The Shadow Children (The Demon-Born Trilogy Book 1)

by L. C. Hibbett

  Jasmine slowed her pace and looked into my face. “What?”

  I squeezed the flower, covering my fingers in sticky nectar. “It was just something Deirdre said. About this being a hard life. Lonely. But you guys all seem so passionate about the Shadow Children.”

  Jasmine started walking again, wrapping a strand of hair around her finger. “I don’t regret being a Shadow Child. I’m proud of what we do. The Guardians and the other Angels— the way they treat the Half-Born is wrong. There has to be a better way. I’ll fight that injustice until I take my final breath.”

  Jasmine’s voice was quiet, and I strained to hear her over the seagulls circling overhead. “But I wouldn’t choose this world for someone I love. I won’t have children. I couldn’t ask them to live this life.” The crushed poppy dropped at my feet. “No kid should have to accept that every goodnight kiss might be their last, Grace. To have to bury their father before their tenth birthday. To wonder every morning is their mother dead or is she being held prisoner and tortured in one of the Silent Homes. I couldn’t do that to a child. I couldn’t.”

  I bit my lip and stared at the ground. I took a few steps before I could speak without my voice quivering. “I’m so sorry, Jasmine. I didn’t know. I should have asked. I’m a terrible friend. I just assumed your parents were with another cell.”

  She tucked her hair behind her ear. “No. Not in another cell. Not anywhere. Elijah tried so hard to find our mom. Fought like hell to make the team so he could go on active missions. Every Silent Home they raid he still hopes—”

  Jasmine pressed her lips together and exhaled. “I wouldn’t take back what we do for a second. But I understand why Deirdre might feel cheated. She was only married a couple of years when her husband vanished. She lost her pregnancy the same month. It can be a pretty crappy existence sometimes.”

  We walked on in silence. I ached to find the right words, but my tongue failed me. I reached out and squeezed Jasmine’s hand. She gripped it tightly, holding it all the way back to the house.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Emmanuel’s study was at the front of the house, overlooking the grand entrance to Shadow Hall. Jasmine dropped my hand when we reached the door. “Better go see what he wants. You could come help me with Dawn’s group after if you like?”

  I laughed. “A room full of kids covered in wet clay. I can hardly wait.”

  She gave me a thumbs up and jogged towards the stairs.

  “Hey, Jasmine.” She raised her brow, waiting for me to continue. “Is Deirdre as good at magic as she says she is?”

  Jasmine nodded. “Better. Wait until you start proper magic sessions. She’ll blow your mind.” She spread her arms out wide and made exploding noises.

  “Thank you for alerting me to Grace’s presence, Jasmine. A knock will be sufficient next time.” Emmanuel's voice slid across the foyer from the open doorway. Jasmine grinned her apology and waved goodbye before scampering up the stairs. Emmanuel gestured for me to enter his study, closing the door firmly behind us.

  It was a beautiful room, lined with warm mahogany bookshelves along one wall and a large window on the other. Facing the door was a marble fireplace. Flames licked the hearth despite the warmth of the day. Emmanuel waved his hand towards it apologetically. “I’m always cold in this country, winter or summer.”

  He pulled out a chair for me on one side of a vast writing desk before settling himself on the opposite side. There were two steaming teacups sitting on the table. I glanced at the chaise longue facing the ocean view. I wondered had Eve ever sat there, drinking her tea as she watched the waves, surrounded by heavy tomes. I could picture her there. I lifted the cup to my lips, savoring the first bitter sip.

  “You are unusually slow to come into your powers, Grace.” The cup jolted in my hand. Emmanuel continued speaking. “I apologize if that feels like a judgment. But it’s something I feel must be acknowledged.”

  I set the cup down. “I’ve only been unbound for a week, do most people come into their magic that quickly?”

  Emmanuel opened a leather-bound book and flicked through its pages until he found what he was looking for. “It’s been almost a month since your binding was broken.” He held up a hand to preempt my response. “Magic has little respect for the state of consciousness a person is in. Unless it’s a bound sleep. The fact remains that after several weeks of potential for magic you have experienced one single flash of power. A significant moment, and very much appreciated, but you failed again to harness any power during todays lesson.”

  I considered defending myself with the information that I had felt himself and Eve arriving at the magic lesson, but it seemed too pathetic to mention. Emmanuel pressed on. “Your foster niece was able to influence the tides after a week. Her mother has shown slightly less raw talent and even still, Catherine has already mastered the spirit blade, slipping, and how to control the weather.”

  I crossed my legs. “I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry if I am bit slower.”

  Emmanuel flicked his wrist. “The slowest. I have never known of another Demon-Born whose gifts were so delayed.”

  My cheeks burned. “Is there something you would like me to do about it? I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m not sure what it is that you want from me.”

  Emmanuel reached across the table and pressed his long, brown fingers against my fist. It was closed into a fist. “Please, do not feel insulted, Grace. These are simply facts.” My fingers relaxed under his touch, and a wave of calm caressed my skin.

  He slid his hand back to his own side of the desk. “What I want is for you to harness your gifts, Grace. It’s regrettable that you can’t be afforded the luxury to master your skills at the pace nature intended, but I am afraid these are trying times.” He patted the open diary. “If my most recent suspicions are confirmed then we are in a far more precarious position than I had once feared.”

  The clock on the mantelpiece chimed twice. Two o’ clock. Emmanuel tapped his fingers on the table. “The others will be here shortly, then we can be on our way.”

  “On our way, where?” I could feel my heart pounding faster.

  “Emotions, Grace. They are the key. The head is the Human concern, and it should never be underestimated. The Angel community is steeped in privilege, but they exist in a world engineered by Human minds.”

  He placed a hand flat against his chest. “The heart. That is where you will find your magic. But sometimes you must let your heart rule your head, Grace, if you wish to release the power. You may never have every answer you seek. Do not let your hunger for knowledge strangle your heart. Sometimes there is no why.”

  I drew my brows together. “You’re saying that I have no magic because I want to understand the hidden world?”

  “Not just the hidden world, Grace. Everything. You want to examine the complete picture in every scenario before you surrender your heart to the experience.”

  I dug my fingers into my thighs. “You know this because you have met me, what, a handful of times?”

  Emmanuel showed no reaction to my tone. “I know this because it is what I know.”

  I pressed my hand against my mouth for a moment. “Asking questions is normal. Wanting to know what sort of a mess you’re getting into is normal.”

  Somebody knocked twice on the study door. Emmanuel closed his book softly. “It is normal, Grace. For a Human.”

  He patted my shoulder as he went to answer the door and I resisted the urge to stick my tongue out at his all-knowing back.

  “I am sorry, Emmanuel, I got here as close to two o’clock as I could. You do realize that Peter has sent Cain off on some wild goose chase after some flash or other he sensed in Carcassonne? I went to Peter’s study to tackle him, but there’s no sign…” Eve’s voice faded off as she spotted me at the table. She stepped forward. “Grace. You’re already here.” I straightened my shoulders and she shot Emmanuel a loaded glance. “Emmanuel. We agreed to talk to Grace together.”

&n
bsp; “You agreed what?”

  Emmanuel met Eve’s eye steadily, both of them ignoring my question. “We made no agreement, Eve. This is my cell.”

  “And she is my girl. Have some respect.” Eve’s jaw was clenched as she glared at him. Emmanuel reached his hand out to touch her cheek, and I looked away, suddenly feeling like I was spying on a private moment.

  “The slip’s open, Emmanuel.” The unexpected sound of Sam’s voice caused my heart to slam against my sternum with enough force to crack ribs. I stared down at my hands, inwardly cursing my treacherous emotions.

  Emmanuel turned to Sam. “Thank you, Samuel. We are ready.”

  Eve crossed the room and stood beside me. “Grace, Emmanuel feels— we both feel that if you gain a wider experience of the hidden world, then your thirst for understanding may be sated to a degree that will allow you to access your magic.”

  I rubbed my thumb over my torn cuticles. Eve’s hand hovered above my shoulder. “This is my fault, Grace. I kept you in the dark. About Demons and the Shadow Children. Almost everything. I couldn’t keep Catherine from the knowledge, but I thought I could protect you if you only knew the essentials.” She shook her head. “I’ve left you vulnerable. But if you come with us and see first hand some of that world for yourself, even for an hour or two…”

  I closed my eyes and exhaled. “Okay. Where are we going?”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Sam had opened a slip on the front lawn, facing away from the ocean. I circled it twice and my eyes stung with the effort of processing its existence. Emmanuel dialed a number on his mobile phone. “Deirdre, could you please come to the front of the house.”

  He walked back towards the steps to meet her as she emerged from the bowels of the building. I trailed behind, reluctant to talk to Eve and unwilling to let Sam’s silence hollow me out further still. Deirdre’s feet were bare, and her toenails had been painted a bright pink. “Emmanuel? Everything okay? I was giving Jabol a hand with our guests. Peter sent Cain to research some activity in France, and Catherine and Paul are tied up with the smaller ones.”

  Emmanuel nodded. “I am aware, thank you. Eve and I need to take a brief visit back to her cottage to retrieve items which may be of consequence. Please inform Peter of this if he should return before I do. I will leave Shadow Hall in your capable hands. Elijah and Jasmine are both present to man the gates but I would rather if you took control while the situation is still unclear.”

  Emmanuel had made his way back to the slip as he finished speaking. Deirdre called after him, gesturing at myself and Sam. “You taking these two with you?”

  Emmanuel gave a dry smile. “I fear what the outcome might be if I left Ms. Grace under the influence of Lucas and Elijah for any prolonged period of time.”

  Deirdre laughed and Emmanuel stepped through the slip, holding out his hand to Eve. I raised my arm to wave goodbye to Deirdre, but she was already gone, vanishing back inside the house as quickly as she had appeared. I turned my palms to the sky. “What is the story with this place? You people are just odd.”

  Sam’s lips twitched, and I felt a rush of longing for the days when he used to smile at almost everything I said. I pulled the sleeves of my jacket down over my hands. “Sam, can we just call a truce? No more bitching or blame, or whatever. Just friends, like before all that other stuff. I don’t care about the library or anything else. That stupid stuff shouldn’t matter. Not after what we saw last night. Can we just be regular classmates.”

  Sam’s face clouded over, and his eyes darkened in a way that would have made my knees weak if I let it. Emmanuel called us from the other side of the slip, and Sam’s expression cleared. He held out his arm to let me pass through. “Sure, Grace. Good idea. Friends.”

  Sam gave me a stiff attempt at a smile. It was exactly what I had asked for. My white flag. I had nobody but myself to blame for the ache in my chest. I squeezed my arms against my sides and ducked through the rip in the air. My friend followed, a respectful distance behind me.

  At first glance, it almost appeared like we were where we should be. Tall trees surrounded us and branches swayed gently above our heads. But these trees stood straight and proud, they weren’t bowed and twisted by decades of relentless Atlantic winds.

  I shook Sam’s arm to stop him from sealing the slip. “You got the wrong place, Sam. This isn’t Hidden Cottage.” I took a deep breath, inhaling the crisp woodland scent. There was no trace of the sea in the air. “We aren’t even close.”

  Sam looked over my shoulder at Emmanuel before continuing to press the jagged edges of the slip together, healing the wound with delicate pinches. Emmanuel touched my hand gently. “I’m afraid I wasn’t entirely honest about our destination today. Not everyone in the cell approves of my liaison with the Demon world.”

  He walked past me, and Sam followed him. Eve kept pace with me. I pressed my lips together and ran my fingertips over my ragged cuticles. The forest thinned, giving way to flat parkland which sloped gently down to a wide meandering river. A rumbling sound filled my ears. I eyed the rough path, unable to see what was coming around the bend. My fingers tightened around Eve’s slender wrist, and I felt my limbs turn to stone as it came closer.

  Squeals of delight assaulted my ears as a toddler rushed past us, his wagon bumping up and down on the rough sloping path. A red haired woman shouted her apologies over her shoulder as she rushed after the speeding child. “Sorry, birthday present, still getting the hang of it.”

  I pressed my fingers against my temples. “We’re in a public park? Are you kidding me, Emmanuel? What if that child had seen us coming through the slip?”

  Emmanuel tilted his head toward a gazebo and sauntered in that direction. He lifted his hand to shield his eyes from the sun as he scanned the sky. “Not exactly a public park, no. Our hosts own the grounds, and they welcome locals make use of it.”

  Emmanuel settled himself onto one of the wooden chest benches inside the octagonal pavilion. His gaze had focused on a bird of prey circling overhead. “If the mother and child had seen us emerge from the slip they wouldn’t have recognized what they were seeing, Grace. Their brains would rationalize it in a manner which was acceptable to their perception of the world. Such is the nature of the barrier created by the Great Divide.”

  I pursed my lips. “And if they had been Angels?”

  “If they were Angels then I would have used my own skills to remove any difficulties.”

  The bird swooped lower and released a piercing shriek. It was an eagle. I stood to watch its descent. As it came close to the ground, the bird convulsed and melted. I leaned out of the gazebo, my mouth hanging slackly as I watched the eagle transform like putty from a bird into a fox.

  I sat down heavily as it slunk through the grass and trotted into the pavilion, stopping at my feet. It stared at me, bobbing its head. Emmanuel gestured at the chest the butt was firmly planted on. “I believe our host wishes to gain access to his clothes, Grace.”

  I jumped up. “Oh, feck. Sorry. I’ll just, eh, go over here.”

  My cheeks burned as I turned my back to the fox. Eve looked discreetly out across the field. I caught her eye and we both smirked.

  “Well, I do thank you most kindly, ladies. I certainly appreciate your generosity in allowing me the dignity of dressing myself without an audience. Although I feel obliged to inform you that you may just have done yourselves a disservice.”

  I turned my head. There was no longer a fox standing behind me but a slim man with dark eyes and olive skin. His black hair was parted neatly, and his clothes were simple but elegant. I wondered how his shirt managed to avoid wrinkling inside the chest.

  Emmanuel stood up and bowed his head to the shorter man. “Mathas, thank you for agreeing to meet on such short notice.”

  Mathas splayed his fingers. “You are doing us a favor, young man. It’s been too long since we had guests to entertain. The lady of the house is waiting to receive us back at the homestead.”

 
He tipped his head and gestured for myself and Eve to go ahead, but didn’t ask for an introduction. The path from the gazebo wound its way up the gentle slope to reveal the most breathtaking building I had every set eyes on. Gray stone walls rose three stories into the air. On either side of the building, a curved wing of rooms billowed out, supported by several vast columns. Sunlight glinted off rows of windows.

  Mathas drew up beside me. “When we first built this beauty, she had more windows than Buckingham Palace. That vexed the royal family in ways you can’t imagine. My beautiful wife was determined to stand her ground, but in the end, I convinced her to turn two of the windows into doors. It’s not worth falling out with the High Council over a few panes of melted sand.”

  My brows twitched. “The royal family are Angels?”

  Mathas grinned. “Close on anyone who has power they haven’t earned in this world is an Angel.”

  Emmanuel spread his arms wide, indicating the splendor in front of him. “Or a Demon.”

  Mathas let out an appreciative chuckle. “Ain’t that the truth, my friend.”

  He led us up large granite steps and through the ornate front doors. A curved staircase wound its way up through the building, but we stayed on the ground floor, passing through an endless stream of lavishly decorated rooms.

  The space became simpler as we moved away from the front of the house. Marble floors gave way to scrubbed flagstones, and we came to a halt in a small kitchen garden. A simple wrought iron table and chairs and a matching swinging chair were the only furniture. A gardener was bent on his knees at the edge of a bed of vegetables with a large sunhat covering his eyes.

  Mathas settled himself on the swinging chair. “Three hundred years since we built this home and still the only place my glorious wife wants to be is in the garden.” I searched the small courtyard for any sign of this beautiful lady while Mathas continued speaking. “And now that it’s coming close to time for us to move on for a few decades, until the locals have forgotten our faces again, I won’t ever get her inside. The sooner I get that woman back across the ocean and into a cute dress, the better.”