some greater entity had sown the seeds in the hopes that the very growing of those great ash trees would balance the dead spots caused by the spilling of darkest magic into our realm.
Through most of my journey home, my mind busied itself going over the events of the previous evening, but when I reached the edge of our lawn and stared out at the front of our home, a disembodied fist grabbed hold of my heart and twisted viciously. The walls of our living room had been covered in black tarp to ward off the elements, but from this distance they appeared open wounds in the façade where chunks of bricks had been blasted away with the force of the final explosion.
It would take weeks to rebuild, it was best, for now, to refrain from doing anything to bring attention to the house. Would the fact that we'd begun repairs on the building just piss Ainwyllian off even more? Or had I just been overly paranoid?
He'd failed to gain control of Grams, and now he would be unable to find her. Would he have sent spies to watch the house in case she returned? He wasn't stupid, and even I wouldn't be so reckless so as to not keep an eye on the place in case she dared to return.
The thought made me stiffen, made me suddenly all too aware of the shadows within the forest, made me almost feel like there were eyes watching me from between the trees that ringed the property.
But my feline senses didn't pick up any scents other than the familiar ones of the local security, likely already despatched to watch the house. Still, even the lack of an intruder’s scent didn't guarantee the fae trackers weren’t around.
I wasn't entirely educated on the nature of the fae, but I wouldn't be surprised to find they were able to cover their scents in order to avoid being tracked. Or perhaps even that their physiology was unique in that they didn't let off any odors.
I shook my head. I was confusing too many issues and overthinking things. If anyone were watching us, they wouldn't be seeing much other than the remains of Grams’ family sifting through the destroyed remnants of their home.
I walked up the pathway, boots crunching on the gravel as I approached the living room.
Sunlight streamed down on my head, as I pushed back the flap of thick tarp protecting the bare patio doors along the two walls leading out onto the lawn. Inside, the living room was drenched in darkness, shadows hiding the worst of the destruction.
Shadows which seemed to want to ease the stark reality of the devastation our fae kin had left in their wake. My stomach clenched as I picked my way past the heavy dresser, feline sight drawn to the fore as I walked over to the pile of glass and wood bits that had been our mementoes and memories.
What a huge waste.
A spot of yellow light tracked through the living room, and I started, spinning around, ready to battle with the intruder. Only the owner of the flashlight was no intruder.
Lily rushed toward me the moment her eyes fell on me, her face contorted with anger and fear. She didn't stop until she was right in front of me, and then she only drew to a halt to shove my shoulder hard. "What the hell is the matter with you?" she yelled, anger bringing tears to her eyes.
"Lily," said a warning voice from behind her. Baz drew into the light, his expression worried and upset as he too surveyed the damage.
"You stay out of this. She had no right," Lily spat over her shoulder before swirling around to face me. "How could you?"
I sighed, waiting patiently for her to voice what exactly had upset her so badly. Lily usually got so caught up in her emotions that she struggled to express them in a way the people around her could understand. I'd found it best to be patient and give her time to collect her thoughts and finally put her argument together, so it made some sense before she voiced it.
Lily took a deep breath, he pale hair fluttering in a breeze, honey eyes darkening to amber. "This is our home too," she said, her voice quavering. "You had no right keeping us away. We should have been here to fight for it too, to keep it safe," she said, tears warping her voice. Then she took a shuddering breath and threw herself into my arms, sobs dampened as she cried into my shoulder.
Oh, Lils.
17
I held Lily tight, hand over the back of her head, all too aware of how much the Odel home meant to Lily. The pariah lynx walker who'd once hated the very sight of me had become a sister, adopting my parents and my home with a wholehearted passion that had surprised me and had given me hope.
We'd both suffered in the wake of Anjelo's death, and even now I wondered if she'd truly managed to move on from him and his ghost, to seek out a new future after the love of her life had been killed.
Now, as she cried and soaked my shirt with her tears, I held her tighter, feeling the warmth of our shared grief fill a hole deep inside me. And possibly, she'd felt it too as she finally straightened and sniffed.
She cleared her throat and met my eyes, swiping her face to remove the wet streaks of her tears. "Where the hell were you for so long?"
"I was making sure Grams was somewhere safe," I said gently, not at all hurt by her sharp tone. She was a ball of hurt and fear right now, having taken so long to allow anyone to get close, she was having to face almost losing half of the new family she loved.
"Where is she?" Lily asked, eyes wide and gleaming with tears as she scanned my face. I
squeezed her shoulders gently, hoping she’d be comforted by the touch. "A safehouse. I'm not sure myself where it is exactly." Which was the truth, thank Ailuros. Lily had a way of knowing when I was lying.
But today, she wasn't as keenly observant as usual and she missed the little hitch in my voice--her eyes were tracking the room again, following the little patch of torchlight she shone from corner to corner.
"What happened here?" she whispered, taking in the almost total destruction of the living room.
In the end, the great dresser had survived though its glass doors were shattered and a few of the serving plates and bowls within were now just jagged glass and china fragments.
"A tornado,” I said softly as the memory of that horrific spinning vortex returned to my mind. I swallowed hard before saying, “Courtesy of the fae court. They came for Grams, but she didn't go without a fight."
"Go, Grams. She’s one tough bitch is all I'll say," Lily muttered as she finally looked back at me.
Baz came closer, moving out of the shadows to reveal his worried expression. "You okay?" he asked voice uncertain, tan skin holding a tinge of ash. "You don't look all that good." His eyes reflected the worry in his voice and I let go of Lily and reached out to squeeze his shoulder.
"I don't feel all that good. I should sleep before tomorrow ‘cos we all have a long day ahead of us, but I'm a ball of energy right now. I feel like I want to punch something."
"How about a fae or two?" offered Lily through gritted teeth. She stepped away to go over to a nearby pile of splintered wood and ash.
Reaching for a long, ragged piece of what used to be a photo frame, she poked the sharp end inside the remnants, her expression focused as though she knew what she was looking for.
Then she stilled and reached inside the rubble, her movements filled with gentle care. From where I stood, I couldn’t make out what she held within her palm and had to wait while she got up and walked over to Baz and me. Her face was blank though her eyes were filling with tears as she opened her fist to reveal two sets of tiny silver feet.
And the miniature foot-castings were my undoing.
Tears slid from my eyes as I swirled around and rushed to the mantlepiece, head burning with panic and fear, frantically tossing aside debris as I searched. I didn’t care when broken pieces of wood stabbed my skin or when shards of glass cut me open and drew blood.
At last, my bloody and bruised fingers hit cool metal, and I drew my first breath, feeling the panic slowly subside. I withdrew the cast of Greer's tiny baby feet. I could barely see it through the sheen of tears that blurred my vision, but I was so grateful they were still intact. So grateful they had survived the tornado’s, and the fae king’s, destructive forces.
I got to my feet and hurried back to Lily, who was craning her neck to peer into my hand even before I reached her. When I unfurled my fingers, she began to cry again, blonde head bent as she sniffed and sobbed softly, trying to regain control.
Greer's death still haunted Lily--she still held herself somewhat entangled with the responsibility of my sister’s death.
No amount of talking had managed to convince Lily otherwise, and I'd given up trying. Instead, I kept hoping that someday she'd come to terms with it and move beyond her guilt.
Today wasn't the day.
Lily let out a hiccuping sob, and Baz reached out to hold her around the shoulders. They made a sad pair, both wearing sneakers and sweats, probably having come back late from the workshop to get caught up in witnessing the horror and being forced to watch from afar.
Lily didn't shrug Baz off and instead smiled up at him through her tears. I'd wondered once or twice if the two were romantically involved, but I’d never really gotten that vibe.
And from what I'd heard and seen at the group sessions, it appeared Baz and Steph, Mel's geeky assistant, were the real romantic item.
I was curious to see how that romance would develop; relationships between vamp-demons and vanilla humans weren't all that common. Being a little supernatural would have helped Steph navigate her relationship with Baz better, but she had no powers, either magical or natural, which meant we needed to watch out for her all the more.
And of course, Baz himself was still transitioning to his final physiological state after having been turned by a vicious vamp-demon. Our vampling was still being guided and trained by Asher, Logan's contact at the FBI who also happened to be a full-blooded vampire.
How the FBI ended up with a vampire on their payroll was a question I really wished someone would answer, but I'd gotten zero success when I'd pursued that line of questioning with anyone, even Logan remained tight-lipped whenever I brought Asher up.
Now, I focused on Baz and his question from long moments ago since his eyes were still hard and focused. And expectant. "I'm managing, I guess,” I said softly, giving him a shrug of one shoulder. I flicked a hand at the room. “This is a lot to absorb. But it isn’t even half of what’s on our plates. Basically, Grams is in danger, and she's now safely out of harm's way. And we have other things to focus on. But when the Mithras mission is over, I really need to deal with Grams' problem."
"Well, you're not dealing with anything without me.,” Lily cut in. “And I'm telling you right now. If you do anything without giving me the chance to help, I will kill you.
18
Lily, Baz and I walked over to the mansion in relative silence. The sun was dropping slowly over the horizon, bathing the silent town in a reddish-gold glow. The serenity of the evening was almost an insult to the terror our family had endured only hours ago and I was almost angered that the appeared so calm in the wake of our catastrophe.
Then, I checked my thoughts, reminding myself that I was thinking out of frustration and anger and was looking for someone to blame. Looking for someone to redirect my emotions at. The people of our little colony didn't deserve my anger.
Which I discovered not much later.
The Graciana Mansion sat on the top of the hill, overlooking the colony like a dark sentinel, its granite walls standing the test of time, having been one of the first structures build when the colonists had first broken ground here a couple hundred years ago.
The skinwalker people from the indigenous tribes had by then already begun to intermarry with the fresh new blood of shifters and were only too happy to help the colony build itself up from the ground.
And the Graciana Mansion had borne witness to it all, now also providing refuge to our family.
We walked through the trees and onto a wide lawn which had seen many a village gathering, from fêtes to Thanksgiving and Christmas, the people of Tukats gathered here to celebrate life and endurance.
Today the green lawns were overgrown and we smooshed the long blades flat, tracking footprints all through the centre and up to the gravel drive leading to the front staircase. The building had an abandoned air to it, giving off an almost unwelcoming vibe. A spell, of course, created to ward off those who were not welcome on our land.
We were never an inhospitable people, but we did prefer our privacy, especially since, through the streets of our colony, one would regularly find adults and children shifting from human to panther form, and back, without a care in the world.
Having strangers walking through the town and seeing such unusual supernatural activity would only create unwanted curiosity or even incite a lynch-mob, as we knew from historical experience.
The door opened just as we reached the top of the stairs and Mom peered out at us, pulling a large shawl around her shoulders. "Kai? You weren't answering our messages." Her tone was accusing and admonishing, and I blinked.
"Oh, shit. It must have died somewhere along the way. I swear I haven’t even given it a thought in the last few hours." My guilt was clear in my face and Mom relented, waving us inside and closing the door.
"The place is a little cold what with being empty these past months. Your father’s made a fire down in the back parlor and we're hanging out in there for now." She pointed
down the hall at a spot of golden light shining out of an open door all the way at near the back of the house. The dark unlit passage looked like a huge black mouth waiting to swallow us all whole.
I shivered then rolled my shoulders. Lily and Baz were already walking down the hall and I began to follow when Mom called out to me. "Kai, honey? Stay and help me make some hot chocolate."
I didn't protest, sensing she wanted a private chat, which was likely for the best since I had to give her the Ni’amh news.
I trailed after her to the enormous kitchen with its black slate floors, an ancient stove and an oven large enough to cook a few grown men in one go, all lining the back wall.
I followed Mom to the large wooden table in the middle of the room and hovered as she took mugs and chocolate and milk out of the cupboards and the fridge. The kettle was already steaming, moments away from whistling out its state of readiness and I let out a sigh.
Suddenly, I was exhausted again, and I sank onto the nearest seat, my head propped in the palm of my hand as I watched Mom prepare the drinks. I must have nodded off because I'd blinked, then heard the tap of a mug on the table as Mom placed my chocolate in front of me.
I widened my eyes and straightened, looking up to meet Mom's curious gaze. "So? Is she safe?"
I nodded. "She's safe, Cassie has her stashed and I've spoken with her. She's fine but she isn't happy."
Mom's brow scrunched up. "Why? She's safe away from the fae king, right?"
"Yes, she is. But she said there's more going on here than that." I lowered my voice. "I think I need to tell you this with Dad and Iain as well."
Mom smiled. "Iain's here. He's in the parlor with Darcy. He got back an hour or so ago. Both he and Dad went off to inspect the house and make sure there were guards watching the place. They wanted to secure the rest of the rooms but decided the guards were enough."
