There always was. Prepositions… the nuance maker in the English language.
With my thumb, I rubbed the deep crevice that was a smile line at the side of her mouth. The glow appeared, and I began to trace the other wrinkles that had etched their path onto my abuela’s face.
“What are you doing?”
“Breathing life into you,” I told her simply.
When she tensed, I half-expected her to grab a hold of my wrist and stop me, but she didn’t.
“What will that do?” she inquired instead, and her words were shaky, filled with awe.
“You’ll find out in the morning.”
Her eyes were narrowed as she grabbed my chin and forced me to look at her. “You act as though you know, but if you do, why not tell me?”
“I’m acting on instinct,” I answered her honestly, staring at her face and needing those wrinkles and lines to be gone. “An instinct that’s telling me to do this.”
She frowned at me, but settled down and didn’t disturb me while I worked.
I knew if Daniel was here, and if he held her, he’d illuminate every single ounce of life within her body, just as he’d done for the daisy. Matthew would make not only the wrinkles disappear, but her entire form, and Seph? Sol, he might just turn her into a statue forever.
The meteor had changed us in ways that none of us could anticipate, and this? Gaia help us, it was only just the beginning.
Still, I shoved that aside as I worked, needing to see my abuela without the lines of age marring her features.
“You’re in danger, mija,” my grandmother whispered. “If you can bring life and death with the casting of a spell… there is no telling who will want you in their army.”
Her warning should have filled me with trepidation, but it didn’t. If she’d tried to frighten me, she failed, because my lips curved.
“They can try,” I murmured.
But they wouldn’t succeed.
Four
Matthew
As I stared at Riel, who was looking out onto the field, I listened in on the conversation between her other Virgo.
“She’s acting weird.”
“She’s always been weird,” Seph countered, opposing Daniel’s statement.
“He’s not wrong, Dan,” I added. “More interested in her cellphone than learning how to fight, you know that as well as we do.”
“Until we started teaching her what she needed to be taught,” he argued. “It’s like she’s ancient or something now. The way she’s talking?”
I knew what he meant. “It’s like she knows the answer to a question before it’s even spoken,” I mumbled, watching as she pressed her hand to a tobacco plant that was five feet tall. The thick leaves made the rows between other plants tight, but as she traced her hand around one leaf, it began to glow. Just as it had when Daniel touched the daisy she’d made for him.
We’d swiftly learned that she, too, could do what we did.
If I could make something invisible, that was a power she shared. And the way Seph had turned that daisy into metal? I knew she could do it also, even if she hadn’t displayed that particular talent yet.
There was an otherworldliness to her that made the beast inside me that was forged from the Virgo bond stir to life with anger. It made her out of reach in a way I couldn’t abide. I was waiting for the Rut, waiting for it desperately, because I had a feeling that was the only thing that would bring her back to us.
I didn’t know how or why I had that belief, but it was there at the forefront of my mind, and I willed for the Rut to commence. For her to be reminded of what she was—not a witch born Fae, not the savior of thousands, or the creature who had absorbed powers that were meant for many—ours.
Our woman.
Our witch.
Our mate.
A hand slapped my shoulder. “She’ll be ours soon, brother.”
My throat felt tight. “Can you read minds now too, Dan?”
“No. But that would be damn useful. Maybe that’s a talent that will develop.”
He sounded so cheerful I could have throttled him. “Why aren’t you scared?”
“For two reasons. One, she’s here with us. As long as we’re with her, then I’m okay. Two, she’s Riel. Whatever else she is, she’s that first. The Rut will start and she’ll be grounded. I know it.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. I just do. I feel it in my blood.”
I knew what he meant, because I did too—could feel something simmering inside me, waiting on the Rut to flourish—but that didn’t stop the uncertainty from flooding me simply because she was behaving so fucking oddly right now.
Rubbing my hand across my chin, I murmured, “We need to figure out a way to control our powers before we can help her with hers.” When I looked down at his hand on mine, I could see that my arteries were alight. Only the arteries. The veins weren’t. I guessed that made sense, considering arteries carried oxygenated blood while veins were stripped of life-giving oxygen.
“Maybe we should speak with Linford. He’s been controlling his for a lifetime,” Seph pointed out warily.
“We need to watch her.”
I shook my head at Daniel’s statement. “She’s the safest she’ll ever be, Dan. She might not be a warrior, but she has magic on her side now, doesn’t she?” Magic and a whole host of shit none of us understood.
Sol, even her grandparents were eying her oddly, and the stuff they’d done in their lifetime would probably fit into several tomes.
He grimaced. “True.”
“The AFata are here on this island,” Seph cautioned.
“They’re everywhere. She’s safe,” I repeated, knowing instinctively that it was true.
Seph conceded that with a dip of his chin.
“I think we need answers first and foremost. What use are we if you turn everything into metal, I make shit I touch disappear, and you make everything glow?”
Dan snorted. “You’re just jealous because I can make a light show.”
My lips twitched. “Yeah. Jealous. That’s exactly what I am.”
He shoved my shoulder, and I took the hit with a grin, even as I cast a glance at my woman.
She was staring out toward a barn that was thatched and managed to look like something the pilgrims on the Mayflower would have built. Gabriella had told us earlier that was where they cured the leaves.
The fields were manned by a team of female farmers she’d handpicked. We’d seen a few of them tending to the plants early this morning, before they’d headed off and gone about their other business.
When harvest came, they’d have to pick the crop, cure it, and then create the tobacco and the cigars the island was famous for.
I’d half expected my grandmother-in-law to be running this place with magic, so to learn she used humans came as a surprise. Magic was a pest repellent alone, while the women did all the other work.
My stance had been myopic, perhaps, but I didn’t pretend to know or understand everything.
In the Fae world, we’d have used magic to run this place. My father had several farms that nourished the household, which ran on tithed power. No Fae would deign to farm. It was beneath us. The lowest caste was administrative for a reason—our people were born to be managers and higher, not worker bees.
The elitist thought had me wincing, but I left it behind along with my mate as we traipsed through the small house to find Riel’s grandfather.
He and Gabriella had been discussing something in a language none of us spoke for hours, ever since Riel had conversed with her grandmother after awakening from her long sleep.
I wasn’t sure what we were waiting for. Wasn’t sure why we were staying here for the moment, but considering I didn’t have a clue what the Sol was going on, I figured I wasn’t in a position to question why.
If I knew one thing, it was that sometimes Elders knew best.
The cottage was small, five rooms at best, and we found Linford brooding in
a small salon which could, I reckoned, be considered a formal sitting room for Sunday best.
His wings fluttered as he stared out the window, and I saw that he was brooding over Riel.
“What do you want?” he groused without turning to look at us.
“Help.”
“With what?” he quizzed, finally twisting around to stare at us.
“Powers we’ve picked up since the meteor.”
He huffed. “Those are the least of our worries.”
“Seph can turn things into metal. The last thing we want is for him to turn one of us—”
“How did you do it?”
Seph shrugged. “The second I touched it, it just began transforming.”
“Do it now.” He pointed to a wooden coffee table that sat between two high-backed chairs forged from a dark wood that was carved to appear like it was a rope, and was held together with tattered rattan, which looked the epitome of uncomfortable. “Make that metal.”
Seph frowned but headed over to the table. He hesitated as his fingers hovered above the surface before he sucked in a breath and made the link.
Nothing happened.
Linford grunted. “Thought as much. Magic calls to magic, son. The daisy was forged from magic, therefore, you could manipulate it.”
“So the magic didn’t create life?”
He looked unsure, and that didn’t exactly put me at ease. “No, of course not.” Why did I think that was bluster? “Anyway, the daisy was inanimate. Living but not alive—was there a root system to this flower? From what Gabriella said, no, there wasn’t.”
Because he had a point there, I let that topic drop. “That’s great for inanimate objects, but what about people?” I grilled, thinking about my own talent.
“You can make things invisible, correct?” When I nodded, he motioned at the table. “Touch it.”
I didn’t hesitate as I headed over to the table. When I touched it, it quivered for a second before disappearing from sight.
“Touch Seph’s arm,” Linford instructed next.
Nothing happened.
“Dan made my arm glow earlier when he grabbed my shoulder,” I reasoned.
“There must be a disconnect and a connect,” Linford mused, and I gathered that we’d gained his attention because we were interesting.
Linford was old enough to be perennially bored. I knew my grandfather, Ril, was like that. It took a lot to entertain him, and usually, as a result, he was always grouchy—same as Linford. They’d probably make great friends if they ever met, I thought with an eye roll.
His wings retracted as he leaned back against the wall. “We could fashion something to cover your fingertips, not sure fabric gloves would be enough, but either way, they could impede you in a battle, so that wouldn’t be useful.” He rubbed his chin. “Do you make your troupe brothers turn to metal, Seph?”
Reaching out, Seph touched me, and when my arm began to turn a funny color and it began to ache, I pulled back, figuring we had our answer.
“Interesting,” he murmured softly, and I could see he truly was intrigued. His eyes were alight, sparkling in a way I figured was unusual for him.
“Always happy when you’re tinkering,” Gabriella commented from the doorway, her voice amused.
When I turned to look at her, I gaped and quickly peered out of the window.
“Holy Sol!” Seph rasped in unison with Daniel. They did as I had—stared out the window to make sure Riel was still standing out there and hadn’t walked into the salon to mess with our heads. Sure, her coloring was different now—like day in contrast to night—but we were still getting around that ourselves. To see the walking reincarnation of the woman we loved?
Weird as fuck.
Gabriella reached up and rubbed her cheek. “Takes some getting used to, I can assure you,” she murmured, a wry smile curving her lips. “A gift from my granddaughter.”
Dan grunted. “That’s it. This is too fucking weird. What the Sol is going on with her? What is she? The sorcerer’s stone?”
At his raised voice, Gabriella cocked a brow. “There’s no need for hysteria.”
“Trust me, I’m not hysterical,” Daniel ground out. “I’m just confused as all Sol and I want answers. She’s made you younger, Gabriella. Younger. She’s reversed your aging. She can create things and kill things, turn stuff into metal, make it disappear—”
“A wave of new powers that should have bled into the population, but instead have been forged inside her,” she ended for him. “There’s no point in fretting over what is. We must handle it and help her come to terms with her new gifts before they come for her.”
“The AFata?”
“If only.” She shook her head. “The Assembly. They haven’t come yet because this place isn’t on any map. This finca and the land we’re on is outside of Vinales. It technically doesn’t exist. It’s a part of another plot. But they’ll figure it out. They always do. There’s a reason I joined the AFata. The Assembly has far too much power and seeks more.
“You think that battalion was there to help in the aftermath of the meteorite’s impact?” she scoffed. “They wanted to touch it, retrieve it, and study it so their soldiers could gain the powers themselves.”
Linford cleared his throat. “She is correct. As was the way with the Tunguska impact, we were there to await the fall, and upon its occurrence, we retrieved it. The strongest touched it…”
“It still bled out into the population?” I queried, trying to imagine how they’d contain the blast.
“Of course. In that area, more villagers have the Sight than anywhere else on the globe. They’re well known for it, but are left alone only because they’re off the beaten path.”
I rubbed my chin. “Where is the meteor now?”
Gabriella shrugged. “Only my granddaughter knows the answer to that. She cloaked it. It could still be in the yard back in Honolulu or she might have sent it elsewhere.”
“If we have that, maybe they’ll be happy to just take it—”
“No. The power is drained.” Gabriella shook her head. “I touched it, helped carry it to the ground. I have gained no new talents. They would have manifested by now.”
I swallowed. “Sweet Sol, she took it all?”
“No. You did. Plural.” Linford sighed. “The Assembly will want the four of you. You’re a weapon they can’t afford to let fall into another’s hands.”
“We’re not a weapon,” Dan snarled. “We’re people—”
“You think the Assembly cares about that?” Gabriella snapped, her hands tightening on the thick cushions padding the backrests of the uncomfortable sofa she was standing behind.
“They have to,” Dan whispered. “Or…” His brow puckered. “What will become of us?”
Linford’s jaw clenched. “That’s something we’re trying to figure out.”
“And we’re failing,” Gabriella added.
I cut her a look. “You tried to stop Riel from having to run all her life—”
Her eyes grew dark with emotions. “It looks like I failed, doesn’t it?”
❖
Riel
I could feel their panic, and I could even empathize.
I was an unknown. An entity that couldn’t be explained or understood. Not yet, at any rate. And even though I knew I should feel panic too, I didn’t.
Before the battalion had come for us, in those moments when I wavered in and out of consciousness, I’d felt the Earth’s pulse beneath my feet, and I felt it now.
It was there, comforting me, vibrating through me as I overlooked land I’d never thought to see, but was a part of my heritage nonetheless. There was the faint tang of ripe earth, heavily manured, with a tinge of greenness that could only be found around growing crops.
My ancestors had worked this land for centuries. We’d farmed tobacco, had helped in the creation of a product that was famous the world over. Was it odd to feel pride in the production of a cancer stick? Or was it odder not to se
nse the resilience of the women in my family who had borne me?
Through each female, they’d carried the line of magic that ended with me until I, too, could continue the family name. If I could do that. If I was given the gift of life from Gaia, and I wasn’t talking about the magic I could stir in the palm of my hand either.
I pressed a hand to my belly where life wasn’t growing and wondered if that was a part of my future. I’d never put motherhood and myself in the same equation, had never felt a need to. I was free with my body because it was mine to be free with. I’d found pleasure with men and women in the past, had reveled in the liberty I had to self-explore in an age where that was encouraged before twenty-somethings settled down. Wasn’t it ironic, then, that I was choosing to settle down with three men?
Three Fae males who wouldn’t know a single thing about self-exploration if it bit them in the ass.
Or licked them on the ass…
Lips curving at the thought, I inhaled deeply and closed my eyes. I could hear insects chirping, and overhead, there was a threat of rain. I felt it throbbing in the clouds above, and there was a density in the air around me that confirmed my suspicions. Whatever the meteor had done to me, it hadn’t turned me into the Weather Channel, but I could just feel the change in the atmosphere. Feel it and absorb it and read what that might mean for the near future.
Behind me, in the small house that had been inhabited for centuries by my family, another branch of my line—both past and future—mingled together.
Four Fae and one witch. A witch I’d believed was dead, a Fae I hadn’t known was tied to me until this week, and three who I’d pretty much disliked since the start of the term—who didn’t dislike kiss-asses?
And yet, here I was, standing out here, waiting for Gaia to come to me. She had to. I needed the Rut. It was there, throbbing inside me just as the Earth was beating to its own pulse beneath my feet, but it wasn’t breaking free.
Something blocked it.
Something only Gaia, or Sol, could liberate.
An urge hit me and my wings popped free. As they cloaked me for a second, the dense blackness of the feathers caught my attention and made me jump. I wasn’t used to them being so dark, nor was I used to my chocolatey black hair being blonde, or my coffee-colored eyes being a silvery blue. I was like another person, but I didn’t have it in me to hate the new me.
The Ascended: The Eight Wings Collection Page 44
