by Eden Ashley
She swallowed. Her throat was dry and her heart was nearly pounding out of her chest. But the threat was gone…if there had ever been one. “Warren, you can’t slit his throat in the science lab.”
“Where would you prefer he do it?” Ander asked, clearly misunderstanding.
She tried again. “There will be no throat slitting anywhere.” She met her ex-boyfriend’s eyes pointedly. “Cal won’t hurt us.” Still, Kali had seen how quickly dominance could switch between Cal and Gabriel. “Let’s hear what he has to say.”
War shook his head. “No offense, Kali. But this isn’t your call.”
“You’re right. It’s Rhane’s call. And I’m willing to bet he didn’t give the OK to kill Gabriel if the opportunity presented itself.” Her statement seemed to get all of them to think. War might have even relaxed a little.
“The priority is to remove you from threat of immediate harm.”
“I’m not in danger,” she insisted.
“I’m not convinced,” War replied stubbornly.
She looked helplessly at Cal. Reasoning with War was about as effective as arguing with Rhane. Cal rolled his eyes. “We approached you in a cafeteria full of people. That should be worth some good faith points. And look around. Notice how none of Gabe’s backup followed us in here. I don’t want to hurt you. But silver things are not toys. So, if you don’t put the knife away, he’s going to make you.”
Feeling her anger surge, she focused on her lessons with York and redirected that energy. The power was hers to control and not the other way around. Her veins became hot with the fire held within them. When Kali spoke, her voice was rock steady but held a bit of an edge, a parallel to how she felt on the inside. “Do not threaten them.”
Cal’s eyes sharpened in her direction. “Neat trick.” He licked his lips. “You all should be taking cover behind Kalista.”
War looked away from their captive for the first time since leaving the cafeteria. There was a flicker of surprise at the sight of her, but he quickly smothered the emotion with a blank expression. The knife went away. Even Ander relaxed his grip. Kali couldn’t guess at what her appearance must have been like. But shadowed mirrors in the darkened science lab gave her a good idea. Seeing the scales, black eyes, and greyed flesh, she almost shuddered too.
“Tell us what you want.” The authority in her voice surprised even her. She had no idea where she’d gotten the confidence.
With hands no longer holding him down, Cal straightened his jacket, zipping the collar to cover his neck and the thin, still healing scar. “I came to say, he’s—we’re sorry.”
“Dude,” Rion called from his station near the door. “Your use of pronouns needs serious work. I can’t tell if you’re one person, or two, or if you’re just plain nuts.”
Cal went on as if Rion hadn’t interrupted. “Bentley and the others are newly turned. As they get acquainted with the symbiotic merge and resulting abilities, brash behavior can be expected. Gabriel is injured, so he hasn’t been around to guide them. I don’t know how to.” He turned an accusing glare on the kindred, but the words that followed held no blame. “Gabriel came back when he felt the loss of two men. The fault was on our side. Attacking you was not sanctioned. The errant behavior of the survivors has been addressed. You will not be threatened again.”
It was probably safe to say, no one in the room had been expecting an apology. Rion double-checked the hall before turning around to properly convey his disbelief. “That’s all you wanted to do? Apologize? You could’ve have done that when we first came in here.”
“Yes, but the apology would have sounded much less sincere coming at knife-point, don’t you agree?”
Frowning in answer, Rion resumed guarding the door.
Kali took a deep, calming breath and then another. Soon everything felt human again. Though, she was starting to get a little hungry…and not for cafeteria food. Using her abilities came with more of a price lately. She pressed three fingers to her head. “Callan, please leave. And don’t come near me again.”
With a nod, Cal slowly moved to the exit but stopped at the doors. “Now with that request, I can’t make any promises,” he said. And then he was gone.
But the creepy, bugs-crawling-beneath-her-skin feeling was back.
Chapter 44
Confronting Cal at school had sparked something new in Kali, and she spent the rest of the afternoon trying to understand what it was. York waited at the manor, eager to begin a new lesson. If it were ever possible for a Warekin to retire from being an elite supernatural soldier, teaching would definitely be his second calling. But when Kali arrived, she politely asked to practice solo. York was a bit taken aback but didn’t deny her request.
So now she stood alone in the field behind the manor. Her eyes were closed. Her thoughts streamlined. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.
She searched within herself as if seeking another’s spark. The moment marked Kali’s first time looking at her own energy. And it was beautiful, a monochrome rainbow of grey that flowed in a river of black silk. Tiny spirals and waves flickered in spurts of dotted magic, bringing to mind a picture of lightning bugs, little factories of luminance.
Taking another slow breath, she reached out to touch one of the spirals and watched as it exploded into a ball of light. Tendrils snaked out from all directions, pulsating, electric with energy. Kali opened her eyes.
And the fire was in her hands. A living entity, waiting for her command.
“Styganna,” she whispered.
The flame expanded, doubling in both size and intensity.
Smiling, she pictured the ball as a monster-sized inferno. “Grote lumas.” Combining thought and speech transformed the wish into reality. The sphere lifted from her palm to float above the field. Within seconds, it became a small sun that burned in swirls of grey and white. Kali squealed with excitement. She couldn’t believe she had actually done it.
“Impressive. Now make it go away.”
She jumped at the sound of York’s voice, but the floating sphere remained unaffected. She looked at him and then back at it uncertainly. “Orrece,” she commanded and snapped her fingers. The sphere vanished.
York clapped his hands. “I wondered why you wanted to go off on your own this afternoon.”
“So you followed me?”
He shook his head. “Nah. Matthias told me what you were up to.”
“So someone else followed me.”
York blinked. “Of course. You know what ‘line of sight’ means.” He picked up two fighting sticks from the grass and tossed one to Kali. “Now, let’s see what else you remember.”
“I don’t think I can.”
“Stop thinking. Just feel it.”
Kali looked down at the wooden weapon. She was trembling and didn’t understand why. “This is different. The fire is a part of me. I feel it from within.”
Resting his weapon against the ground, York leaned into it. “Alright. Set the stick on fire and move around. Maybe you’ll start to feel it then.”
She looked at him dubiously. “Light this on fire and dance around. That’s your suggestion.”
“I said move.” York shrugged. “But a little hip action sounds good too.” She was about to dismiss the entire thing until he added, “You did it all the time when you sparred with Rhane.”
It was a nice play. York had to know Kali wanted to be able to train with Rhane more than anything else. “I fought him with flaming sticks?”
“Back then you preferred knives.” He looked off to the side as if remembering. “Really sharp ones…The fire was more to psych him out than anything else. That and your scantily clad writhing body were enough to distract any male with at least one eye and half a brain. Don’t get me wrong. You had skills. But you also didn’t say no to an easy advantage.”
“I’m having a hard time picturing myself going toe to toe against Rhane with the intent of turning him into a salad.”
“Believe it.” York smiled. “And
for you two it was foreplay.”
She took a moment to consider that. “Okay. Let’s say I’m convinced. What now?”
York raised his stick. “Let’s see what you got.”
Kali hesitated. “You said I fought with knives.” She gave the stick back to York. “That means I would be used to a weapon in both hands.”
“Smart girl.” He took the dowel, snapped it in half across his knee. With a pocket knife from his jeans he whittled the splintered edges down to rounded ends. Kali accepted the modified weapons. Her hands recognized the familiarity of them almost instantly. “Good?” York asked.
“It is. Only...”
“What now?”
“This is wood.”
“What an astute observation.”
“How do I keep it from burning to ash?”
“I don’t know. You’re the siren.”
Kali blew out a frustrated breath. “York. I don’t remember this stuff. Help me.”
“Give me a sec.” York bent his head and scratched at his stubble lined jaw. “Okay.” He snapped his fingers. “Tell it not to.”
“And here I am thinking you were about to be serious.”
York looked indignant. “I am serious. It’s how you explained it to me once. Part of your physical make-up gives you an inherent invulnerability to fire. But others have walked through fire unharmed just by holding on to you. I once asked how that was possible. You said that you asked the fire not to harm to them. Personally, I think you can somehow reverse engineer your flames. Instead of using power to burn, they become a shield against the fire not originated by you yourself.”
Her heart sank a little. “That sounds extremely complicated.”
He nodded. “Just go with telling it not to.”
It was worth a shot. Kali rolled her neck and shrugged her shoulders to release tension. She spun the sticks in a circle, paused, and did it again. The motion started out a bit clumsy, but became smoother with each rotation. She took a step forward and back without incident. Then she tried walking a few feet, keeping her gaze trained on the weapons in her hands.
“Flame on.”
Concentration broken, both sticks tumbled from her hands. Kali frowned at York in disbelief. He responded with a snicker. “I couldn’t help it. You looked so focused. Relax. This is already in you.”
“Right,” she agreed with little conviction. The sticks were still on the ground. She studied them for a moment. No thinking. Just feel. It was easy to think. Harder to do. Screw it. Kali reached for the monochrome rainbow, drawing lightly on the energy that flowed there. She pointed at the sticks. “Ont flamen.” They ignited immediately. Okay. Now please don’t burn, she thought desperately. She picked up the sticks. The fire didn’t hurt. The sticks didn’t even feel warm. She imagined what she must have looked like centuries ago as a conditioned fighter, fierce enough to take on the strongest of the Warekin army. It was no small stretch for her imagination. Kali opened her eyes and noticed something amazing. Faint patterns of light were etched in the grass and in the sky. The markings sprawled a path in front of her, literally lighting the way.
She looked at York. His gaze was still trained on her. It didn’t seem as if he could see them. Vision or not, the patterns were meant for Kali. She could feel it.
Clusters of two on the ground and two in the air were repeated again and again. Footsteps? For her to follow? She placed her feet in the light. Her hands followed in the air. She moved on to the next grouping. And then to the next. There. Energy began to flow into her body with each step. With every swipe of the arm, she felt more powerful. Suddenly, she wasn’t just moving. She was the movement. She was the dance. She was the warrior.
The markings of light disappeared from before her, but she kept moving. Hypnotized by her fire. Thrilled by this new feeling surging within her veins.
From somewhere behind, York whispered. “Beautiful.”
Able to pinpoint exactly where he stood, she spun with the sticks raised, striking at two weak points in his defense. York barely got his weapon up to deflect the blows. She danced away before he countered, reappearing behind him to strike again. One hit landed against a kidney. The other slammed into the back of his knee, throwing him off balance. Pure instinct took over and Kali used the opening to aim a punishing blow to the base of York’s neck.
For three seconds, he was down. Then he rallied, regaining his feet in a blur to attack with a flurry of blows. Her body anticipated each move. Muscles activated on their own, reacting to place the sticks exactly where they needed to be in order to deflect the hits. But then the inevitable happened under such a skilled assault. York’s rod landed a punishing blow against Kali’s left shoulder. She cried out. The stick fell as her fingers went numb. She staggered. York circled, waiting.
Gritting her teeth, Kali retrieved the weapon and raised both sticks into a relaxed fighting stance. He attacked. Her injured arm trembled under the weight of blocking his first strike. She ordered more fire to her weapons. “Styganna.” He raised his dowel to strike again. She whispered the second part of the command. “Lumas.” The flames expanded, erupting into a white-hot blaze. Blinded, York flailed. Three well placed blows finished him off. He fell hard, landing on his back, and she stepped away quickly, dropping back into a fighting stance. Right on top of him wasn’t the place to be when he made his next move.
Groaning, York clutched his ribs and rolled slowly to one side. A thin trail of blood trickled from his temple.
“Shit.” Kali dropped the sticks and kneeled next to him. “York?” she called urgently. “Are you OK?” He groaned again. She cradled his face in her hands. His eyes were open but unfocused. “York. York. Please talk to me.”
Instead of answering, he shook his head. She helped as he struggled to sit up. One leg stretched out in front him. The other he drew to his body, propping one arm on the knee. Kali leaned in, taking a closer look at the cut on his head. A pretty decent gash streaked just above his hairline. “Oh geez. I’m sorry.”
York moved his head away from her prying fingers with a wince. “Don’t be.” A second later, he was on his feet and pulling Kali up next to him. “How’s the arm?”
“It hurts,” she admitted.
“Nice moves, kiddo.” Bright red blood smeared his face, but York was smiling easily. With a laugh, he rested his forehead against hers. “Sexy as hell,” he said.
Chapter 45
Two hours later, her shoulder was still throbbing. Kali rubbed it absently as she studied her answer to a review question for the night’s reading assignment, Part 1 of Faulkner’s The Sound and the Fury. She’d barely finished the section. Her mind was muddled with other thoughts, making it even more difficult to follow the narrator’s leapfrogging stream of consciousness. But the answer was essay form. It left some wiggle room for error.
Satisfied with the final product of her efforts, she closed the notebook and exchanged it for her laptop. Bailen lounged beside her and cracked one eye open as she switched positions. Kali patted his head. Wagging his tail once, the canine closed the eye again. She turned back to the laptop. It was time to do the work she loved. Entering data for the reports Wesley had sent over didn’t take long. Soon she was finished emailing the completed reports to the office, and sat wishing there had been more. As she tapped her fingers forlornly against the keypad, a thought occurred to her. Rather, it was a name. Eleazar.
By Shannon’s (and the Reaper who possessed her) admission, Eleazar had played a significant role in arranging for Kali and The Siren’s Heart to be sold to Gabriel. Apparently, murder, blackmail, and extortion weren’t beneath this guy. He sounded like a man willing to do anything to get what he wanted. But what did Eleazar want? What was his role in all of this? Builders wanted to either save the world or destroy it, depending on which side was in question. Gabriel wanted revenge. Mack wanted to save his family. Shannon wanted to be cured. But Eleazar was a mystery.
Power, money, or women motivated most men’s actions. If Kali
was a betting girl, she would have put her money on Eleazar’s money. He must have, in some way, stood to benefit financially from the whole scheme.
Kali wished there was a full name to go on. Googling “Eleazar” turned up hits mostly for some dude from the Bible. Not helpful. There was also a computer science professor who specialized in research on human genetics. That sounded promising. Unfortunately, the picture that went along with the profile wasn’t. Eleazar Wretchen didn’t look like a mastermind of supernatural events. Nor did he look like a man who would murder the elderly. But appearances weren’t everything.
As she started to bookmark the page for later research, Kali remembered Shannon had referred to Eleazar as mister. Eleazar had to be a last name. People hadn’t inserted mister before first names since the nineteenth century American south.
A soft voice broke into her thoughts. “Kalista.” She looked up. Orrin watched her from the doorway, all six feet and four inches of flannel and bootcut jeans. “I knocked. But you did not hear me.”
“Sorry. I was finishing up some work for the office.” She closed the laptop and welcomed him in.
He remained at the door. “Rhane called. He will be home shortly for dinner.”
Right on cue, her stomach growled. “Any idea what we’re eating? I’m starving.”
A smile chipped at Orrin’s serious features. “You worked up quite an appetite during sparring practice today.”
She winced, thinking of York’s head and feeling her own shoulder. “It was a good practice.” It was obvious that Orrin wasn’t going to come to her, so she got up and went to him. Bailen followed.
“He still feels it.” His fingers were a whisper on her injured shoulder. “Let Rhane look at you. He can help.”
“Uh…okay.”
Orrin offered his arm. “May I escort you downstairs?”
She grinned. This gracious and stoic kin couldn’t have been more different from his twin brother. They were night and day. “Absolutely.”
