“Why?” Matt demanded.
I squeezed her shoulder. “How do you know?”
“Because there was more than just one magical trace there. There were several.” She gulped. “Which means more than one person wanted to attack me.” Then, she bit her lip. “Or, I could be wrong and that was just a waste of time.”
I shook my head. “No. I don’t know what you were doing—”
“Me either,” she said huskily.
“What kind of trace, Gabriella?” Seph asked.
“Like… it sounds weird but almost as if they were fingerprints. There are lots of different ones on the bird.”
“How did you sense them?”
“The magic did. I didn’t.”
Seph shot me a look, but his tone was firm as he murmured, “Then I believe you’re right. We have to believe your magic won’t steer you in the wrong direction, however, that leaves the question why? The only people who know you’re here are your family, correct?”
“Yeah. Everyone from work just thinks I quit,” she admitted on a sigh, and on shaky legs, got back to her feet.
I hauled her against me, propping her upright as she got her balance back.
When she looked down at the bird, she murmured, “It was a raven. That’s a portent.”
“A portent of what?” I questioned uneasily.
“They’re messengers, and that he tried to peck out my eyes? Well, I don’t think he had anything good to tell me. Do you?”
Nine
Matthew
With my phone in hand, I dialed my grandfather’s number. He was too old-fashioned for Skype, too difficult to write letters to. Sometimes, I wasn’t even sure if he wanted to stay in touch with me, but because he was the only one in my family I actually liked, I wasn’t about to let our relationship disappear.
Not when only Gaia knew how much time I had left with him.
“Grandfather?”
“Boy.”
I rolled my eyes, but my lips twitched at his insolence. “Warrior, now.”
“You’ll always be ‘boy’ to me.”
I knew there was a compliment buried deep within that statement, or at least, that’s how I decided to take it.
“How’s the final semester turning out?”
His voice was husky with age, but I could hear the excitement burrowed into the undertones. “It’s definitely interesting.”
A hoot escaped him. “I’ll bet. How’s your troupe? Do you gel well?”
“As well as we can,” I appeased.
“Would never have had a female on a troupe in my day,” was my grandfather’s next comment. “Too much distraction. And a human born? The Skills’ test must be getting easier.”
“We’ve already had this conversation. If you want to argue about it, then head to the Assembly. Just because you were born in the Dark Ages doesn’t mean we all were—”
“Like they’d listen to me,” he interrupted with a huff. “Would have done back when I was a few years older than you, mind, but ever since my idiot son—”
Clearing my throat in an attempt to break off that topic of conversation, I asked, “Grandfather?”
“What?” It was more of a bark than a reply.
“Have you heard of the Virgo?”
There was silence for a second, then a snort. “Of course. Fairy tales.”
I rubbed my bottom lip. “Even so, what do you know of them?”
“Very little. Like I said, they’re all fantasy.”
Well, there was that conversational gambit. I’d been hoping he’d have some information, some piece of knowledge that was tucked into his memory banks that might be useful for us.
“Why do you ask? Know some fool who is one?”
His statement had me growing still. “How can someone be one if they’re only fantasy?”
“Because they’re deluded, of course. Knew a couple of troupes who claimed to find the bond. They were all potty.”
I blinked. “Potty?”
“Daft. Crazy. Mad.”
“Why?”
“The witch turned good, honest, hard-working soldiers into loons.” He grunted.
“In what way?”
Ril huffed. “Does it matter? Like I said, it meant nothing. I bet it was that PTSD. They say that even Fae can get that now, you know. Of course, it didn’t exist in my day—”
Rubbing my temple with my free hand, I mumbled, “What did exist in your day, Grandfather? You just contradicted yourself.”
“Less of your cheek, boy.” But there was a cackle to his words—I was the only one in the family who’d give him shit and he seemed to appreciate it.
Sol, maybe he was the loon.
“You like my cheek and you know it. How’s Nanse?” I asked, mentioning one of our neighbors who he had the hots for.
“Playing hard to get.” He sniffed. “She doesn’t realize we’re both too old for those kinds of games.”
I laughed. “We’re never too old for those games, Grandfather. In fact, I’ll hazard a guess that’s why you like her so much—because she’s difficult. Just like you.”
As I caught up with him and his exploits, I thought about what he’d had to say. As little as it was, it gave me an insight into something I didn’t understand, and Sol, I hated it when something was beyond my understanding.
If all Virgos turned into loons, in his opinion, maybe the weird urges we were all experiencing were normal?
Like the constant desire to pound into one of my troupe brothers for daring to so much as harm a strand of hair on Gabriella’s head, for example.
“You should ask about your parents even if you don’t really care,” he intoned, breaking into my thoughts.
“Why should I?”
“To be polite.”
“Since when are you and I polite? Especially with each other,” I retorted.
“True, true, boy,” he murmured, sounding pleased with my words. “I’ll tell you even though you didn’t ask.”
“Must you?”
“Of course! He’s got the pox.”
My eyes widened, and suddenly, I understood. A laugh escaped me. “Mother must be thrilled.”
A snicker sounded down the line. “That’s just it—she hasn’t got them.”
I groaned, unsure whether to be disgusted or just plain sad. My parents were like Seph’s—not exactly a love match. I’d once caught my father fucking a member of the household staff when I was twelve, so it came as no surprise that he was a cheater.
Still, to have the pox? It was our only sexually transmitted disease, and naturally, came with great shame.
Like our family wasn’t mired in enough of that!
“As if Mother doesn’t have enough to contend with,” I groused.
My Grandfather hummed. “Yes. I do feel for her this time. Normally, I think she needs to work harder on retrieving that pointed stick she has lodged in her behind, but your father always was a moron.”
“Yeah, I know.” I rubbed my brow as mortification swirled inside me like a hurricane gaining force in my head. “I hate him, Grandfather.”
“I know, boy, I know. Thought you’d appreciate the news. He’s suffering mightily.”
“Well, I don’t—” I winced. “I mean, I’m glad—”
“I understand, boy. It isn’t in your nature to wish anyone ill, but he deserves everything he gets.” Another hum came down the line. “I’ll be kind to your mother.”
I laughed. “Praise be to Sol. Do you want to kill her? You being kind to her is bound to set off a heart attack.”
He grumbled, “Now who’s being mean?”
My smile was wide as I stated, “If I can’t be mean with you, who can I be mean with?”
There was a sniffing sound. “Yes, well, I’d best be off, boy. Things to do, things to do.”
“I’m sure. Speak to you later, Grandfather, and do be kind to Mother. She deserves it.”
“I will.”
I cut the call because he never knew how
to, then I heard a rustle of feathers from the balcony. Twisting around to peer out, I saw Gabriella was seated there, her back to the railings, her face turned to the sun.
“Don’t accuse me of something you already know I am.”
Her first verbal sally had me blinking. “What do I already know you are?”
“Nosy.” She grinned at me, well, grinned at the sun.
How pathetic was it that I was envious of that big ball of energy?
Perhaps Ril was right. I was potty.
Grunting, I asked, “Did you hear anything interesting?”
“Enough.” She tilted her chin down and looked at me, pinning me in place with those gemstone-like orbs of hers. “You love him.”
It was a statement, not a question.
“My grandfather?” I shrugged. “Yes.”
“Even though he called you a loon?”
I winced. “You overheard.”
“My hearing might not be as good as yours, but it’s semi-decent. Especially with the wind to help me.” She raised her hand, swirling it around like she was stirring coffee into a cup of water.
“He doesn’t believe in Virgo.”
“I’m surprised you asked.”
“I’d like to understand—”
“Perfectly natural. Bet you didn’t expect that answer though.”
“No, I didn’t,” I replied drily. “But I can always expect the unexpected with him.”
“He sounds pretty cool. Even if he is a little bloodthirsty. I’d like to meet him.”
The notion sent shards of delight through me. “I think he’d love that. I mean, he wouldn’t show it—”
A laugh escaped her. “No. I’ll bet. But still, I’d like to. I get the feeling—” When she broke off and just stared at me, I wriggled in the chair I was sitting in.
I’d been working at my computer when I’d had an urge to speak with Ril. He usually cleared my mind, helped me focus on something because his was a novel way of thinking—he was, he claimed, too old for the pomp of Fae life so said whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted.
It was very refreshing.
And with that shit with the raven, and trying to learn more about the Virgo and this bewildering bond that united us to this one female? Sol, I’d never needed a mental recharge more in all my life.
“You get the feeling, what?” I queried, curious as to why she’d hesitated, and suddenly it hit me.
It hit me when I’d never gotten it before.
Her lack of filter, her snark… it reminded me of Ril. Reminded me of him, and because I loved his nature, loved how he eschewed tradition, and I saw the same in her, it made me appreciate her all the more.
I wasn’t sure why, but that had a calm settling deep inside me. The bond wasn’t overtaking me to the point of bestiality. There was a logic to my appreciation of her. A logic that soothed me, and made sense to me.
And where there was sense, there was sanity.
“He raised you?” she asked softly.
I nodded. “My parents were around, of course, but he was the only one who cared.”
Her smile was gentle. Tender. “I’m glad you had that.”
“Me too. He stopped me from going nuts too many times to count.”
“And drove you nuts sometimes too, I guess?”
I grinned at her. “Definitely.” I motioned at her with my hand. “Are you okay? Was there a reason you dropped in?” The fact that she’d come via wing and not walked was weird enough to have me getting to my feet.
“I decided to practice flying.” She shrugged. “I didn’t get very far.”
“I don’t know, your quarters are quite a way away.”
That had her laughing. “You’re good for my ego but we both know that even though I’m getting better, I’m still crap.”
I shrugged. “We each have our own strengths,” I told her as I clambered down beside her. “I’m surprised Daniel let you out of his sight,” I admitted, peering over my shoulder to see if I could spot him.
“Oh, I’m sure he’s watching somewhere.”
He had turned into something of a stalker.
“Doesn’t it irritate you?” Since the raven, he’d started doing weird things. The sniffing thing was more of a constant, and in our down time, he’d taken it into his head that he needed to be her bodyguard—like she was in any danger on the campus, I thought with a snort.
Still, I understood the sniffing thing. The urge to scent her now was an impulse I was determined to fight. Especially now I’d gained some ground in the sanity department, after having reasoned out why I liked her prickly self.
“What irritates me is that it doesn’t irritate me,” she confessed. “I’m not used to this, Matthew. Not used to letting guys into my life and being okay with them taking over parts of it.”
“We don’t—”
“No, you don’t, but you are. It’s the bond. I get that. But still… it’s unnerving how easy I find it to roll with the punches, you know?”
I appreciated her candor more than ever at that moment. “Yeah. I know.”
“It’s weird for all of us,” she mused, her face tilting back so the sun could burnish her with its rays, and though she wasn’t wrong, there was also something very, very right about this bond.
Maybe to my grandfather, I could be considered crazy, but all my life, I’d been waiting for the moment when I could come to the Academy, when I could rectify my uncle’s mistakes. Now, here I was, with that in my future, and suddenly, it didn’t matter.
Was it strange to see myself clearer than ever before when I was swamped with a bond that was almost alien to me?
Maybe it was, but if this was a tidal wave, we were all being swept up in it.
There was, I realized as I tipped my head back and joined her in sunning myself, safety in numbers. I had to find comfort in that, comfort in the maelstrom. I wasn’t alone.
And I never would be again.
❖
Seph
The next few days were spent attempting to train Gabriella. If she could use her magic defensively, then we had to hope she could keep herself safe in the trials. If that bird hadn’t come along, she’d been doing okay, and with more training on her side, then she could only improve. Or that was our working theory.
But something had changed.
As it had in Daniel, it had in Matthew and me as well.
The thought of her getting hurt?
It was enough to send me into a tailspin.
Before, I hadn’t really cared. Sure, I hadn’t wanted her to be injured, but I’d have blamed her incompetence and her attitude for it.
Now?
I wanted to slay whoever caused her to spill a drop of blood.
And as they felt the same, that meant Matt, Dan, and myself got into a lot of fights.
A lot of them.
“For Sol’s sake,” Gabriella shrieked. “Stop it!”
As I slammed my fist into the side of Daniel’s head, I felt Matthew grab a firm hold of my hair and pull me back. I grunted at the excruciating yank against the roots, but moved with him, and used his grip against him by tipping my head back and headbutting him from behind.
When I scented blood in the air, the anger inside me calmed. Blood spilled for the blood she’d spilled.
“You guys are driving me crazy!” she ground out, and we pulled apart to stare at her, each of us a panting, sweaty mess. “Why are you fighting all the time? For the love of Gaia, all he did was nick my hand! How can I practice if a blade never comes near me?”
I dropped forward and propped myself up on my knees as I took the chance to get my breath back. With a grunt, Daniel slipped to the ground, resting his arms on his bent knees as he bowed his head, and Matthew leaned back against the wall and rounded his shoulders.
“He shouldn’t have nicked you at all,” Matthew mumbled, his face still tilted toward the ground.
“I’m training with sharp, pointy weapons. There’s bound to be some bloodshed,” sh
e snapped, her eyes flashing with anger.
The sight of it had me growling, and I didn’t stop until she caught my gaze with her own and a shaky breath escaped her. She blinked a few times, licked her lips a couple more, then in a throaty whisper, stated, “I don’t understand why you’re being like this.” Then, sulkily, she mumbled, “And what’s with all the growling? It’s like being surrounded by a bunch of dogs.”
As he reached up to rub his hand over his face, Matt snarled, “It can only be the Virgo claim.”
“B-But I’ve read nothing about the Virgo fighting among each other,” she argued, her hands balling into fists at her side.
“And there’s a record of the interaction of every Virgo and witch mate, is there?” Dan groused, reaching back to grip the back of his neck and rub where I’d had him in a stranglehold—the bastard would probably bruise.
Good.
“No. True,” she conceded, and at his words, some of the fight seemed to disappear from her as she sank to the ground too. Her arms came around her knees and she cupped them to her.
I could sense the lingering traces of her anger, but what disturbed me the most was the whisper of fear and confusion.
She pressed her forehead to her knees and murmured, “This has been getting worse since I studied the raven.”
“The glow. It affects us,” Matthew confirmed, the words thick. “I don’t think there’s a shadow of a doubt about that.”
“I wonder if all witches with Virgo can manifest, and it’s how you claim us,” Daniel mused, rocking back onto his elbows.
He seemed to be the calmest of us all, but I had to believe that was because he’d been dealing with the confusing aftereffects of her power for a few days longer than we had. He was undoubtedly more used to it than we were, so he had some semblance of control. Not that you’d tell in a fight. The bastard was like a rabid beast, and my ribs ached as proof of that.
“Maybe. I don’t know if my abuela could. We didn’t talk about magic with her. She and my mother would argue about what mama was teaching me, so they tended to avoid the subject when I was around.”
“You never saw any sign that she could manifest?”
“No. I’d remember if I had.” She pressed her forehead harder into her knees, hard enough to leave indentations in her skin when she looked up again. The red patches faded over time when she shot me a look and murmured, “She might have, but she might just never have shown it to me. Like I said, magic was a sore subject in our house.”
The Ascended: The Eight Wings Collection Page 16
