Descendants Series

by Melissa Wright

  “I might have agreed with you, Seth, if not for their character.”

  “Who?” I said. “Which ones?”

  Brendan sighed. “Caleb and Noah.”

  “Oh gods.” Kara sounded sick. We all knew Caleb and Noah. Neither of them were the sort of man to commit suicide, or kneel down to Morgan.

  It was true then. Morgan had figured out a way to use the sway against our own kind. He could control them.

  He could control us all.

  “Four more of the Council have receded, but at this point I don’t know who we can trust,” Brendan said. “I’m afraid to bring anyone else to our side if the influence is genuine.”

  “He has to be stopped,” Kara said. “This isn’t right. No one should have that power.”

  Emily huffed quietly beside me at Kara’s hypocrisy, but there was no humor in it. This was bad for everyone, but Brianna most of all. Without our immunity, there was no one to keep her safe.

  And then a lead weight settled in my stomach. There was no one to keep any of us safe.

  “But what about—” Seth started, and then suddenly remembered Brianna beside him and fell dumb.

  “We should continue this in the conference room,” Brendan said. He glanced at me. “Aern?”

  I subtly shook my head. No matter that I’d left Brianna under their protection, no matter that I was staying in their house, I would not join the Division simply because we shared the same enemy. I still had some choice. I wasn’t certain exactly what that was at the moment, but there had to be another option.

  Kara glared at me openly, but Brendan and Seth didn’t take the time to try and convince me. The three of them were gone a moment later, and we sat alone at the small round table, the dragon, the prophecy girl, and her twin.

  When Emily realized Brianna was crying, she startled us all by moving. She crossed to Brianna, who’d not made a sound but bore red-rimmed eyes and telltale tracks of a few escaped tears, and led her silently from the table.

  I walked to the balcony, and stood unaccompanied for some time before Ellin found me and asked if there was anything I needed. There was. I gave her a list and she nodded before quickly disappearing.

  It was Wesley who delivered the disposable phones.

  “Is there anything else I can do?” he asked.

  I leaned against the balcony railing; the chill wind bit at my exposed skin. Wesley didn’t appear to notice the temperature, or my critical gaze.

  “Do you have any information that I should know about?”

  He went a little pale.

  “Because, unlike the others, I have only one goal here. I intend to save Brianna, prophecy or no.”

  He shook his head in a stuttered nod. “Yes… I mean, no. No there’s nothing I haven’t reported.”

  I frowned. “There is something between you and Brianna, Wesley.”

  A sort of shudder ran through him, and he sputtered out denials so quickly I could only understand every third word.

  “Calm down,” I said, stepping toward him. “Brianna is not the enemy. If you’ve been feeding her information—”

  “No,” he spat. “No, I mean no, sir. I would never… The Division is all I have left. I couldn’t—” He was swiftly approaching the risk of hyperventilation.

  “Wes, it’s okay. I only want you to tell me what it is. If there is something going on, I need to know. For Brianna.”

  He nodded, gulping air as he did so. I gave him a few minutes to gather himself before trying again.

  “What is it then?”

  His face had recovered from the pallor, but he unexpectedly colored at the idea of answering. I stared at him, a flash of disbelief. Surely they weren’t…

  “No!” Wesley cried, seeing my expression, “How could you even… No.” He groaned. “Brianna, she’s just… she’s helping me is all.”

  Silence hung between us for a moment. “Helping you?”

  He shifted his feet, glanced at the lawn. “You know how it is,” he muttered, “with Brendan and… before.”

  I felt my shoulders relax. Whatever Brianna and Wesley were doing, it didn’t seem to be dangerous. I waited for the rest of the explanation.

  He nervously wrenched a hand over the side of his neck, not wanting to delve into further embarrassment. “She saw the trouble I was having… she saw Brendan and the others, how things were going, and she offered to help. That’s all, Mr. Archer, I swear it. I would never tell her—”

  I held up a hand to stop him, glancing pointedly at the balcony doors to his back, before carrying on a feigned conversation. “That will work perfectly, Wesley. And thank you for the prompt delivery of these phones. Oh, Ellin.” I glanced at her before a cursory nod at Wesley to dismiss him, and though he managed to school his features, his eyes betrayed an eternal gratefulness for the escape.

  Ellin handed me a folder. “Mr. Archer,” she said in greeting, exhibiting the flawless business manner Brendan expected of all his staff. “If there is anything else I can do for you, please let me know.”

  “This is sufficient for now, Ellin. Thank you.” I slipped the folder under my arm. “But could you have something sent up for Brianna?” She waited. “Hot tea, I think.”

  Ellin nodded, barely able to maintain her impassive façade at the reference. I winked, certain the whole house was whispering about the state the prophecy girl had their stalwart leader in, and Ellin quickly spun to go. It felt odd to be anything but serious in a moment like this, but it seemed to happen of its own accord these days. I guessed my training was kicking in. If there was anything my father had taught me, it was to be calm in the face of disaster. Excitement spread like fire, and in the end someone always got burned.

  Ellin had closed the balcony doors behind her, but both of us knew I didn’t have any real privacy. Not that it mattered; if my suspicions were correct, there would be no need of it. I pocketed one of the phones, flipped the other open.

  When I dialed Avery, I had some hope. But there was nothing, not so much as a “this line has been disconnected” message on the other end. By the time I tried Nathan, I knew I wouldn’t be able to reach any of them. Morgan had managed to cut me off from all of those loyal to Council traditions, all those who might have been a help. I snapped the card from the back of the disposable phone and tossed it.

  I leaned against the rail to page through the reports Ellin had given me. As I read the final page, I sighed. From the looks of things, the flicker of unrest was the least of our problems. We were about to walk into the flames of hell.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Irresistible Forces

  As I walked through the halls, I overheard several small arguments and agitated conversations regarding what was to be done about Morgan and the Council. Apparently the meeting had broken up, and Brendan hadn’t been able to satisfy his followers with whatever mode of action, or inaction, he’d decided on. I hoped none of them were brave enough to attempt it on their own, and then internally flinched at the idea of my own intentions. Two days, and I still didn’t have a plan.

  I knew I could get close to Morgan, there was no question of that. He would put on a show for what was left of Council, place his arrogant younger brother on display while he spouted quotes like “see how the mighty have fallen.” But Morgan had never truly underestimated me. In all the years he treated me as his subordinate, he’d never trusted that I was. He simply wanted to keep me in check, keep up the pretense and watch my every move. I tried not to think of what he might have done to the others. If he could bring a man to stab himself in the heart over a disagreement, he would surely have acted against those who’d openly supported me, those who had wanted me to take his place.

  I turned the corner to the hall our rooms were on and froze.

  Emily stood in the center of the corridor, staring up at Eric. The moment lasted an eternity, my chest tight as I took in the scene. Eric, of the Division, never a member of Council and never trusted, was inches from Emily, his hand resting on her
arm—the hand that he needed to work his sway, the hand he’d used to manipulate human women, the hand that could tear her mind apart.

  My muscles unfroze and I was running for him before my mind could process anything further. He was touching her. He was touching Emily.

  He only had time to turn his head before I slammed into him. The two of us landed several feet from where he’d stood, and I had his head in a lock hold before he realized he’d been attacked. But Eric was big and solid, and one of the best fighters among the Division. He pressed a foot against the corridor wall and pushed, using his mass to roll us both. I tightened my grip, cutting off his air supply, and he threw an elbow into my ribs and then rolled backward in an attempt to flip out of the hold.

  It didn’t work and he flailed, halfway over, and then came down hard before spinning sideways and using the wall to roll us again. When he got his feet, he raised us both, and slammed me into the wall where I clung behind him. I dropped the hold and drew back to strike him when Brendan burst out the door beside me and grabbed my arm. Suddenly he and Seth and Kara were struggling to separate us and yelling profanities.

  The lot of us fell silent when Brianna stepped into the hall.

  “I’m sorry,” Brendan said after a moment. He glared at me. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”

  “He’s only protecting us,” Brianna replied, but her words were for me, not Brendan.

  And then I realized they’d all come out of Brianna’s room.

  “You aren’t in danger here,” Brendan said, looking at first to Emily and then Brianna. “Neither of you.”

  His glare met Eric then, and it was clear he wasn’t included in the promise of safety.

  Eric wiped his mouth. “I was apologizing, that’s all.” He looked at me, started to say more, and then pushed past all of us to leave.

  Kara scowled at me again, crossed her arms and followed Eric’s lead.

  “We’ll talk more later,” Brendan told Brianna, and then shook his head one final time before he and Seth went as well.

  I shrugged to straighten my shirt, and then crossed to Emily, who stood silent, as if watching the scene replay before her. I grabbed her, a hand on each side of her head, and her eyes went wide as I stared into them, searching. I didn’t know what I expected to find, some telltale sign, some revealing feature that said she’d been hurt, but I couldn’t stop looking.

  “Aern,” Brianna said from beside us. “She’s fine.” She placed a gentle hand on my arm. “I’m sorry I left her alone.”

  My shoulders sagged at her words, and I loosened the grip I had on Emily.

  “Come,” Brianna said, “we’ll have some tea.”

  In the end, I had begged off the invitation. In a day and a half, I would be meeting Logan and the others to go after Morgan. I had to be prepared.

  Though I hadn’t mentioned my plans to anyone aside from Logan, Brianna had said she understood. She had told me to rest and the answers would come. I didn’t suppose it was any real secret that Morgan had to be stopped, or that I was a likely candidate to take action, but that didn’t keep Brendan’s words from returning. She knows too much.

  I shook my head and went back to the reports in front of me. None of it mattered if I didn’t find a way to stop Morgan. He’d managed to split us off from everyone who remained associated with Council. He’d recruited youth, he’d threatened elders, he’d made them take sides. And now there was nothing left to salvage.

  Even if it wasn’t true, even if Morgan didn’t have the ability to sway our own kind, he’d succeeded in tearing apart the brotherhood among Council. He’d destroyed all trust. He’d forced us to war with our own kind. Men had died, and this was only the beginning.

  I read through page after page of reports from the Division’s men. Warehouse purchases, missing person reports, human profiles, burned buildings, money transfers. Morgan was so thick into so many varied affairs, it was hard to see any pattern to his dealings. But one factor was prominent across the board: acquisition. He was gathering. Weapons. Buildings. Businesses.

  People.

  He had amassed untold numbers, our kind and commonblood. He was building an army. He would be unstoppable.

  The Division could not handle a war of so many without resorting to Morgan’s methods. And even if they stooped to his level, the battle couldn’t be won by humans. It wouldn’t be over until our kind was wiped out on one side or the other. And there would be none of us left, the prophecy had made that clear. The prophecy had given only two outcomes. Both involved destruction, but there was only one choice that didn’t end in Armageddon. There was only one option to save us all.

  Page after page, report after report, nothing I could see would hold up to Morgan. Whether he truly held sway against our own kind or not, nothing short of the chance Division had given me would do it. And it was the one thing I wasn’t sure I could do.

  “Can I help?”

  Emily’s words startled me and I looked up, surprised to find her standing in the doorway of the library. How long had she been there?

  She took a few tentative steps forward. “I need something to do,” she said, glancing over her shoulder. “I can’t just sit here, when they might be… when Brianna…”

  I closed the folder on the desk in front of me. “I understand.” I was feeling helpless, too. “I was only going through some financials, some of the intel they’ve gathered on Morgan’s doings.”

  She nodded, coming closer. “Any luck?”

  She wasn’t going to come right out and ask me what we planned to do. She knew I couldn’t tell her, even if I’d wanted to. And, honestly, I had no idea what Brendan’s plans were.

  “There’s a lot to go through,” I offered. “You’re welcome to join me.”

  She let out a relieved breath and sat opposite me in a large brocade reading chair, the desk between us. “Great. Where do I start?”

  I passed a folder over, the contents innocuous enough even if it was fifty pages of small print. “We’re looking for anything suspicious, anything that might indicate a strike point or strategy.”

  She stared up at me. “You mean you think he’s going to attack you.”

  “The Division,” I corrected. “Morgan has a personal vendetta against me, but the Division is his only true adversary. The one group with the knowledge of his legitimacy and the means to stop him.” The one group that would challenge his rule.

  Her brows drew together, and I thought she meant to say something, but she nodded slowly and looked down at the folder in her lap. I watched her as she settled in to her task, the truth in my words falling away from the rest in my mind.

  No one else did understand the threat. No one but Council and the Division understood the importance of this decision. Council had already fallen to Morgan. I didn’t think I had ever truly believed it possible, in all the years I’d been taught the prophecy. How could Council, the entity that raised me, the being that embodied our entire history, fall apart? But it had. It had been taken down. And the Division was next.

  I had to do something, I knew that. But even if I managed to reach Morgan, if I somehow overtook him, tricked him, stabbed him in the heart the first instant I came close enough, nothing would be solved. The Council was in ruin, there would be no reconciliation between the lines, and all that awaited was the end of days.

  But Morgan did have sway against his own. And if I reached him, he could turn me. Brendan’s pleading tore at me. You are our only chance.

  So that was it, then. It was the union or nothing. It didn’t matter that I didn’t want reign over Council, over all our kind. It was the only way.

  My eyes involuntarily found Emily, feet propped on the desk as she turned page after page and scanned through the addresses. It had always seemed like the last option, the final, never-to-be-used backup plan, but deep down I didn’t doubt I would have surrendered to the Division and created the union with Brianna all along if I’d needed to. If it meant saving the world. But now
, watching Emily, it seemed like more of a sacrifice than I remembered.

  I would be bound to Brianna.

  But it wouldn’t be long, would it? In two days, I was likely to die at the hands of Morgan. I might save the others, I might give them all a chance, but there wasn’t any guarantee I would make it. There was no way to know if Morgan would use his sway to turn me against those I’d meant to protect in some sick notion of rightfulness.

  There wasn’t a surety of anything.

  It was the best I could do, though. The best chance at keeping them both from harm.

  Emily reclined in the chair, and I couldn’t help but think of the first night I’d held her in my arms. This time, I didn’t stare at my boots. I let my eyes roam over her, memorizing every part, lingering on the line of her neck, the curve of her lips. I could still see the way the sunrise colored her face through the hotel window, could still recall the sweet scent of her shampoo.

  A horrified, “No,” slipped from Emily’s lips and then her feet fell from the desk to land hard on the floor beneath her. She was suddenly standing, staring at me. Terrified.

  “What is it?” I asked, around the desk before I’d had time to process her reaction.

  The folder fell away, and only the stack of papers remained in her hand, thirty or so pages back.

  “Emily, what?” I begged.

  Her eyes fell to the paper, her other hand pointing to a small, insignificant line. It was an address, a city southwest of here. I didn’t understand the connection.

  “My mother,” she whispered. “Oh no, no, no—”

  I grabbed her arms, gave her a firm shake to make her look at me.

  “This address, this is where we lived…” She looked sick. “When my mother was taken.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Revelations

  I put a hand on a gasping Emily’s waist to usher her to my room. I had a feeling no one from the Division needed to hear our conversation. We were no more than through the door when she turned on me.