Warrior's Prophecy

by Allie Burton

  He gripped her hands tighter. Did she think she wasn’t strong enough? Her powers would continue to grow. “Ash said it probably doesn’t matter what happens to the trumpet. The powers are part of you.”

  “Will I have healing powers like you?” Her hope twisted around his gut.

  He wanted her to want powers, except the specificity of her question had him doubting her motives. Had trusting her been a mistake? Although, how could wanting to heal be a bad thing. “Why do you want healing powers?”

  She squeezed his hands so tight her nails dug into his skin. “I need to tell you something, and it’s important—”

  “Math!” Antony skidded to a halt in the music room with an anxious expression.

  “What’s wrong?” Math got to his feet still holding Piper’s hands, unwilling to let go. He wanted the lady-killer Warrior to know she was taken.

  “The Uset package has arrived in the country.” Antony’s serious tone communicated more than his words. His obvious concern emphasized the urgency, until he sneered at Piper. In this time period, he didn’t believe in relationships. He flirted and dated—a completely foreign concept to Math. “It’s being delivered, and I need your help tracking the contents.”

  Piper’s hands stiffened. “Through my uncle’s pawn shop?”

  “No.” Antony’s short answer barely acknowledged her question. Which was funny because he could be a charmer when he wanted.

  “Can it wait?” Math pointed his head at her. He wanted to finish their discussion. “Plus, Falcon and I need to take care of the trumpets.”

  “Both trumpets are in our possession. Safe.” Antony’s expression darkened, conveying more than his words. The Uset package was dangerous. Dangerous especially if the item fell into the wrong hands. “We need to act now. The person delivering the package has been killed.”

  Not the news Math wanted Piper to hear before she committed to working with the Warriors.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Piper

  “These should fit.” Aria shoved pink pajamas patterned with musical notes at me. She seemed preppy and prissy and probably didn’t want me staying in her bedroom. The exact opposite of me.

  I wouldn’t be staying long. Ash, Antony, and Aria didn’t like me. And Math had rushed off to find this Uset package. He didn’t bother explaining to me why that had taken precedence over the trumpets, but it helped my situation. The Trumpet of Peace wouldn’t be destroyed yet.

  Washing up and changing in the bathroom, I thought about people’s motivations. Math wanted me to stay at the professor’s house for my own safety. Aaron wanted me to stay here too—until I found the trumpet. My motivations were mixed. I wanted to stay to be with Math even though I hadn’t seen him since he ran out with Antony earlier today.

  And I needed to find the trumpet. More now than ever. Desperation stretched my muscles and nerves so thin I thought they’d snap. The clock was ticking and with Math absent I couldn’t ask him to help. I needed to find the trumpet and get back to Mom, yet once I found the trumpet, I’d have to leave Math. Forever. Because he’d hate me when I stole the instrument.

  Maybe I had snapped.

  Jiggling my leg, I took only one step into Aria’s bedroom. “Thanks for the cute…pajamas. I’m sorry to be a hassle.”

  “No worries.” She folded down her comforter in a precise right angle.

  “I really need to talk to Math. Do you know when he’ll be back? Would your grandfather know?” I couldn’t tell Aria or any of the other Warriors about my Mom and my dilemma. If I did, they’d probably lock me up and keep me away from the trumpet. I had to play the friend card.

  “Math and Antony are on a mission. Who knows when they’ll come back.”

  My heart clutched. “What if something happens to him? Doesn’t anyone keep track of the Warriors’ whereabouts?”

  I was surprised Aaron hadn’t put GPS tracking in the car he’d given me to drive. I knew because I’d have sensed the mechanical manipulation.

  “I understand your concern.” With a dreamy expression, Aria plopped on her bed. “Falcon and I hate to be separated, but Grandfather is old-fashioned.”

  “You and Falcon are together?” I’d wondered by the way they’d looked at each other.

  “For eternity.” She sounded dreamy, too. As if Falcon was her forever guy.

  Something Aaron had told me tickled my brain. “When you say eternity, what do you mean?”

  She pursed her lips and leaned toward me sharing a secret. “Falcon and I, and Olivia and Xander, and all the Warriors are immortal.”

  The tickling thrust and punched. Aaron had said the Warriors came from stone and were immortal, meaning will live forever. Math was immortal. He’d live forever. While I might not make it past tomorrow. I knew this and yet hearing it confirmed shocked me. If I had mystical powers, one of them wasn’t immortality. Even if I wanted to be with Math, I could never be with him for his forever.

  How had Aria become immortal? What was her story? She appeared so normal.

  “What’s going on between you and Math?” Her gaze held a glimmer. She wanted the latest scoop.

  Except I didn’t know the scoop. I’d been about to confess everything to Math—my original intentions, my upbringing, Aaron’s demand to steal the trumpet, my mom—when we’d been interrupted by rude Antony. Frustration pulled my thin nerves tauter. Math had sent a text asking me to spend the night at the house and he’d talk to me soon. His Warrior duties had taken precedence over me.

  Would that always be the case?

  It was too late for us. Pi Day was tomorrow. Too late for me to confide and to count on him to help Mom. Too late to do anything except grab the trumpet and get it back to Aaron. As always, I had to take care of things myself.

  The ticking in my head sounded louder, quicker.

  Confusion took the ticking off-timing, vibrating unevenly. About Math. About us. About my own motivation. Uncomfortable, I wasn’t used to sharing my thoughts and feelings, especially to a stranger. “I don’t really know.”

  “He watches you in a certain way.” Aria giggled and flopped back onto the mattress. Her short blonde hair splayed behind her.

  “What way?” This must be how girlfriends talked to each other. Gossiping and laughing and discussing their love lives. A warm glow encompassed me. Nothing as strong as what I felt around Math, but it was nice, and I enjoyed the feeling. I wished I would’ve grown up with friends. Normal friends.

  I cut off that way of thinking. Cut off the glow. No use wishing for something that wasn’t going to happen.

  “You know.” She sat up and batted her eyes in an exaggerated fashion. “The look of love.”

  Love? She thought Math loved me? The last word squeaked in my mind. Squeaked in excitement. Squeaked like a normal teen girl.

  Except I wasn’t normal. And neither was Math. My strong feelings for him didn’t matter in the long run. I was attracted to him, trusted him, and would ultimately betray him. Time had run out. Aaron wanted the trumpet tomorrow, Pi Day, because its power would be most effective to heal.

  I couldn’t risk not doing as he ordered. Couldn’t risk Mom’s life.

  Not wanting to talk about my relationship with Math, I changed the subject. “How long have you and Falcon been together?”

  “A few months. We recovered the Trumpet of War together.” Aria’s blue eyes grew intense.

  Math had mentioned how Falcon had recovered the bronze trumpet. “Do you have powers?”

  “I received powers when I played the Trumpet of War.”

  She’d played one of the trumpets. Math and the professor had made it seem like playing either of the trumpets would be horrible. Yet here Aria was, alive, happy, and powerful. Something for me to tuck away and think about.

  “How long have you lived with your grandfather?” I should stop asking questions because I needed her to go to sleep so I could sneak around the house.

  “Only a few months.”

  “What happ
ened to your parents?”

  “They died in a car accident.” Her voice cracked. She still dealt with her grief.

  Empathy flowed in my veins. I could relate. Mom wasn’t dead, although she could be soon. “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m lucky to have my grandfather.” She flipped the covers over on the bed and crawled inside. “Really lucky.”

  Sounded like she had a story to tell, but I wanted other information. “Where do Falcon and the other Warriors live?”

  She glanced at the ceiling and then at me. “They have a warehouse south of Market.”

  Hmmm. Math had told me the warehouse had burned down. Aria had been honest about having powers, she acted like she wanted to be friends, except she was lying about the warehouse. Could it be her way of protecting Falcon and the other Warriors? She didn’t trust me. My heart ached for a second until I pushed it aside. I didn’t trust her, either.

  I’d noticed how the Warriors disappeared into the professor’s study and never came back out. A back door possibly?

  “I’m tired.” She stretched her arms and closed her eyes.

  I lay down on the sleeping bag on the floor pretending to be tired. “Good night.”

  “Good night, Piper.” Aria flicked out the lights.

  How could it be a good night? My thoughts tumbled from one thing to the next. Since meeting with Math, I hadn’t had time to think about what he and Ash believed.

  That I had powers.

  I definitely sensed the trumpet. And I’d always been good with mechanical things. But anything else? My tumultuous thoughts circled until the only image I had in my head was the bent cymbal. I couldn’t deny I’d bent the metal with my hands. Super strength?

  Powers didn’t matter if I couldn’t save Mom. She could die tomorrow if I didn’t steal the trumpet.

  If Aaron had been poisoning her to prepare her for the vessel role, he wouldn’t let her die. He had too much at stake. My lungs tightened, pulling and straining in my ribcage. My stomach churned. I planned to steal from a good person, a true Warrior Math, and give the powerful instrument to evil Aaron. Because he’d use it to keep Mom alive.

  Darkness descended except for the light of the moon. The clock in the room tick-tock-ticked. The house quieted and settled. The clock continued to tick-tock. The moon rose higher in the sky. Tick-tock.

  Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

  The clock counted down the minutes to the end of Mom’s life.

  The trumpet was in the house. The trumpet that could save Mom. The trumpet I could sense.

  “Aria, are you asleep?” I whispered from my spot on the floor.

  She didn’t answer.

  Glad someone could sleep.

  Taking one leg out of the sleeping bag, the churning in my tummy grew worse. Shivers crawled over my skin as I crawled toward the closed door. I clasped the doorknob and turned, then pushed the door open.

  The door creaked.

  I stilled, waiting for Aria to wake up. I could tell her I had to use the bathroom. She didn’t wake. I slipped between the door and the frame and stood. Creeping down the hall, I hit the top step.

  Creeaak.

  The noise shot up my spine. I froze again. The creaking noise sounded loud to my ears. I didn’t hear any movement. The professor’s bedroom door stayed closed. The music room was empty. I tiptoed down the steps, across the living room and into the professor’s study.

  I stopped at the closed door and took a deep breath. There was something about this room. It wasn’t an innocent study. I put my palm against the door. Vibrations rocked my hand. The churning in my chest rose, creating a burning sensation. Stealing was the least of my worries.

  I fisted my hand around the knob and opened the study door.

  My shoulders sagged when I saw the normal-looking room with no back door. I’d expected something fancy or futuristic. Something proving this was the home of the Warriors.

  Instead, an old-fashioned, wooden desk sat in the center. Bookshelves lined the walls and were filled with books and musical memorabilia. The trumpet was not lying on the shelves or on the top of the desk.

  I moved behind the desk and ran my fingers around the groove at the edge. The drawers weren’t big enough to hold the trumpet. Lifting my hand, I noticed sawdust sticking to my fingers. The professor must’ve recently done some remodeling.

  Following the slight trail, I noticed footprints impressed in the carpet. Footprints that disappeared into a bookshelf.

  My pulse points pounded, pacing toward the bookshelf. I ran my fingers over the shelves and edges. The color of the wood was stained darker. This part of the bookcase was newer. I examined the footprint in the carpet again. A curved line impressed into the carpet, too. Something had swung open.

  My heart swung, too. This part of the bookshelf must open. This was where the Warriors had gone. And this was most likely where the trumpet was hidden. My muscles tensed. Success was within reach, but not in hand. Nerves jittered in my belly like a malfunctioning robot.

  Using my palm, I pressed against the edges of the section, slapping in a haphazard beat. I picked up a few knick-knacks hoping to find a hidden button and placed them back down.

  Desperate, I touched every spot around the area. Nothing. What had I done to open the statue in the Society’s mansion? If I did have powers, I needed to use them now. I took a huge, calming breath and closed my eyes. Then, I reached out again and touched one of the shelves. Communicating with my mind like I did with car engines and computers, I thought of what I wanted to happen.

  The section of the bookshelf shifted. Moved. Began to swing open.

  My affinity for mechanical things must’ve opened the door like how the stoplights switched to green. Excitement cruised along my spine, but I didn’t have time to celebrate or examine.

  I tensed, waiting for the big reveal. Hoping Warriors weren’t standing behind the door waiting to attack an intruder. Praying the trumpet was inside…

  Behind the bookshelf was just a closet with more cluttered shelves, a couple of musical instruments, and rods to hang clothes. No trumpet. All the adrenaline rushed out of me.

  My muscles sagged, and I collapsed against the edge of the closet door. A normal closet with office supplies and instruments and more junk. Why would they hide a closet behind a bookshelf?

  Huffing, I closed my eyes to think. I needed to focus and feel for the trumpet. Shaking out my body, I relaxed and tried to sense the familiar humming. My body warmed, and my veins flowed with sensations. The humming filled my soul in song. The trumpet might not be in the closet, but it was close. Tingles spiked in my bloodstream. Keeping my eyes closed, I lifted my hand and stepped forward. The humming sensation grew louder inside of me. I kept walking. My hand hit a wall.

  Dead end.

  I pivoted and put my hand in the other direction. The humming lessened. I veered in the opposite direction. Nothing.

  I put my hand on the one spot of the wall where the humming was loudest and opened my eyes. The trumpet was behind this wall. If the study had a hidden closet, why couldn’t the closet have a false wall? The question whirred in my brain. I wanted to bang on the wall to check for its hollowness. But I didn’t want to alert anyone to what I was doing.

  Think. Think. Think.

  I started touching everything, hoping my mechanical power would release a mechanism again. The box of paperclips, the drum on the ground, the violin on a shelf. I held my palm to the light and even wrapped my hand around one of the metal hanging rods.

  Click.

  Crank, crank, crank.

  Mechanical noises came from behind the wall and echoed in my chest. The wall slid open like the bookshelf. Another secret hiding place. Another secret.

  Wooden stairs led down. Emergency lights lit the path. Blowing out a deep breath, I followed. The stairs didn’t make noise and they appeared to have been swept clean. People used these stairs—Warriors.

  The humming buzzed in my brain. The trumpet was down here.
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br />   I paused on the bottom step. A concrete floor covered in rugs with Egyptian designs. Brick walls hanging with local and world maps. Computers cluttered the surfaces and part of the floor. Partially built walls divided the area.

  It appeared to be a work in progress.

  I stepped onto the concrete floor and peeked into the first room. The large, narrow room was lined with sleeping cots. And the cots were filled with sleeping Warriors.

  Warriors who wouldn’t appreciate my midnight intrusion.

  Math slept on his side in the closest bed. Because of his short hair, not a strand was out of place. With his eyes closed, he appeared younger, more innocent. My heart softened at his sweetness.

  He rolled onto his back. His sharp green gaze flew open. He stared for a second as if I were an apparition.

  Sucking in a sharp breath, I took a step back hoping he’d believe he was dreaming.

  Did he dream about me? I went giddy at the thought. Then, the giddiness halted. I was on a mission to steal the trumpet and I’d been foiled. Caught red-handed.

  “Are you okay?” His sleepy tone sounded concerned, not accusatory. He didn’t immediately jump to a negative conclusion.

  He should have.

  Nerves jumped and stuttered, resembling disconnected wires. I gave a limp wave with a hot hand, hoping to get out of this predicament.

  “I was looking for you.” The words rushed, and I realized I sounded alarmed, not sexy. I slowed my speech and made it husky, trying to be flirtatious. “I was lonely and…”

  “How did you find the door?” Whispering, he threw the covers back, exposing his bare torso with his well-defined abs. Abs I’d touched and a body I’d leaned into.

  I licked my lips, wanting to touch him again, to be close to him. I had no right. I was going to steal from him. He’d hate me soon.

  “I noticed the Warriors disappeared into the professor’s office and I—” I puffed my cheeks hoping to look embarrassed, not for spying and getting caught, but for wanting to be with him. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come down.”