“Because it was safer for him not to remember. It was by mutual agreement that we decided I wouldn’t claim them. They each had goals they wished to attain, and I didn’t like what the bond did to me. It took me from a strong and independent woman into this subservient little mouse—I couldn’t abide that.
“I’d been raised in this house by a mother who’d been beaten by her partner. I’d seen what a man could do to a woman, even one as powerful as she’d been. She could have knocked him down with her magic, showed him true pain, but she never did. He was human, yet regardless of her abilities, you’d never have known she was the more powerful of the two.
“I couldn’t stand the notion that they might make me like that, so I took my daughter and fled to the U.S. Linford knew, of course. We were always the closest—”
“How is that possible?” Matthew rasped. “We’re all bound to Riel. Linford’s troupe was all bound to you. How isn’t that equal?”
She tapped her fingers along the terracotta rim of the mug she’d reached for. “As with any relationship, you get back what you put in.
“Your father, Seph, knew he had to marry up. Or, if not up, then into a line that was just as powerful as his own. He needed the magic. His father had wasted a lot of the familial treasure, and Landgow was barely standing under its own weight. He knew he could never get too close to me, even as the bond worked its wiles on us, he remained apart, as aloof as he could.”
I couldn’t imagine being able to do that. To stand apart from this bond, to turn my back on it. I had definitely been raised differently, thanks to who and what I was, but I had a feeling Seph and Matthew, who’d been raised under the same kind of familial pressure as Noa vil der Luir, didn’t understand it either.
“Linford had no familial pressures. His parents had died partway through his life and he was the head of his line. As an orphan, he wasn’t trusted, so he was able to do things most couldn’t. He has an estate of his own, but it was smaller than Landgow, and easier to maintain. Plus, he had fewer people to attend to. I’m aware of how large Landgow is, even if I was never invited to visit.” Her lips twitched at that, but there was a tension about her eyes that told me she wasn’t happy about never having been invited there.
“Linford and I tried to stay apart for our daughter’s and her family’s sake, but it was difficult. The pull never died. It hasn’t with any of my Virgo, even the ones who perished long ago.”
“My father said he felt the connection break years ago. He said he knew you died.”
“Linford is to blame for that.” She rubbed her temple. “What he can do with the mind is rather concerning. If I didn’t trust him implicitly, I’d be quite scared of his talents.”
If she was scared, then holy Sol, what should we be?
Uneasily, as I shot her a wary look, I asked, “He messed with Noa vil der Luir’s mind?” Noa had once been a powerful Assemblyman—was still powerful, even if he was semi-retired. This knowledge alone would be enough to have Linford detained on trial for treason.
“Yes. Of course. We had to. He had to know I was dead. It cemented things.”
“What like?” Seph demanded, his voice hoarse.
“Noa insisted on maintaining a bank account for my use. When I was dead, he closed it. A small thing, perhaps, but it mattered in certain circles who were monitoring such activity.”
“The AFata?”
“Yes.” She blew out a breath. “They are my one regret in life. Of all the many things I’ve done wrong over the years, they were definitely one of the worst.”
“Why did you join them?”
“Because the Fae were taking America’s side. They were quite content for the States to overrun Cuba, and the AFata was as against that as Che Guevara and Castro. I was never a communist, but a patriot? Sí. I wasn’t about to let America overrun my country, so I joined the fight and aligned myself with someone I would have ordinarily left well alone.
“As a result, I’ve spent half my life in hiding, and I’ve ruined my daughter’s and granddaughter’s lives.” The lines around her mouth tightened as she shook her head. “But, there’s no use in self-pity, and no use in regrets or recriminations. At the time, I did what I had to do, and I’d do it again, therefore, I can’t castigate myself over and over, even knowing what happened.”
Matthew’s brow puckered as he questioned, “When Linford and his troupe touched the meteorite in Tunguska, why were they there?”
Her lips curved. “You’re really asking why there was a battalion of Fae in Honolulu, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” he admitted. “On our way to Riel, we came across a troupe of six. That’s unheard of in the States. But it makes sense now that I know there was a battalion stationed there. Even if a battalion being in a zone that isn’t exactly engaged by war makes no sense to me.”
She nodded. “Honolulu definitely isn’t a warzone, but there are other reasons for the Fae to station a battalion of warriors there.”
“Like what?” I demanded. Warriors weren’t just fighters, they could be peacemakers too, but I got the feeling she wasn’t talking about that. Just call me smart.
“Like a vision,” she murmured, before taking a sip of coffee—unsweetened. Like mud. Ugh. “Before the Ch’ing-yang meteorite, there was a powerful witch. She predicted many things—the meteor itself as well as what it would bring. In her time, she detailed over ten more impact events that would happen between 1490 and 2490, and which would bring great change and power to our people.”
My mouth tightened. “Let me guess. The one in Honolulu was one of those?”
“Yes.” She blew out a breath. “Riel was supposed to be nearby… she wasn’t supposed to stop it. I don’t know why she’d have even imagined she could!”
“She could and did,” Matthew replied coolly. “She saved thousands of lives.”
“Tens of thousands without a doubt, maybe even hundreds of thousands,” Gabriella admitted. “But that is neither here nor there.”
Sol, talk about ice cold.
“It matters to the people who are alive now because of her,” Seph ground out.
“Don’t be sentimental,” she snapped. “People die, it’s what they do. In the interim, we have to deal with a fallout I wasn’t prepared for.
“I don’t even know if Riel will survive what happened tonight. She was fated to be strong, but not that strong.”
“You took the weight of the meteor,” Matthew drawled but the tension bracketing his mouth said it all—none of us could deal with losing Riel. We wouldn’t let her leave us. “Why shouldn’t she have been able to?”
“There’s a huge difference between taking a weight and catching something like that. The momentum alone must have nearly snapped her magic in two, and let me tell you, that’s damn painful.” She rubbed her cheek, her eyes clouded as she thought about the agony our mate must have been in. “Regardless, she did what she did, and now we can only wait to see if she survives the changes the meteor brings.”
My heart went thunk in my chest, and I stared at Matt and Seph, unable to believe Gabriella’s words.
“How can we be okay, but she isn’t? We were in the net,” Seph rasped.
“I don’t doubt your magical talents will have been altered somehow, but yours will manifest gradually. Linford said his talents have grown stronger with time, but at first, they were definitely slow to stir.”
I had to wonder if that was something to celebrate or fear, and my hand tightened around the handle of the earthenware mug as I contemplated our situation. Slowly, I stated, “Gabriella, we began the Claiming rite before the meteor struck.”
Our woman’s grandmother sighed. “Ah.” And before our eyes, her shoulders slumped. She raised her hands to cover her face as a happy laugh escaped her.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Matthew demanded, his tone as desperate as I’d ever heard him. He wasn’t alone. Desperate wasn’t even the word. The beast inside me, the one Riel had stirred to life, was raging
inside me. Chomping at the bit for more information.
“It means you probably saved her life tonight. Without even knowing it.”
My heart was in my throat now. “How?”
“The Claiming rite is an exchange of energy. By triggering the Rut, you made her more Fae than she’s ever been before.”
“We used blood to reinforce her magic,” Seph recalled.
“Making her impromptu net more Fae as well,” Gabriella murmured, her tone thoughtful as she processed what we were saying. “The Fae are stronger than witches. Your natures are hardier. Witches are more human, you are not. If she survives the night, then she should live.” Her voice was choked, even if her eyes were dull and free from emotion. “If she does, we’ll deal with what the magic brings.”
Three
Seph
There were moments in a person’s life when they felt fear. Fear was natural. It was even healthy. It kept us alive, kept us cautious, stopped us from being reckless with ourselves and those around us. But it seemed Riel wasn’t one of those people who feared to tread toward the unknown, and for it, she was…
What?
We didn’t know.
It wasn’t like she was metamorphosizing into something else, but in the day since she’d harnessed the meteor, her wings had turned black as night, her hair had shifted to a white blond as pure as Sol’s light, and her nails? The tips that had once been a natural white were now etched with some kind of metallic sheen that certainly hadn’t been there before. When I touched them, it was like they were forged in metal, but not gold, because I knew that was the softest of metals.
Worse than that, she still hadn’t awoken.
Whatever the radiation was doing to her, it was taking it out on her, and considering we’d been there to help, the changes in us were disappointing. As far as we were aware, we’d gained no gifts or talents. At least, not yet.
It wasn’t that I was jealous, but I was concerned. Had we taken none of the radiation? Was she spared nothing?
As I lay on my side in the bed I was sharing with her, I watched her sleep. Her wings were retracted for the moment, but they had a habit of popping out of nowhere—last night, Daniel had fallen off the bed because of her wings, a thought that still made my lips twitch. He’d been fast asleep one second, and the next, he’d been flat on his ass beside the bed.
She barely moved aside from the shit she pulled with her wings. Her body was limp and lax against the sheets as she processed whatever was happening with her. Whatever being the operative word.
We had no idea what she was enduring.
Had no idea if she’d even survive it.
A thought that had me gritting my teeth because even if she wasn’t afraid of much, I was terrified of that fate. Gabriella had said that if she survived the night, she should be okay, but we were a few nights down the line, and she kept on living but never waking…
How was it that we’d instigated the Rut, had started the path of the Claiming, and somehow, days later, we still weren’t hers?
Knowing we’d saved her by beginning the Claiming was the only thing that was right in our lives at the moment, but until she awoke, that provided little to no comfort.
A frown puckered her brow, and I watched the minute movements, finding relief in them even if she did weird stuff in her sleep. I wasn’t talking about sleepwalking or hogging all the covers, but the shit she pulled with her wings and the things she whispered in a voice that was so quiet it was almost soundless. We’d all been watching out for them, trying to find hope she was still with us.
When a glow permeated the bed a few moments later, I didn’t move off the mattress, just carried on studying her. It was still pink, but brighter than before, and small speckles of dust marred what had once been a pure cerise. The dust wasn’t white or even silver, it reminded me of the platinum ring my mother wore—the vil der Luir emerald. A white silver that glinted in the candlelight illuminating the bedroom, giving a soft glow to what was, essentially, a sickroom.
I reached over and stroked my hand down Riel’s arm, massaging here and there before bridging our fingers together. When the heat from her fingers transmitted itself to me, I winced at first, then was surprised when my body just absorbed it. The glow from her fingers grew hotter, flaring wider, the silvery-white sparkles becoming brighter too, and through it all, I just held her hand, watching as the magic covered us, spreading over our bodies like a gauzy blanket.
When the door opened and Matt peeked his head through the gap, I saw him rear back at the sight.
“A good sign?” I asked softly.
“Let’s hope so.”
Matthew came into the room and perched at the edge of the bed. He was nowhere near her, nowhere even close, and yet, like the magic knew, it began to ooze toward him, not stopping until he was also covered in its embrace. And yeah, I chose that word for a reason. It was an embrace, not an assault.
As it enfolded us in its warmth, he shot me a look.
“New development?”
“Would appear so,” I muttered dryly, squeezing her fingers so I could silently tell her that all was and would be well.
Matt toed out of his boots and climbed onto the mattress beside her. “Daniel’s talking to Linford.”
“About blood magic?”
“What else?” Matt snorted. “I think he’s disappointed the blood magic alone isn’t enough to open portals.”
I snickered at that, then closed my eyes as the glow began to pulsate. It reminded me of those lava lamps humans liked. Gently moving, pulsing to a beat of its own, and strangely soporific if you were cocooned within it.
Pressing my lips to her shoulder, I murmured, “Hope she wakes up in the morning.”
“Me too,” Matt replied heavily, and I realized he was feeling as sleepy as I was.
The next thing I knew, it was morning, and when I opened my eyes, Riel wasn’t separating Matt and me. Whipping around, I saw that she was sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bed. Her eyes were on us, but they weren’t chocolate like before. They were the same color of the silvery-white flecks in her magic.
“You’re awake,” I rasped, as relief flooded me at the sight of her sitting up and aware.
“I am,” she said with a soft smile.
“You should have woken us up. We’ve been scared, Riel,” I chided, then felt guilty because Sol, it wasn’t like she’d tried to be malicious.
“I wanted to watch you sleep,” she admitted. “I like it.”
“That meteor turn you into a creep?” Matt asked around a yawn, as his eyes opened and he peered at her.
“Maybe,” she replied, a soft laugh escaping her. “But I don’t think so. It was just… you were restful.”
“You’ve been asleep for two days straight, Riel. Restful is the last thing you need.”
“I feel like I haven’t slept at all,” she countered, reaching up to rub her eyes. “Did I dream it? The meteor, my grandmother? It feels crazy enough to have been a nightmare.”
I shook my head and dragged myself up the bed so I could lean against the headrest. I wanted to go to her, but there was a reason she was holding herself aloof. She’d moved out of our arms and far from our touch. Though giving her space was the last thing I wanted to do, I’d do it if it made her feel better.
Rubbing my bottom lip, I pondered what to say, but Matt beat me to it. “No. It was all real. We stopped the meteor and your grandmother helped us bring it to Earth.”
Her jaw tensed. “I feared as much. That’s why I feel different, isn’t it? I remember Linford telling me about the other meteorite. The one that brought stronger magics, Virgo, and human born Fae.” She blew out a breath. “We absorbed the power, didn’t we?”
“For someone who’s only been awake for a short while, you’re remarkably well informed,” I muttered with a snort, a little peeved—and not understanding why—at how calm she was.
The last two days had been hell, and she was sitting there like she was waiting
on a hair appointment.
“The last thing I am, Seph, is well-informed,” she disagreed, then raised her hand, and within seconds, the glow formed. It manifested into a small vortex in her palm, a silvery-white flecked one. She cocked a brow at me, and within seconds, there was a flower on her palm.
“Couldn’t do that before I assume?” Matt remarked, tongue-in-cheek.
Her lips curved, twisted. “No. I couldn’t. The glow in itself was new. The flecks? Newer. And the flower?” She scowled at the small bud. “Do you know how hard it is to make something living?”
I frowned. “Is it?”
She gulped. “Yeah. It takes a very strong witch, and until recently, that wasn’t me.”
“You had to be strong to manifest,” Matthew countered.
“Sure, but I was useless. I told you, I did everything ass backward.” She bit her lip as the vortex stirred once more, and on her palm, two daisies made an appearance. Shyly, she reached out and pressed one to my lap and tossed the other onto Matt’s.
I reached for mine, and the second I touched it, the delicate white petals began to change. Before our eyes, the small, silky fronds turned hard, and the silvery-white flecks from her magic began to overtake the daisy. Within moments, the little flower had become immortalized in, what I assumed, was platinum.
“Take it you didn’t plan for that to happen?” Matt queried, his voice dipping as he stared at the daisy in his lap.
“No,” I breathed, raising the once delicate flower that had weighed nothing and now had substantial mass.
“Sol,” he muttered.
The door opened, breaking into our tableau, and as we spun around to stare at the entryway, I saw Daniel take in the scene before hauling ass and rushing over to Riel. He did what I’d wanted to, but hadn’t been able to with her… I guess I felt like she’d been standoffish, the distance between us intentional, even if it was unwanted on my part. Daniel, either not caring or not recognizing her frame of mind, dragged her off the bed and whirled her in a tight circle as he hugged her firmly.
The Ascended: The Eight Wings Collection Page 42
