Storm and Fury

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  “There’s very little Nicolai doesn’t share with me,” he replied, tilting his head. “So, it’s true?”

  I gave a little shake of my head as I said what Matthew had said to me. “I’m not the only person out there who can see ghosts and spirits, Zayne. A lot of people can. It’s not a big deal.”

  He chuckled softly as he let his hands hang between his knees. “Only you would think that’s not a big deal. It is. I don’t know anyone else who can do that.”

  “Maybe you do and they just haven’t told you.”

  “Doubtful,” he murmured. “You’ve always been able to see them?”

  “Yeah,” I admitted, and it was odd but nice to be talking to Zayne about what I could see. “Always.”

  “What’s it like?” he asked, curiosity threading his voice.

  I lifted my brows. “It’s hard to explain. I mean, ghosts and spirits are different. Did you know that?”

  He shook his head.

  “Yeah, ghosts haven’t moved on. They either don’t know they’re dead or refuse to accept it. They’re usually in their death states, so sometimes they can be kind of gross. Spirits have passed on, gone wherever they’re supposed to go, but are back either to check on loved ones or deliver a message.”

  “And that’s what you do? Give people messages?”

  “When I see spirits, yes, but I haven’t see one in ages,” I admitted, fiddling with my blanket. “When I see ghosts, I...I help them move into the light. So they can find peace.”

  “That’s sounds difficult, but also...amazing,” he said, and when I lifted my gaze, I found that he was staring at me intently. “Some people would probably choose to ignore them or be afraid.”

  “I couldn’t do that. They need help, and if you saw them, especially the ghosts...they’re so confused. They shouldn’t be left like that,” I told him, falling quiet as I dragged my teeth over my lower lip. “There are other things, though, that I won’t interact with.”

  “Wraiths?”

  Surprise shot me through me. “How did you know?”

  “Unfortunately, I have experience with them.”

  Wraiths were humans who’d had their souls stripped from them before they died. They couldn’t pass on, either to Heaven or Hell. They were stuck, and the longer they were stuck, the farther from human they became. “There are also...shadow people,” I said, curling my fingers around the edge of the blanket. “Have you heard of them?”

  “Lower level demons,” he said, and I nodded. “They’re not ghosts or spirits.”

  “I know, but they’re often mistaken for them. I’ve only seen one once. It was superfreaky.” I paused. “How do you have experience with the wraiths?”

  Zayne sighed heavily and stared down at his hands. “In all the snooping you do, you didn’t hear about this?”

  “I don’t snoop,” I muttered. “That much.”

  His lashes lifted and a ghost of smile touched his lips. “It’s a long story.”

  “We have time.”

  “It’s late and you should be resting.”

  “I am resting.” I gestured at myself with a flick of the wrists. “I’m in bed.” When he said nothing, my eyes narrowed. “Or is it a story you don’t think I should hear because I’m not a Warden? Because you don’t know me?”

  Zayne was stubbornly quiet.

  Irritation pulsed. “You ask me a ton of questions and yet refuse to answer ninety percent of mine. That’s not cool.”

  He dragged his bottom lip through his teeth. “We had a Lilin in DC.”

  If I had been sitting up, I would’ve toppled over. “You’re for real?”

  He nodded. “There was a demon who wanted to free Lilith,” he explained, and I immediately thought of the half demon his clan had raised. Lilith’s daughter, supposedly.

  “Convinced himself he was in love with her and tried to carry out this ritual to free her. His name was Paimon.”

  Now my eyes felt like they were going to pop out of my head. Paimon was an ancient Upper Level demon, like one of the biblically old demons. A King of Hell, he ruled over hundreds of demons. “Paimon was topside?”

  “We actually get a few of the big players in DC. With all the politicians to corrupt, they’re sort of lured there,” he said. “Anyway, we thought we’d stopped him in time, but little did we know, the ritual had been completed.” His jaw hardened as a beat of silence passed. “A Lilin was created, and it unfortunately got ahold of a few humans. Some, it stripped the souls immediately. Others, it toyed with, taking a little here and a little there, which left us with wraiths to deal with.”

  Processing this, I wanted to ask if that was what had happened to his soul, or if it really did have something to do with Lilith’s daughter, but I didn’t even know if it was true. And while I was impulsive and often spoke before thinking, I wasn’t so much of a jerk that I’d flat out ask someone if they’d lost a part of their soul.

  So I asked instead, “How did you deal with the Lilin?”

  “It wasn’t easy. Took a lot to take it down. A lot of sacrifice,” he said. “The Lilin had created an army of wraiths, and it somehow got them inside these old statues of gargoyles and they came to life. It was... It was crazy. One of them got ahold of my father. That’s how he died, fighting the Lilin. I was there, but I couldn’t get to him.”

  “It’s not your fault,” I said.

  “How do you know that?” That gaze met mine.

  “Because I’m sure you did everything you could,” I said, and even though I hardly knew him, everything in me believed what I said. “I’m sorry, Zayne. I know that what you...you experienced wasn’t easy.”

  Jaw working, he nodded. “He died fighting, but he also died to protect someone he cared very much for. Knowing that does... It does make it easier to process. To deal.”

  “I’m sure it does,” I said, wishing I had something better to say, something more powerful.

  “You know, you’re the first person outside of those who were there that I’ve talked to about my father,” Zayne said, shocking me yet again. A winsome smile appeared as he shook his head. “Surprises me.”

  “Why? I’m easy to talk to.”

  He smirked. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.” I let a grin sneak through. “It’s another one of my attributes.”

  “I’ll have to remember that,” he said, and I knew it didn’t matter, because he’d be leaving. “You told me something, when we were at the training center. You said your mother was killed by a Warden.”

  Oh God, I really shouldn’t have said that. “She was.”

  “And now, you’ve been attacked by a Warden. Are those two things related?”

  I wanted to smack myself, but my head had already been through enough so I resisted. “I don’t know.”

  Zayne stared at his hands again. “Can I ask you something, and you answer me honestly?”

  “Yeah?” I hoped it was a question I could answer honestly, but I was betting it wasn’t.

  Thick lashes lifted. “Are you safe here?”

  I opened my mouth, but closed it, because I had no idea how to answer that and for some reason I...I didn’t want to lie to him.

  And that was dumb, because I’d been lying to him in many ways since I’d first spoken to him.

  A muscle feathered along his jaw. “If you’re not safe here, we can take you with us when we leave. Help you in any way you need.”

  Shock rendered me silent as a swelling motion rose in my chest like a balloon about to float to the ceiling. “That...that is sweet of you to offer.”

  “I’m not being sweet,” he replied, his gaze holding mine. “I’m serious. If you’re not safe here, we can take you someplace where you will be.”

  Looking away, I focused on my bedspread, finding it hard to not be completely honest with him while meet
ing his gaze. “I’m all right here, but thank you.”

  He fell silent for so long that I had to look at him again. He was watching me. “Okay.”

  “Okay,” I repeated.

  He gripped the arms of the chair and rose with the kind of inherent grace all Wardens possessed. “I should go now.”

  I didn’t say anything, because I wanted him to stay.

  As if he could somehow read my mind, Zayne stopped, and I don’t even know why, but my breath caught, and I was waiting again.

  “What were you doing outside tonight?” I blurted out.

  Zayne’s brows snapped together. “You know, it was the strangest damn thing. I’d been feeling keyed up all evening. Restless, even though I was with Dez and Nicolai, and this...this is going to sound bizarre, but I just had this sudden...urge to get some fresh air.” He coughed out a laugh. “Good timing, huh?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Perfect timing.”

  12

  “I have a job for you,” I said to Peanut.

  Seconds after Zayne left, the ghost had drifted through the bedroom wall. Of course he didn’t knock, but I was too tired to have that conversation with him.

  “I’m down for whatever. You know why? ‘Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.’”

  I blinked slowly. “What?”

  Peanut’s transparent expression fell. “Ferris? Ferris Bueller?”

  “Yeah. Okay. Anyway, can you pay attention to Matthew and Thierry? See if you can hear anything they’re talking about?”

  “Like what?”

  Good question, because I wasn’t exactly sure, either. “Like, if they are talking about our guests or...or about what happened to me. I don’t know. Just anything weird.”

  Peanut nodded. “I can do that. I can do that all night long. Actually, I can do that right now. They were just downstairs whispering between themselves and the other guy. Nicolai.”

  “Okay. Yes. Now would be a good time to spy for me.”

  “Awesome!” He gave two thumbs-up and then simply evaporated.

  My head fell back on the pillow. I didn’t think I’d be able to fall asleep, but it was like whatever burst of energy I’d experienced when Zayne had entered the room had left with him.

  Which was notably odd.

  I ended up passing out pretty quickly.

  I’d slept for what felt like an eternity, waking up a little after ten in the morning. The first thing I wanted to do was find Misha, but I took a shower first, towel dried my hair and combed out all the knots. My arm was a little sore, but the redness had already started to go down. Like Wardens, I healed pretty quickly. By tomorrow the stitches would probably dissolve, and by the weekend the scars would be a faint pink.

  After pulling on a pair of dark denim jeans and a T-shirt, I toed on a pair of flip-flops and left to find Misha. I didn’t have to look far. He answered when I knocked on his door.

  “Hey,” I said, entering and then closing the door behind me.

  His room was dimly lit, curtains drawn and only a small lamp on by the bed. He was sitting at his desk, closing his laptop. “Hey.” He didn’t turn to face me.

  I stopped just inside of his room, suddenly...feeling weirded out. I glanced around. His bed was so neatly made that I knew he hadn’t slept in it, because it was always a mess. I waited for him to turn around, and when he didn’t, trepidation formed in the pit of my stomach. I opened my mouth, closed it and then tried again. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah,” came the gruff, short reply.

  I clasped my hands together. “Then why are you sitting with your back to me?”

  Misha finally turned the chair around. He didn’t say anything, and it was too dimly lit for me to make out his expression.

  My stomach dropped. “Are you... Are you mad at me?”

  “Why would I be mad at you, Trin?”

  I wasn’t sure. “Because of last night? I told you I was staying in—”

  “I’m not mad at you.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. I wish you would’ve stayed in like you said, or texted me that you wanted to come out, but you didn’t do this to yourself.”

  Feeling a little relieved, I inched closer. “Then why...” I trailed off, unsure of how to ask what I wanted to know.

  “Why what?”

  I drew in a deep breath. I never held back with Misha before. “Why didn’t you come see me last night?”

  “I wanted to, but after getting my ass chewed out by Thierry, I didn’t think I’d be good company.”

  I guessed that made sense, but still. “I’m sorry you got in trouble. I told Thierry it wasn’t your fault.”

  “I know, but Thierry was still right. I should’ve stayed in,” he said, letting his head fall back. “And don’t argue with me about it. You’re not going to change the way I feel.”

  “Misha—”

  “Look, my job is to make sure you’re safe. I failed last night.”

  I crossed my arms as I bit down on my lip to keep my mouth shut, but I couldn’t hold it in. “You know, I didn’t need you last night.”

  Misha’s head straightened.

  “I took care of myself. I saved myself.”

  “You used your grace, Trin. That’s how you took care of yourself.”

  Irritation pricked at my skin. “I know I shouldn’t have used it, but I did, and it was fine. And if I’d used it last time—”

  “You still wouldn’t have saved your mom, Trin.” His voice was quiet. “Even if you used your grace, it wouldn’t have changed anything. Don’t put that on yourself.”

  I pressed my lips together. The guilt surrounding my mother’s death was...beyond complicated, but Misha was wrong. Her death was my fault for multiple reasons.

  He leaned forward in the chair. “So, you’re saying you don’t need me anymore?”

  “That’s not what I’m saying and you know it.” I walked to his bed and plopped down on the edge. “We’re a team, but there’s no reason for you sit in your room pouting because someone else tried to hurt me.”

  Misha stiffened.

  “And there was also no reason for Thierry to chew your ass out, either. Instead of him yelling at you and you pouting, we should be figuring out who tried to kill me last night.”

  Looking away, he dragged a hand over his head, and a long moment passed. “You’re right.”

  “Damn straight I am.”

  He snorted. “It’s just...” He leaned back in the chair. “It doesn’t matter. How are you feeling?”

  “Fine.” I pulled up the sleeve of my shirt, knowing he’d be able to see it. “See? Not a big deal.”

  He rubbed his fingers over his forehead. “That’s going to scar.”

  Letting go of my sleeve, I lifted the other shoulder.

  “It was Clay,” he said.

  My breath caught. “For real?”

  “I talked to Thierry this morning. Everyone is accounted for except him,” he said. “And Thierry doesn’t think he left the community.”

  I didn’t know what to say. “How can they be sure he didn’t leave? He could’ve just flown right over the walls.”

  “Yeah, he could’ve, but we have cameras. The footage has been looked at and, so far, they haven’t seen anyone jump ship.”

  Unsettled, I stared down at my hands. “You think... You think he came after me because he got into trouble with Thierry?”

  “Yes.”

  I gave a little shake of my head. “What an idiot.”

  “No truer words have been spoken,” Misha said.

  My stomach twisted. It wasn’t guilt. I had defended myself. If I hadn’t fought back and killed Clay, I could’ve died, and that meant Misha would have, too. But I felt strange.

  I
t wasn’t the first time I’d killed.

  And it probably wouldn’t be the last.

  I lifted my head. “I honestly didn’t think it was him. I mean, it made sense, but... How long has Clay been here? Since he was a kid, right?”

  Misha frowned. “Right.”

  “So, he would’ve known Ryker.”

  “Yeah, of course, but that doesn’t mean he shared Ryker’s...beliefs.”

  I wasn’t sure. Misha was right. It made sense. Clay was pissed, and he’d said things to me that could be taken as a threat, but something about it didn’t seem right.

  “You know, I’ve been thinking.” Misha tipped his head back. “I didn’t feel anything last night. Nothing when you were hurt, and I think I should have.”

  Unsure what to say, I lifted my hands and then dropped them. “The bond doesn’t work that way.”

  “The bond is designed to alert me to when you’re in danger,” he said, looking at me. “You were in danger, and I felt nothing.”

  * * *

  I was supposed to be resting, but that wasn’t what I was doing. I wasn’t even in the house, and if Misha or anyone else discovered that I wasn’t in my bed, there’d be Hell to pay.

  But I was on a mission—a mission to locate and retrieve Peanut.

  Call it a seventh sense, but I just knew that pervy little ghost was hiding out in Zayne’s room.

  I hadn’t seen him since he’d left the night before to spy on Matthew and Thierry, and I was guessing he hadn’t heard anything of note to report.

  And yeah, maybe I wanted to talk to Zayne, tell him thank you for getting me to Thierry so quickly last night and for checking on me. I didn’t think I’d thanked him.

  And maybe I didn’t want to be alone with my conversation with Misha playing over and over in my head. Between learning that it had been Clay trying to kill me and that Misha hadn’t felt anything signaling that I was in danger through the bond, I needed a distraction.

  Wearing my favorite pair of oversize dark sunglasses that still didn’t block out enough of the sun’s bright rays for me, I made my way to the Great Hall and slipped in through the side entrance. Climbing the back stairs, I wondered how I was going to figure out which room Zayne was staying in. I hadn’t thought that far ahead and knocking on every door wasn’t the brightest plan.