The Caelian Cycle Boxed Set

by Donnielle Tyner

  “Kian.” She nodded coolly.

  “Marianne.” Kian nodded back.

  “Well that’s awkward,” I mumbled.

  “You know how I feel about your friend. He’s only here because McCredie and I have come to an agreement,” Marianne replied.

  “But…”

  “We’re not here to hash out your relationship and whether or not I agree with it,” Marianne hissed and I sat back in my chair. My aunt has done many disagreeable things, but she had never spoken to me in anger before.

  “I’m sorry.” Her voice deflated. “There is so much going on. It feels like the world is ending, and all I want to do is protect you from it.”

  I reached across the table and took her hand in mine. She cared in her own way, and I knew she had tried to keep me out of the fight. Her desperation to keep me safe stemmed from her inability to keep my mother from her fate, but I was already so deeply involved, nothing could keep me sidelined forever.

  “I understand, but you can’t protect me from everything.”

  Her other hand wrapped around our entwined fingers. “No. I can’t.” She sniffed and straightened her shoulders, donning her business façade. “That is why I have been asked by the Caelian counsel to ensure that you will participate in a media campaign to improve Caelian-Human relations.”

  “What?” I pulled my hand from hers as my lungs squeezed so tight it hurt to inhale.

  “You will be featured in a series of interviews that show you as a young woman, not the monster your grandfather has claimed.”

  “No.” My voice grew deep and growly. “I’m not ready for that kind of pressure.”

  “Your therapist seems to think otherwise,” she replied as she shuffled through some paperwork, pulling an official statement from Dr. Sokoloff from the stack and showed it to me.

  Sure enough, he had given his official statement that I was fit to be interviewed as long as the environment was peaceful and I didn’t feel threatened.

  “What if you asking me to do this makes me feel threatened?” I met Marianne’s eyes as they narrowed to thin slits.

  “I never thought you to be selfish, Sadie,” she replied, her voice calm yet powerful. “Do you know what your grandfather’s smear campaign against you is doing for Caelians across America? Across the world?”

  “No.”

  “You’ve become this example of what it means to be Caelian, and the only part of you the public has seen is when you’ve used your Talent to almost kill someone and then actually do the deed. Since he couldn’t get his hands on you, Miles is using your image instead. He’s using you to make the divide between norms and Caelians bigger.”

  “I don’t understand why.” I sagged back down into my seat and grabbed Kian’s hand, needing to feel grounded to something outside of this hellish situation.

  “If humans and Caelians have peace, no one is dominant.”

  “What exactly are you asking of Sadie?” Kian questioned.

  I turned my entire body to look at him, shocked that he even asked.

  Marianne appraised Kian again before answering. “We would invite the media to come to the estate and ask her questions in a controlled environment, surrounded by her friends—both norm and Caelian. We have gathered security footage from both the Moreau estate and the underground that features Sadie acting like a normal young woman. We plan to release a compilation along with her interview to the public.” Marianne paused as she turned to look at me, her eyes pools of sorrow. “I’d like your permission to release your statement detailing your imprisonment with the HPC, along with a few pictures of you when you returned.”

  “You’re asking me to bare my soul to the public.”

  “Yes, but I believe this is the only way to sway favor back to unification. Right now, norms have power over our rights because there are more of them. They can push to have the Caelian Registration Act removed or they can pressure the government to make stronger laws. Then what kind of life would we have?” Marianne clenched her hands in front of her chest and pleaded. “Think about how a small sacrifice on your part can help all Caelians.”

  “She’s right,” Kian whispered. “But I know you and no amount of begging from Marianne will change your mind. You need to think about what your heart is saying. Trust yourself to make the right choice.”

  Jedidiah’s words echoed through my mind as I searched my heart. Trust her. Trust your friends. Trust yourself. Trust was confidence in your own safety. Faith. Dependence. Expectation. Trust was hope that you’d never be alone. For me, trusting someone was harder than loving them.

  And I loved my friends. I loved Kian. I loved my aunt despite her aloofness. Did I trust them?

  “I’ll do it.”

  The news crews bustled about, making last minute changes and double checking connections as I stared at myself in the mirror. The woman staring back looked nothing like the girl I was a few months before. This woman looked older, haunted, yet beautiful. None of which was how I felt on the inside. My fingers hovered over my lips, scared to ruin the immaculate job the make-up artist had done to hide the deep bruising under my eyes and to fill out my sunken features. I traced my neck and lingered at my mother’s necklace hanging between my breasts before skimming the silky fabric of the dress Francis had picked out for the interview. It was a beautiful, yet flirty tea length fit-and-flare dress with a high neck and capped sleeves. The plum dress contrasted nicely against my golden skin, and the lacy gold trim added a touch of elegance. My white hair was pulled into a loose bun at the nape of my neck, finalizing my new I’ve-got-everything-together look.

  A warm hand slid around my waist and I looked up to see Kian standing behind me. He wore a plum silk button up with a gold tie and dark jeans. He matched me perfectly. That was Rebecca’s idea. She felt that we needed to have a united front. Everyone present for the interview wore a piece of plum and gold to represent our solidarity.

  “How are you feeling?” Kian’s warm breath tickled my ear, stirring up the butterflies in my stomach and igniting a heat that was getting harder and harder to ignore.

  “Like I need to throw up, but I’m scared it would ruin my make-up.” Kian chuckled as he nuzzled his face into my shoulder. “I’m serious,” I say. “Have you met the make-up artist? He’s terrifying.”

  “I’m scheduled to sit down with him next.”

  “Don’t joke about messing up his work. He threatened to hit me with a hairbrush when I told him I felt queasy.”

  Kian laughed again. “Okay. I won’t.”

  I gripped Kian’s hands around my waist and melted back into him. “Is this the right thing?”

  “Yes, I believe so.”

  “Aren’t you worried about the repercussions? I don’t think my grandfather will just sit back and allow me to try to undo all of his fearmongering.”

  “Whatever happens, we will confront it. I think he will do what he’s going to do to execute his plan, no matter what you do, but at least you’ve done something to sway public opinion. Right now, the norms out there need to see that there are Caelians out here who just want peace.”

  “You’re right.” I paused and twisted my neck so I could look him in the eye. “What about your family?”

  “You, the gang, my employees … you all are my family now. I refuse to associate with the Lanes any longer. They have joined up with the man who not only wants to hurt the woman I love, but believes the majority of the lives on our planet are the equivalent of an animal’s.”

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered before kissing his cheek.

  “Kian. You’re up.” A male associate yelled.

  Kian kissed my forehead. “You’re going to do amazing,” he whispered before he walked toward the stylist’s chair.

  God, I hope so.

  Chapter 22

  Interview with Sadie Moreau

  Reporter: Welcome back. Earlier we discussed Sadie’s blossoming relationship with Kian of Gordon Detective Agency. Kian is a popular bounty detective and to
the Caelian community, he is considered a hero due to his ability and willingness to solve cold cases.

  Sadie detailed her deep friendships with norms Lacy and her brother Michael, as well as the many norm acquaintances in the HCA, including HCA president Timothy McCredie, but now we will dive into the heart of this interview—the graphic videos and Sadie’s account of her capture with the Human Purist Coalition.

  Sadie, you are at the epicenter of the anti-Caelian movement due to a series of viral videos of you using your dangerous Talent. Can you explain your actions and give us a little backstory to the events leading up to the attacks?

  Sadie:I’d be happy to. The first video was the exact moment my Talent manifested.

  Reporter:You were seventeen when it manifested?

  Sadie:Yes. I was under the impression that I would be Talentless, so I didn’t understand that the overwhelming sensations I experienced at the time were my Talent coming to fruition.

  Reporter:Why did you hurt Jesse?

  Sadie:It was completely unintentional. I wasn’t aware of what was happening. Immediately prior, I had received some distressing news about my long lost father and was trying to escape the mall, but Jesse grabbed my arm. After that, I couldn’t control my Talent.

  Reporter:Do you have your Talent under control now?

  Sadie:Yes. My main Talent doesn’t activate without my knowledge anymore, but my secondary is always on.

  Reporter:Secondary?

  Sadie:It’s kind of like a mental radar. I can see where others are located.

  Reporter:Did you have control in the second video?

  Sadie:Yes, but that is a different situation.

  Reporter:How so?

  Sadie:Link murdered Michael—one of my closest friends and brother to Lacy. The pain was fresh on my mind. Then he and a group of Koenig soldiers bombed the orphanage in which I grew up. Right before that video began recording, Link ordered a subordinate to shoot a missile at my friends. That attack resulted in the loss of Rebecca’s leg and the death of our friend John.

  Reporter:So you wanted revenge?

  Sadie:In the moment, yes. But I also knew he would hurt others, and I couldn’t let that happen again.

  Reporter:So you did it to protect others? Including norms?

  Sadie:Yes. I would happily protect anyone from injustice — no matter what their DNA says.

  Chapter 23

  “Earlier this week, the Moreau family released a statement detailing your imprisonment with the Human Purist Coalition. I’m sure many of our viewers have read the document and would like to know how you are doing now that you’ve been released from that nightmare.” The reporter was in full journalist mode, her face a mask of concern as she leaned forward with eager anticipation for my answer.

  Just as I was beginning to relax into the interview, they dropped the HPC bomb.

  “I’m never going to be released from that nightmare. The sting has lessened thanks to my sessions with Dr. Sokoloff, but I will forever have scars, both physically and emotionally, for the rest of my life. Thanks to Dean Kerrington, I will never forget how fear and hate can ruin someone.”

  “Are you scared that Dean Kerrington will return for you?” The reporter licked her ruby red lips in anticipation before tilting her head in interest.

  “Not any more or less than the fear of what my own grandfather wants to do to me.”

  “Your grandfather is Miles Koenig. Since the moment the video of you at the mall surfaced, he has been an advocate for your care. First by searching for you, and then by asking the Caelian Council to entrust you to his care in order to train your unknown Talent. He says only recently he uncovered how dangerous you could be. Yet you claim he is even more dangerous. Why should the public believe you instead of him?”

  “Because there is no future if we follow the Koenigs. They want to classify and separate humans into categories of who is better than the other. He doesn’t want what’s best for everyone, only what will benefit Caelians and ultimately himself. I’ve made mistakes. I’ve done many things wrong, especially since my Talent emerged, but there is one thing I will never align myself with, and that is the idea that Caelians are above norms.”

  “How do you plan to restore norm and Caelian relations?”

  “This interview is a starting point, but I plan—”

  A flurry of movement behind the interviewer distracted me from my answer. Soon everyone scurried about in a frantic chaos. The stage manager walked up with his headset pulled down around his neck, lips pressed into a thin line and eyes widened with fear.

  “I’m sorry, but there has been a development and we will have to reschedule this interview. Our crews are being called to an on location development.” He licked his lips and rubbed the back of his neck while keeping his eyes adverted from my gaze. “All broadcast signals have been interrupted. Miles Koenig is making an announcement.”

  Without thinking, I rushed to the monitor in the next room. A crowd already surrounded the screen, but that didn’t stop me from pushing my way through the crowd. Protests fell silent once they saw my determined face.

  “… day in history. Today is the rise of Caelian power and the subjugation of all whose DNA doesn’t contain the necessary evolutionary means to survive…”

  “Oh my God, Kian. Is that your dad?” Rebecca squealed to my right. One hand covered her mouth and the other gripped Luca’s so tight her knuckles were white.

  I didn’t realize they followed me.

  “Yes,” Kian growled to my left. His face was twisted in anguish and red with restrained fury. “He’s standing on Koenig’s right side in full Order of Caelum garb like some kind of pope. Disgusting.”

  As my grandfather’s speech continued, I felt the warmth of each of my friends as they placed a hand on my back. With my anger stirred, my Talent throbbed in time with my rapidly beating heart. My vision became blurry as I struggled to force down my secondary Talent. Swirls of energy and the monitor screen pulsed—both vying for my full attention.

  “Guys, I’m having a hard time seeing the screen. What’s happening?” I growled, frustrated at my own lack of control. Why did I let him get to me like this?

  “He’s wrapping up his speech. There was no mention of you this time,” Lacy spoke up. Her voice was full of hope that resonated with my own thoughts. Maybe this is just some power play to stop my interview.

  “Wait. What’s that?” Madison demanded. “Oh damn. Damn. Damn. Sadie, get your shit under control. NOW!”

  “What?” My voice screeched with fear as I dug deeper than ever before, locating the source of my Talent deep in my mind. It swirled and pulsated. I focused on pushing my Talent into a walled room, locking it down.

  “Is that Joshua?” Rebecca’s voice broke through my concentration.

  “Oh hell no. That asshole. He was the mole!” Lacy growled.

  With that comment ringing around in my mind, clarity washed over me and I locked away my Talent with little effort. My secondary was still there when I closed my eyes, but it didn’t completely overwhelm me like before.

  I turned to the monitor and the world around me melted away. Walking across the makeshift stage, led by Joshua, was Mrs. LaMotte. She looked sallow, as if she hadn’t eaten the entire time she’d been captured. Her plum hair hung limp around her face in greasy tangles, but her eyes drew me in. They flickered with an anger that promised pain and death to those who dared to oppose her.

  Joshua shackled Mrs. LaMotte to a post next to a norm girl probably close to my age. She looked as haunted as Mrs. LaMotte, but instead of a fire, her eyes held nothing but defeat.

  “Who is that girl?” Madison wondered aloud. “She looks just like you, except a norm.”

  “Madison’s right.” Luca added. “This can’t be good.”

  My stomach twisted and rolled with nervous anticipation. Where’s the National Guard or the HCA? Why aren’t they raiding this location and saving Mrs. LaMotte and that girl?

  The camera panned out
as Miles Koenig walked forward between the girl and Mrs. LaMotte. “On my left stands a woman who stole my grandchild and raised her to believe that norms and Caelians were equal. She poisoned my only grandchild against me. Her brother is HCA president Timothy McCredie. She is a traitor to Caelian superiority. On my right, a norm girl who is unremarkable in every way. She is a stain on humanity’s evolution toward greatness. A stain that must be removed.”

  With bated breath, I watched as my grandfather pulled out a syringe filled with a murky green liquid and a gleaming black pistol. His movements were fluid like a dancer performing a well-practiced routine as he uncapped the syringe and plunged it into the crook of the girl’s thin arm.

  Immediately, her muscles locked up. As her jaw clenched shut, blood began to seep out of the corner of her lips. Her eyes widened as her chest heaved in rapid spurts. Shortly after, her body shook violently, thrashing to the point of breaking the bones in her wrists where they were tied. She cried tears of blood as her head slammed against the post. We watched as she convulsed until her body stilled. It was over in less than two minutes.

  “What the…” Luca started as Kian whispered “Dear God.” I shifted my gaze between the two. Both faces reflected horror and recognition. That’s unusual. Luca met my eyes and the depth of pain in them punched me in the gut. He cut his eyes up and his jaw hardened. I reached out to Luca, but my grandfather’s voice poured over me like ice water, freezing me where I stood.

  “All who oppose the Caelian uprising will be dealt a swift and just punishment—death.”

  The camera zoomed in to Mrs. LaMotte. Her lips moved as she stared at the camera, but I couldn’t make out the words. Was it a message? A prayer? I would never find out, because Miles Koenig settled the pistol’s muzzle against her temple and pulled the trigger. A crimson spray of blood and brain matter exploded on the opposite side as Mrs. LaMotte blinked twice and fell forward before the screen went dark.