In Smoke And Ruins

by Gina Shafer

  “Your father—” I start.

  “No, dear Karina. When I was a child, things were much different than you can imagine. I came from a time when fathers were expected to leave their children, as mine left me.”

  Lincoln circles me, guiding the way to an iron bench at the far side of the pool. I follow, though I probably shouldn’t. But considering my other alternatives, I think I’d rather deal with Lincoln’s mind games than go back inside that house and face Beckett again.

  “What experiences are you referring to then?” I ask once we’ve sat.

  “Elijah and Soren’s, of course,” he says, gesturing toward the back of the house.

  “You can’t seriously be insinuating that Elijah had any choice over being taken and kept from his son for twenty years,” I say, annoyance heavy in my tone. I know better than anyone the guilt that Elijah carries with him over that. There isn’t a chance in hell he would have chosen that life for his son.

  “He chose to leave that morning, no?” Lincoln asks.

  “Yes, but—”

  “He chose to continue going into that warehouse when everything in him was screaming to turn around?” he asks again, looking up at the sky for a moment before returning his eyes to mine.

  “Well, yes.”

  “He chose his fate, Karina. As we all do,” Lincoln says, and in all honesty, he has me completely stumped.

  It’s true; Elijah’s choices that day did lead to his disappearance, but what would have been the repercussions of other actions?

  “So you’re saying he should have not tried to rescue his friend? How can it be his fault if he thought he was doing the right thing?” I ask.

  “I never said that, Karina. I merely said that we all make choices. Elijah made his, and look at where it got him. So did your father, and there’s no excuse for that.”

  He moves to stand, but a thought crosses my mind. He said a time or two earlier. “And what’s your excuse, Lincoln? What led you here?” I ask, sitting back. Lincoln immediately drops back down on the seat. I’ve hit a sore spot.

  “I have a daughter,” he finally answers, and all the breath leaves my chest.

  “You have a—”

  “Daughter. Yes. I have or had—I don’t know anymore. She was taken from me as a young girl, and I’ve spent my existence since that moment, hopping from body to body, anything that could get me closer to finding her.” He sounds so raw that in this moment, if only for a second, I can see his humanity peeking through.

  “Why are you telling me this?” I ask.

  “I don’t know. What I do know is that one day, if I do get her back, I can only hope she gives me another chance to show her the father I can be. Like Soren did for Elijah, and like you have the chance to do with your dad,” he says.

  I’m stunned into silence again. He thinks I should give Beckett a chance to be my father again? Not fucking likely, but I don’t tell him that. Instead, I tell him what I think he should hear.

  “I’m sorry that happened to you… to her,” I say. He nods, finally standing and moving away.

  “Lincoln!” I call as he’s about to go inside. “What was her name?”

  He smiles for a moment, looking at his feet like he’s deciding whether or not he wants to tell me. “June,” he says and then ducks inside the darkness of the house.

  June? Where have I heard that name before? It takes me a minute to remember, but when I do, I damn near fall out of my chair.

  June. The girl Beckett says he was held prisoner with.

  My ears are bleeding.

  No, not literally, but it feels like they damn well should be. Rayna has been crying for over an hour, and not one of us can figure out what the hell to do for her. We’ve tried everything, and to be honest, I’m starting to forget what silence sounds like.

  Every time I lock eyes with Scarlett, my heart bleeds for her. It has to be so insanely frustrating to be here, in a house full of mostly men, warriors, and fighters, with a newborn you have no idea how to care for. Shit, we’ve been running from demons for most of our lives; babies weren’t part of the plan.

  In one of the upstairs bedrooms lies a tiny baby girl, whose father is on the verge of a mental breakdown and whose mother is moments away from falling completely apart.

  The worst part of it all is that there’s nothing I can do about it.

  Elijah and Soren are out on night patrol. We’ve been getting numerous reports of demon sightings near the safe zones, and people are starting to get concerned. I am too, but I haven’t said anything about it to it anyone. I also haven’t mentioned to Elijah—or Lincoln for that matter—that Lincoln’s daughter could very well be Vara’s prisoner, and Beckett might have been locked up with her.

  I think it’s safe to say that my head might explode soon, and not just because of the incessant crying. Who knew babies had such powerful lungs wrapped in such tiny bodies?

  “Scarlett, why don’t you let me take her for a minute?” I ask, rather loudly, so she can hear me over the little red bundle in her arms. She’s pacing back and forth. Micha sits in a corner, concerned.

  “It’s okay, Karina.” She looks at Micha, who blinks for a full three seconds. I don’t think he’s present in this conversation. Her exhaustion is so clear that I know it won’t take much to convince her.

  “Really, Scarlett. It’s no problem. Let me take her for a bit so you two can rest. At the very least, you can deal with her better when you’ve had some sleep,” I tell her, reaching for the baby. She’s reluctant to let go, and it’s only because it’s hard to admit defeat, but I won’t get any rest until Elijah gets back. The worry will keep me up. I’ll admit a crying baby is a better distraction than spending hours on my computer, combing through thousands of demon reports and trying to make sense of it all.

  “Okay. Thank you, Karina.” She hands Rayna to me, placing her gently in my arms. Rayna doesn’t even notice the change.

  “I’ll come get you right away if anything happens,” I tell her, and she nods before walking over and grabbing Micha’s hand. He follows her like a zombie, and they go down the hall and into their room. It’s not a moment later when I hear Micha’s loud snores.

  I look at the baby in my arms and have a mini panic attack. Shit, what was I thinking? I know nothing about babies. Less than nothing. Is there such a thing? Well there is now, because that’s what I know about babies. Negative nothing.

  “Shh, Rayna baby. It’ll be okay. All this crying is keeping Mom and Dad awake, and they need sleep. You still want Mom and Dad to be able to function, right?” I coo, but Rayna only screams louder.

  “Okay then,” I say, clutching her closer to my chest as I go down the stairs.

  In the living room, Beckett is passed out on the couch again, only he doesn’t snore this time. He sleeps so soundly, if you didn’t catch the small rise and fall of his chest, you might think he was dead.

  I bend down in front of the fireplace, placing Rayna on the floor for only a moment. She doesn’t like this, and her screams increase in volume, but before she has a chance to get completely worked up, I’ve got the fire lit, and she’s back in my arms. I sit with her, telling her all of the things I want her to know about her mother and father, about Ted, Xo, and Marcel. I tell her Elijah’s story and what Soren went through without his father. I tell her happy things, like the smell of the air in spring. The way strawberries taste right after you pick them, after they’ve been sunbathing all day. Her little eyes follow the flames as they soar up the chimney, and she finally quiets, letting out the biggest yawn I’ve seen from such a tiny thing.

  “Fire, huh?” I whisper, smiling. “You’ll learn about that one day, little baby. It’ll consume your life if you aren’t careful. But I don’t think you have to worry about that. You have so many people who love you and will protect you from all things evil,” I whisper, kissing her round cheek, reddened by all her tears. Before I pull away, I breathe in her scent, taking one long whiff of that sweet baby smell. Her eyes d
rift closed, and for some reason, I feel such a deep tugging in my chest that it damn near knocks me over.

  The back door opens, there’s mumbling between two low male voices, and boots trudge across tile floors. Elijah and Soren must be back. Willow comes in first, running up the stairs. She must be exhausted.

  “Hey, where is—?” Soren starts to say.

  “Shh!” I whisper, catching their attention. The fire has Rayna and me getting too warm, so I scoot away from the flames and make myself comfortable on the couch across from Beckett. Rayna fidgets a little, but she stays asleep.

  “I’m gonna grab a shower,” Soren whispers.

  Elijah’s eyes bore into mine, like he sees more than me sitting on this couch with a baby in my arms. He sees my soul right now, totally bare.

  “What?” I ask, my voice low and embarrassed.

  “You look beautiful like that,” he says. Almost immediately his face falls, like he didn’t realize what he said until the words left his lips. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I know you can’t—we c-can’t….” he stutters. He kneels next to my legs.

  “I’m not offended,” I tell him. I motion to Rayna. “I’ve made peace that this is never going to happen for me.”. He licks his lips like he wants to kiss me, but I have to ask him something. “Have you?”

  “Have I what?” he asks, confused.

  “Made peace with it?”

  His eyes flick to Beckett and then back to me. He lets out a deep sigh, and I can feel his breath against my face.

  “I won’t lie. Sometimes, the idea of having the chance to do it again, the right way this time, is something I think about. But it’s not something I wish for, if that makes sense.” He runs his hands up and down my arms. “There’s no guarantee that things would be better the second time around. I’m not sure I want to take that chance again, raising a baby in this world. Not with the dangers I already put you through on a regular basis.” He places a tiny peck on my lips before getting to his feet.

  “Good answer,” I tell him, smiling.

  He caresses my cheek and starts to move away.

  “Where are you going?” I ask, frowning.

  “I’m going to make some coffee, so I can stay up and watch you hold that tiny thing a little longer.”

  Yeah, he thinks Rayna’s cute now, but I bet he wouldn’t look too happy if he’d shown up an hour earlier.

  I don’t ever get to share that coffee with Elijah. Before he makes it back, I drift off to sleep. A deep sleep. One full of memories and darkness.

  I wake with a jolt, my arms flailing like I’ve fallen from a great height. Rayna whimpers, and my stomach instantly fills with dread when I think that I’ve dropped her in my sleep.

  I sit up, panicked when I realize Scarlett sits across from me. She’s replaced Beckett on the other couch, with Rayna resting against her chest. Her and Soren are discussing something, but I’m too foggy to understand. I rub my eyes roughly.

  “Hey, sleepy,” Elijah says, coming in from the kitchen. He clutches a large cup of steaming hot coffee, and I say a little prayer that it’s for me. It is.

  He hands it over and plants a kiss on my head as I take a sip.

  “Thank you,” I say, my voice still raw and gravely.

  “Don’t mention it.” He shrugs.

  “What’s the plan for the day?” I ask, confused when I realize every Sicarri member, and Lincoln and Beckett, have gathered in the room. Willow lies peacefully in front of the fire, mostly undisturbed. Except for whenever Beckett moves a little too fast, a deep growl escapes her.

  “We were hoping you could run some intel for us. Last night, when Soren and I were on patrol, more than half the population of that safe zone came to us with complaints about demon sightings in the area. Missing persons too.”

  My brows perk up and I sit a little straighter, setting my coffee on the table. “Shadow-walkers?”

  “No one besides us has seen a shadow-walker for weeks,” Scarlett pipes out, adjusting Rayna.

  I am bewildered. I should have noticed this. Why haven’t I been paying closer attention? “What do we think is happening to them?”

  “To the shadow-walkers or the missing people?” Marcel speaks up.

  “Obviously I care more about the missing people, but there’s no doubt the two are connected. Almost everyone’s story last night was similar,” Soren interjects.

  “What was that?” Micha asks, moving to sit next to Scarlett and Rayna. He tickles the baby’s tummy softly with his finger.

  “Just that they disappeared in the night. Not a single sign of a break-in or that they even fought back. It’s like they were there one minute and then… poof.” Elijah flicks his fingers in the air, punctuating his statement.

  “What do we look for? I’m guessing this is deep undercover stuff. I don’t think I’ll find a chain of emails discussing the disappearance of unburnt.” I stand, cross the room, and grab my laptop from a cabinet in the cherry-wood roll-top desk.

  Sitting with my legs crossed, I listen to the others speculate while I power it up.

  “I think it’s safe to say we’re looking for something hidden,” Soren says. “Like a code word or a list of names. Something obscure. They wouldn’t point an arrow in their direction, but they’ve got to communicate somehow. Scarlett tried tapping into their phones early this morning, but whoever they’re working with is smart. They’re protected from all angles.”

  I dig deep into the database I built from the ground up. It’s the only thing giving us a leg up on the demons. I’ve only ever shared this with a select few Sicarri, Scarlett included. If the demons found out we have this information, they would abandon it.

  “Do we think it’s the shadow-walkers stealing unburnt and using their bodies as their own?” I ask, the idea suddenly seeming completely obvious.

  “Maybe,” Elijah mutters and then he speaks louder. “But it doesn’t make sense. The shadow-walkers hate demons. The only reason they worked with Abe is because we were putting too much pressure on them. Now that Abe is dead, things have calmed. It doesn’t make sense that they would suddenly pick up the demon lifestyle they’ve loathed for so long.” We’re all nodding, except for Beckett.

  “You don’t agree?” I ask, chin jutting out defensively.

  “I didn’t say that,” he answers.

  “Why don’t you tell us what you’re thinking, Beckett?” Soren spits out, standing in front of Beckett.

  I can’t help frowning. Did Beckett say something to piss Soren off this morning? My attention flicks to Elijah, who’s stare is hard and piercing. What the hell happened?

  “Well, it’s just funny how blind some of you are.” Beckett chuckles, and I notice Soren’s hands visibly flex at his sides. At this, Willow jumps up and goes to sit at his feet.

  “What the hell is going on here? What do you mean?” I damn near fling the laptop off my lap and cross the room, standing at Soren’s side. Elijah moves in behind me, and I realize how menacing the three of us must look, towering over Beckett, who’s staring up at us with his hands raised as if he means no harm.

  “Your boy just don’t like me, that’s all,” Beckett tells me.

  “Come on, Soren, sit down,” Lincoln says, and I’m surprised that he’s met with no resistance.

  Soren obeys, and Willow follows him. I move too, but I don’t sit. I linger in front of the fireplace, which has only a tiny flicker of flame and a trickle of smoke.

  “What do you mean, we’re blind?” I ask Beckett, now that the room has calmed.

  “Don’t you see? This has Vara’s name written all over it.” I notice the bottle of amber liquid snuggled in the crook of his arm.

  “What the hell does this have to do with Vara?” Marcel’s angry voice booms through the room. I can tell he’s just about had it with Beckett. Almost everyone is staring at Beckett like he’s gum on the bottom of their shoe.

  I can’t help the guilt that sticks me, like a roast pig, straight through the be
lly.

  “I mean, isn’t it obvious? She wants an army. Always talkin’ about it. And Vara can be very persuasive. I don’t have no doubt she talked them shadow-walkers into a new life, blah blah blah, and now they’re workin’ as her lil’ minions. Doin’ her dirty work for her. They’ve got these fresh bodies, drawin’ power from an unburnt’s fire; it don’t surprise me that more and more have gone missing.” The entire time Beckett speaks, the room is silent. The more words leave his mouth, the more he starts to make sense.

  “It makes sense.” Ted speaks for the first time, reflecting my thoughts.

  Xo quickly nods. “If she really wanted an army, the shadow-walkers would be the best place to go. They’ve got no allegiance. They would put up no fight. Especially now.”

  “Especially now?” Scarlett echoes.

  “They’ve been more desperate for soul-fire in the last year. Their bodies are deteriorating even faster than before. They haven’t had a guaranteed power source in a long time. Haven’t you noticed them becoming less and less like the people they used to be? I mean, shit, I haven’t heard a shadow-walker speak in over a year,” Micha tells his wife. He rubs his face, pinching the skin between his eyes for a moment.

  Understanding dawns. It makes so much sense now that it’s almost comical we haven’t put it together before. That might even be why the demons were desperate for that deal with Abe. I tell them this, unable to hide the tremor in my voice. This is bad.

  Who knows what Vara is capable of?

  “How do you know so much about Vara?” Elijah asks suspiciously. He doesn’t even try to hide it.

  “I told you, she held me prisoner,” Becket answers, sitting straighter and then wincing at the pain in his side. I still haven’t given him anything for that, but then he hasn’t asked.

  “You told us that. How long did she have you?”

  Beckett lets out a deep breath and briefly closes his eyes. “I don’t like to think about it much.”

  “Well, just this once then,” Elijah pushes. A smirk hangs off his lips, saturated with malice. It’s not something I see from Elijah often.