She doesn’t know I heard him? She thinks I am deaf to Gideon’s words?
“Did you black out when your daemon took over your body?”
My mother’s lips press in a hard line. “Yes. Every time.”
Either she is lying, or it is different for me and Gideon. This is the first time he’s taken the driver’s seat completely since … since I was a child. The power in the tattoo must be fading, but I’m not entirely sure that shutting him out has been the right thing, that ignoring him is right. He is my daemon. He was born with me.
My mother is a cambion, the offspring of a succubus and human union, and me? I’m the offspring of a cambion and a nephilim who has the ability to read people’s thoughts and get into their minds. The combination has created a monster, two monsters if what Gideon says is true.
“You’ll be okay?” my mother says. “Everything will be okay. We’ll get the tattoo re-inked, and we’ll figure out a game plan for Echo. We always do.”
And then she holds me, just as she did all those years ago when Gideon had first spoken. I feel Gideon stir, almost as if he is reveling in the embrace.
Voices drift out of the Protectorate kitchen. It’s a large, homey room, and unlike the rest of the building, you can tell that extra thought and effort was put into this space. It’s the largest of the units, painted and modeled to look like the real thing from the world before. The gray walls are painted magnolia, and there are drapes on the window that overlooks the square. The kitchen is almost always occupied with Protectorate, councilmen and women or guardians. It’s the hub of the council buildings. My mother insisted on a fully functioning oven for Orin, one of my fathers, who loves to bake. There’s always a jar of cookies or shortbread in the cupboard above the sink. This place is the closest thing to the home I remember from topside, from before the world went to shit. We’d sat around the table, the whole family—Mother, Bane, Orin, Drayton, and my biological father, Ryker. My sister and I stuffing our faces with scones, and Bane flipping pancakes in his favorite flowered apron, because God forbid he got his clothes dirty.
But that world is gone. My sister is gone. Drayton’s death broke Mina, and once the Hive was set up, she left to mourn her father topside. She comes back, now and then, but never stays long. Her world is out there, and flirting with danger makes her feel alive.
Deacon looks up from his mug as I enter. He’s leaning against the counter, his stance relaxed and casual. His outer appearance is crisp in his Protectorate gear. Demeanor composed and regal, the opposite of my shaken, confused internal state.
His brows flick up in question. “Done with Echo so soon?”
Micha, the other occupant of the room, turns to face me, his crimson cheeks bulging with food, and raises a hand in greeting. My eyes go to the huge round tin on the table.
“Wait … Did you bring cake?” Cookies and shortbread are one thing, but Micha’s lemon cake has a special place in my heart and a permanent reservation in my stomach.
Micha nods and swallows. It’s the only thing he can bake, but he does it exceptionally well. Even Orin can’t replicate it.
I prise open the tin and grab a slice. “When did you get back?”
“A half hour ago,” Micha said. “Don’t worry, I left April behind this time. She won’t be propositioning you any time soon.” He winces. “I didn’t realize she was hoping to rekindle things between you two. I swear, I wouldn’t have let Bastian fly her over otherwise.”
Micha’s inability to shift into a dragon, and his inability to carry a load while flying, are sore points with him. He can’t breathe fire or shift into a more human form like his Shedim father, Azren, can, but he has one skill that makes him invaluable as an emissary. He can cloak his body to become invisible to the naked eye, and when he does take to the air, fuck can he move fast.
“Would you have been able to stop Bastian from bringing her?” Deacon asks.
Micha sighed. “Probably not. She has the triplets wrapped round her little finger. I’m sorry, though.”
“It’s fine. We talked it through.”
“Is it?” Deacon asks, his gaze raking over me in a scrutinizing manner that sets my teeth on edge. “Are you all right?”
He is no longer talking about April. He is asking about Gideon. Micha knowing is one thing, we practically grew up together, but Deacon … Damn, I hate that he knows. Hate his cool, calm composure and his ability to control his hunger. Hate that he knows what lies inside me. We’ve grown close over the decades, and we work well together, and up until now he hasn’t brought up Gideon, but right now he’s staring intensely at me as if he can see into my soul.
Ha, that’s my forte.
“Is Echo all right?” he asks.
What? Is he implying that I may have— What the fuck am I even thinking? He’s right. I could have … I almost did …
Deacon pushes off the counter. “Emory?”
Micha is looking from me to Deacon now, putting two and two together, and then his expression clears.
“Fuck, Emory, what did you do?”
Gideon stirs, prodded by my disquiet. “Nothing. I stopped him, okay. I didn’t let him do anything.”
But there is hesitancy and doubt in my tone, and guilt stabs at my chest because I left her. I left her lying on the floor with no explanation.
Micha shakes his head slowly. “I love you, mate, you know that. You’re the brother I would have chosen if I’d had a choice, but if you’re losing a grip on Gideon, then you need to steer clear of Echo.”
“She’s doing this, isn’t she?” Deacon says softly. “She’s stirred you. Triggered him.”
I slip into the nearest chair. “She used to calm me.”
“But then she fell in the chasm …” Deacon says.
“And something changed. The tests don’t show it, but …”
“She’s different now,” Deacon adds.
Micha is looking from Deacon to me again, and then he throws up his hands. “I’m going to find Echo and see if she’s okay. You guys carry on finishing each other’s sentences.” He shakes his head and grabs the cake tin as he walks off. “If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times, when it comes to you guys, that shit is not cute, it’s just creepy.”
“I’ll take over the training fully,” Deacon says.
I nod. It’s safer that way. It’s better to steer clear. My gaze falls on my inked arm, sleeve still rolled up. Better to get the tattoo re-inked, better to put Gideon completely under.
He stirs in the deep recesses of my mind, but he is dozing and doesn’t hear me. He is a monster. He’s untamed and unpredictable, and the reason why I can’t have the woman I want.
So, why then do I feel like I’m betraying him?
Chapter 3
The guardian quarters were to the east of the council building, a single-story block of units bolted together around a central living space filled with low tables and sofas. There were bookcases lined with books against the walls and a games table in the corner with several packs of cards and some battered board games from the time before. The sound of chatter drifted out to greet me as I got closer, and then I was in the main lounge, where the space was filling with bodies as the guardians poured out of their rooms dressed in regular civilian clothes.
Some of them had lived there full time for the past ten years, while others had split time between these quarters and their homes in Chamber H, and right now it was easy to tell which was which by the size of the bags they were carrying.
They stopped talking as I stepped into the room and turned to face me as one. These were faces I recognized—friends of my father, people I’d grown up seeing around—and there was concern etched on all of them.
“Echo, sweetheart.“ One of the female guardians, Dia, came over and enveloped me in a hug. She’d been my teacher before she’d won the Run. “I’m glad I got to see you before I left.”
“You’re going?” Stupid question, because, heck, they had their luggage packed a
nd all, but. “Now?”
There were several nods and several worried faces. My heart sank. Of course, they’d be leaving. They’d done their bit. Their ten years were up, and as much as they wanted to, they wouldn’t be able to conduct the arcana anymore. Their bodies were changing, becoming inhospitable to the power. The magic phase where we adopted the qualities of our Arcana ancestors, although beginning for me, was ending for them. But they’d kept me company for the last two weeks, adopted me into the fold, told me tales of topside, and made this place almost feel like home.
Now they were leaving, and I’d be alone.
Dia hugged me again. “You’re going to be fine,” she said. “Nine months isn’t so long, and then there’ll be new guardians to help you. In the meantime, you just need to do the essential tasks, the minimum that is required of you.”
Yeah, it would help if I knew what that was. “And what is that, exactly?”
They exchanged glances, and then Dia pursed her lips. “Just be strong, and remember, Genesis can’t harm you while you employ your staff.”
“Dia,” one of the oldest males said. “You know that’s not how it’ll go down. She needs to be prepared.”
Dia shot him a stern look. “Excuse us.” She led me out of the main room and into my bedroom. She closed the door and turned back to me. “Echo, this isn’t a one-woman job. There’s a reason there are thirteen of us, and three of us aren’t even here, they’re manning The Deep for the sea dwellers. The council will ask much from you. Do not be afraid to ask for things back. You are the last line of defense between Genesis and the Hive, and you will be given everything you need. Don’t be afraid to demand it.”
“I don’t understand, what could I possibly ask for?”
“Protection. Something more than the staff.” She licked her lips. “There are rumors that the councilwoman has a grimoire which contains powerful symbols that, if etched into the skin, can act as defensive or offensive weapons. The rumors say the ink used must be from an obsidian squid and that the councilwoman has one tiny bottle of this ink. Ask for the ink and the book. Ask for the protection of these symbols. They can be your armor, because, honey, if Genesis has found us again, then that staff … It may not be enough this time.”
My throat was suddenly dry, but I licked my lips and nodded. “Thank you.”
She hugged me again, and I hugged her back. She opened the door and, with a final glance, joined the others as they trooped out of the guardian quarters.
The place was suddenly too large and too empty. I slumped onto the nearest sofa and buried my head in my hands. My eyes pricked with exhaustion from the uncertainty and turmoil. What was going to happen to me? What did they expect from me? I needed Bry and Gem. I needed Finn. I needed my best friend Tris back. They’d kept me locked up in the Protectorate chamber. I hadn’t even been able to speak to Tris’s aunt or give the Gentrys back Alex’s locket.
There were so many things I needed to do before they set me on whatever path they had planned for me.
I hadn’t wanted this, but it was here, and it was mine, and for Tris’s sake, for the sake of everyone that had lost their lives out here, I needed to make this work.
Five-minute shower over, I padded into the lounge in search of a book only to find Micha standing there in all his huge crimson glory. I hadn’t seen him since the Genesis attack, since we’d gotten back to the Hive. He’d just been gone. But he was here, and my eyes were pricking, and shit, it was so good to see him. I was across the room before I could think. He made an oomph sound and then chuckled as he wrapped his arms around me. It felt good, warm and safe in his arms. One of his huge hands cupped the back of my head, and then he rested his chin on my crown.
“Good to see you again too, Patch.”
Shit, I was crying like an idiot. What the fuck was wrong with me? But as the tears fell, the tension and turmoil in my chest melted, and the tightness in my muscles ebbed.
He squeezed me tight. “It’s okay, just let it out.” His voice was a low, deep rumble that vibrated through me soothingly. “It’s been a tough few weeks, huh? Everything up in the air? Everything changing but you’re not sure how exactly?”
I nodded against his chest.
“Well, you’re not alone. I’m here. I’m staying, okay. We’ll do this together.”
I raised my head to look up at him. “What?”
He grinned down at me, flashing his pearly whites, so bright against his crimson skin. “I told the queen, hey, Queenie, I’m taking a leave of absence from being an emissary.”
I arched a brow. “A-huh?”
His ember eyes twinkled. “Fine, so it went more along the lines of um, Mummy, can I take some time off please?”
I bit back a laugh. “Mummy?”
He put on a faux offended expression. “Yeah, what’s wrong with that?”
I pressed my lips together and shook my head. “Nothing.”
He took a deep breath and blew it out. “Look, after what happened out there, it wasn’t hard to convince my mother that I needed to be here. You’re going to need all the help you can get, and if they need me back at the Keep, they can radio the Hive.”
He was really staying. Excitement and relief fluttered in my belly. “Where are you staying?”
He glanced about. “Well it seems I have my pick of rooms here, doesn’t it?”
He was going to do this with me. Stay and help me and just be here. The knowledge was like a lifeline, and everything felt suddenly brighter, as if no matter what happened, we could get through it together. The shadow that had been hanging over me was gone. The grief at Tris’s loss and my longing to see my siblings and Finn was still there, but the doubt and fear of the future were gone.
I could do this. If Micha was with me, then I could do this.
He stepped back and reached down to pick up something off the table. It was a round tin. He prised it open and held it out. “I brought cake.”
I took a slice and bit into it, fresh and lemony and delicious. “Oh, wow.”
“Made it myself.”
He could bake? “You’re a keeper.”
He ducked his head. “Well, if you insist.”
I let out a bark of laughter. “Come on, let’s pick you a room.” I slipped my hand into his and tugged him across the lounge into the room next to mine. “This one.”
It didn’t really matter which room he took; they were all identical—a single bed, a small wardrobe, and a bedside table. There was a large washroom with three toilet cubicles and three shower cubicles.
He shrugged. “This one will do.”
We stood hand in hand in the doorway. “Thank you, Micha.”
He looked down on me with a slight frown. “For what?”
“For coming back.”
“Always.”
Micha laid his cards down showing another winning hand.
I pouted at him. “X-ray vision, right? You’re reading my cards.”
“Tut, tut, someone’s a sore loser.”
He had no idea. “No. I just think you’re cheating.”
He gathered the deck of cards and began to expertly shuffle them. “Nah, you’re just not very good at this game.”
Ooo. I narrowed my eyes at him.
“So … How’s the training?” he asked nonchalantly.
My hand faltered picking up the cards he’d just dealt as Emory’s face came to mind, the press of his body on mine, his gloved hand tangled in my hair. “Okay.”
“Emory was … okay?”
I met Micha’s gaze, probing and knowing. But what did he know?
“Emory was … He wasn’t himself.” I set my cards facedown and focused my attention on him. “Micha, what do you know?”
Micha gathered his hand and tapped the cards on the table. “Emory is a good guy, the best. He would never hurt you, but … Emory has certain issues that are sometimes out of his control.”
“Is this to do with his nephilim powers and the reason he always wears gloves?”<
br />
Micha made a meh face. “Something like that. It’s complicated, and it isn’t something everyone is aware of, and that’s how Emory prefers it. But don’t be offended if he avoids you for a while.”
My stomach felt hollow. “Is this my fault? Did I do something to make things worse for him?”
His eyes widened. “Hell no, Patch. This isn’t about you.”
But there was no mistaking the hint of doubt in his tone. This was about me. I’d somehow upset whatever delicate balance Emory had going. There was nothing I could do about it, though, not until I had more information.
Best to focus on what I could control. “Do you know what’s happening? The other guardians have left, and I still have no idea what role I’m meant to play. The councilwoman was supposed to hold a meeting. I’ve been waiting two weeks, and I haven’t been able to see my brother or sister. I haven’t been able to see Tris’s aunt or tell the Gentrys how brave their son was. I haven’t been able to see … to see.” I ducked my head, suddenly embarrassed because Finn wasn’t mine to covet.
“You have someone?” Micha said softly. “Someone you care about a lot?”
I blew out a breath. “It doesn’t matter. He’s a Lupinata.”
Micha made an “o” with his mouth.
“It’s probably for the best that he hasn’t tried to come see me. Nothing could ever progress with us.” My tone was empty and dead.
He reached out and covered my hand with his. “It doesn’t change the way you feel, though. Feelings don’t always adhere to convention and right and wrong. They seem to have their own set of rules. I’m sorry. I understand wanting something you can’t have.”
My gaze flew up to meet his. “You’ve been in love with someone you can’t have?”
His mouth was a wry line. “No. I had her, but then she left and came back and left again. Eventually, I had no choice but to steel my heart against her, because I knew I would never be enough for her. I would never be enough to make her stay with me, and that kind of love … That isn’t what I want.”
Dead City Page 2
