Shifting Fate

by Melissa Wright

  Brendan. They’d not repeated Morgan’s story, not mentioned that he was the person responsible for his escape, but I could tell by the way Logan’s fist tightened against his leg that they knew.

  Emily stood, handing me the folded paper of our mother’s letter, and said, “Logan saved it. And there’s something else, Brianna.” I glanced up at her. “The other prophet, the one of the Seven Lines, she was a plant.”

  A shadow.

  I stared at her, the gravity of her words sinking in, and knew that she, that Aern and Logan, understood as well as I did what it meant. There were no prophets within the Seven Lines. She’d been a shade, a shadow. One of us.

  And they’d been hiding shadows amongst the Seven for as long as the prophecy existed.

  When I came out of the shower, Logan was still there, watching my door. While Emily was in the room, he’d splashed his face, changed his shirt, but he hadn’t moved in the half hour since she’d gone.

  “Logan,” I said, crossing to sit on the small sofa beside him, “you need rest. You need a shower.”

  He reached for my hand, turning it so that his finger rested over the base of my tattoo, just below the line of damage left by the ties, and said. “No.”

  I tilted my head to see his face, his dark amber eyes, and his square jaw. “No?”

  His gaze met mine, unflinching, and he said, “I’m not leaving you, Brianna. Not again.”

  My heart clenched as the moment changed. They weren’t just words, they were a confession, a promise. And not from my protector. From Logan.

  His hand slid to my waist, pulling me onto his lap, and his words returned to my mind full force. Is it now? I hadn’t recognized it, distracted as I was, but the scene fell into place. This was my Logan, this was the vision. His thumb skimmed over the skin of my waist, but when it passed near my scar, it didn’t bring that unease it had before. This time, the response was purely physical. I shivered, whispering his name.

  He stared into my eyes, and I wanted him to kiss me.

  Is it now? He had asked so many times, my gaze fell to his lips, waiting. I had his answer, but he didn’t ask. When he finally decided, wanted it the way that I wanted it, he simply took my mouth with his, pressing me against him as my heart raced. And it wasn’t what I’d seen, wasn’t what I’d expected. Every sensation I was missing in the vision was magnified in the soft warmth of his lips, the way his hands felt against the bare skin of my waist. This was not the kiss that had been repeated since I was a girl. That vision could not encompass the fluttering ache in my chest, his scent, the very taste of him as his lips moved softly over mine.

  Slowly, I drew away, staring into his eyes, and Logan wiped a tear from my cheek with the pad of his thumb. I understood something then, something that I’d not allowed myself much time to focus on, because the visions only showed me pivotal moments. This vision, this kiss, was a moment that would decide me forever.

  I was his.

  I slid a hand to his chest, just to touch him, and felt a vague pang of disappointment that we’d not created a physical bond, not in the way that Emily and Aern had. I wondered if Logan felt that way, too, as I remembered his words, the questions he’d had about their connection. I leaned forward, brushing my lips to his once more, and the words aligned in my mind. The heir to the dragon’s name will rule with their union.

  “Aern,” I breathed, and Logan’s eyes snapped open at the sound of another man’s name between us.

  The confusion on his face was so adorable, the utter relief at finally having the key such a reprieve, that I barked out a laugh.

  Clearly Logan didn’t think it was funny.

  “Aern,” I said. “It’s the bond, Logan. That’s the reason I can’t find the connection in Emily. Because it’s not there.” I leaned back, shaking my head. “It’s there, but … just not where I was looking for it. It’s in her bond, her link with Aern.”

  Logan looked torn, unsure what to make of this abrupt change in direction, how to deal with it.

  “That’s why we don’t have it,” I whispered, fingers curling into his shirt, “because I’m Emily’s opposite, Logan. I can repair the connections, she destroys them.”

  He straightened, keeping me settled on his lap, and said, “You’ve got it.”

  “Yes,” I said, leaning forward to kiss him again. “Yes, Logan. I think that’s it.”

  I jumped to my feet. “Come on, let’s go find Emily.” He stood, hand still in mine, starting for the door. “Wait,” I said, jerking him to a stop.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  I glanced down at my bare feet in the carpet. “Shoes first. I’m not going anywhere without shoes.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Threads

  We found Emily with Aern in their room. They’d kept the suites Aern had used before he’d left Council, a modest set of rooms done up in earth tones with a window facing the south lawn. Aern had just woken, and he stood behind Emily, hands on the back of her chair, not a sign of injury visible anywhere.

  “So, what,” she asked, “I’m just supposed to find Morgan and zap his power away?”

  “I don’t know,” I answered truthfully. “I only know what will happen if you don’t.”

  Aern leaned forward. “And how exactly do we know if it’s successful?”

  “I hadn’t gotten that far,” I said. “I guess we’ll have to try it on one of your men.” I shook my head. “It’s the only thing I’ve got, Aern, and it feels right.”

  Emily shrugged a shoulder. “Okay, then I guess we should get started.” She held her hands out to me, palms up.

  “I don’t think that will work,” I explained. “I think I need you to touch Aern.” Her hands drew back; she glanced at the table, then me. “I’m not going to do anything to the bond, Emily. I just need to see it, to understand how our connections work, and I think it will be easier if you’re in contact with him.”

  Aern pulled out the chair beside her, sitting across from me at the table, and took Emily’s hand. She slid her free hand over to mine. “This is very séance-y.”

  “Well,” I said, “if this works, the whole thing’s about to get a lot freakier than this.” I closed my eyes, taking a long, deep breath as I searched out the connections that were so different than the ones I’d found in the others. I’d felt them in Emily before, but I’d believed them to be unique ties to Aern, nothing more than her bond, the prophesied union. But I felt that push, and I knew they were more. They were a representation of our power. It wasn’t some mystical force that tied Emily to Aern. It was that she’d decided, that she’d chosen to link herself with him, and he’d accepted it. It was like the pulse, but stronger, more solid. Unbroken.

  It was her power. And if I could free it, she’d be able to tear a man down just as easily.

  Aern cleared his throat. “Should I feel that?”

  Emily’s hand twitched, but she didn’t pull away. “What?”

  My eyes stayed closed, testing the strands, comparing the threads to my own.

  “That,” Aern said.

  “I don’t feel anything,” Emily countered. “Brianna, why don’t I feel anything?”

  “Because you,” I said evenly, “aren’t of the Seven.” I opened my eyes. “And you’re not simply human. You’re a shade.”

  Her gaze flicked to Aern, and I could tell she was checking the bond.

  “I didn’t do anything,” I told her. “I couldn’t if I wanted to.”

  Her eyes narrowed on me. “And why would you want to?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t, Emily. I’m just saying.” I wet my lips, glancing at Logan instead of remembering the vision, remembering Aern and the fire. “Your bond protects him, I think. Makes it so another shade couldn’t reach his power unless you allowed it.”

  “Another shade?” Aern asked. “Brianna—”

  I held up a hand. “In theory, I mean. All of this is a guess. I’m sorry, it’s not like I have a manual or anything. This is all new
to me.”

  Logan placed a hand on my shoulder, prepared to say something, but my body convulsed as a vision slammed into me.

  Morgan, standing in front of a group of men, hand outstretched as he turned them with his sway. The dark-haired man, the one that looked like a model out of GQ, stood beside him, his mouth twisted at the corner in a knowing smirk. I had the strangest feeling he knew I could see him.

  “No,” Emily screamed, “this isn’t like her. She doesn’t just fall down and convulse, Aern. You’ve seen her. We have to wake her up. Now.”

  I’d apparently missed a line or two of their argument. I tried to move my hand, to let her know I was okay, but it wouldn’t cooperate, I couldn’t quite break free.

  “Brianna,” Logan said from my other side. “Brianna, you need to come back to us. Can you feel my hand?”

  I did then, feel his touch in my hand, but I couldn’t make out what had happened. “I’m all right,” I mumbled. “I just need to sleep.”

  “Pick her up,” Aern said. “We need to take her some place safe until—”

  “No,” I said, opening my eyes as Logan lifted me from the floor. “No, I’m all right.”

  Emily looked sick, her hands trembling as she reached up to brush the hair away from my face. “It’s close,” she said.

  I nodded. “And Morgan. He’s turning more men.”

  Aern cursed.

  Logan stared down at me. “How long do we have?”

  “I don’t know,” I answered. “This isn’t … It’s shifting, every single time I make a decision, it’s wrong.”

  “Not you,” Aern said. “Morgan.”

  I closed my eyes for a long moment, seeing the face of my sister, broken and still, the fire coursing through the city, the lifeless bodies vanished in ash. “Yes. Morgan.”

  “Then we’ll stop him,” Emily said. “Whatever it takes, we’ll stop him.”

  I had worked with Emily as long as I could, but when exhaustion took over I’d fallen asleep on the couch, the muted conversation of the others and their tactics for securing the property seeping into my consciousness as I faded in and out. Morgan had walked right over them the last time, turning their guards with a look, and he was stronger now.

  I woke on the soft white sheets of a bed in the suite Emily had said was mine, Logan sitting on a chair in front of me. “You’re tired,” I murmured, head buried in a too-soft pillow.

  One side of his mouth came up in a smile and I reached over, wiggling my fingers for his hand. He took it and I pulled, sliding over to give him room beside me. “This is completely against Council policy,” he said in a low voice as he slipped his arms around me.

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “Who did you have this problem with before?”

  He breathed a short laugh, squeezing me closer, and I tucked my head under his chin.

  “What time is it?” I asked.

  “Late. I’m afraid you’ve slept all the way to bedtime, Brianna.”

  I liked the way my name sounded in his quiet voice. I hugged him closer. “Good. I’m not ready to get up yet.”

  A puff of air brushed the top of my head, and I smiled, pressing my cheek against his chest.

  When I woke again, it was morning. Logan was lying on his back, hands laced behind his head, staring at the ceiling. My face had been buried into his side, leg sprawled over his, one arm trapped beneath me while the other rested on his chest. I had to push up to look at him.

  He smiled.

  I dropped my face back to his chest, smoothing a hand over my hair and straightening the hem of my shirt. He pulled a hand free to rub my back. “Stop. I like you all mussed up.” I scrunched my nose at him and he added, “It’s adorable, really.”

  “Too far,” I told him. “I might have believed you otherwise.”

  He rolled to his side so he could face me. “I told you I’d never lie.”

  I bit down a smile. “You did.”

  “And you,” he said, “why don’t you tell me what you did to me?” At my confused expression, he clarified, “I don’t have a scratch on me, Brianna. I feel great, after just a few hours of sleep.”

  “Oh,” I answered sheepishly. “I know you said to save my strength, but I had to, Logan. I only did what I’ve done for the others, just enough to help you heal. To keep you safe.”

  “This isn’t like the others,” he reasoned. His free hand came up to tug the collar of his shirt lower. “I had fifteen stitches across my chest yesterday. There isn’t a mark left.”

  “You said you weren’t hurt,” I hissed.

  “I believe I said I was ‘fine’.” He stared at me. “You’re avoiding the issue. I’m healing as fast as Aern.”

  “That has nothing to do with me,” I said. “All I do is repair the connection, you, each of you, are using it under your own power. If you heal as fast as Aern, that’s because of your own strength, because of the blood of your line. It works just like the sway.”

  He was silent for a long moment, his eyes tracing the lines of my face, and I said, “But you don’t use your sway, do you?”

  His fingers trailed over my back, his words unapologetic. “There’s no need to.”

  I watched his face, ready to say more, but before I could there was a light click outside the bedroom door as someone walked into the sitting room. “Brianna?”

  “Just a minute,” I called to Emily. “I’ll be right there.”

  I crawled over Logan and he caught my hand, sitting up to face me where I stood by the bed. “More questions?” I asked.

  “Just one,” he whispered.

  I bit my lip, trying not to grin. “What?”

  His eyes fell to my mouth, then rose slowly to meet mine. “In our vision,” our vision, the one where we’d kissed, “what else do I do to you?”

  I blushed, cheeks heating at his words, his slow grin, and he pulled me to him, kissing me soft, slow, and deliberate.

  When he drew back, I brought my lips to his ear. “It’s all a surprise from here.” His hands tightened on my waist and I added, “Now get out before my sister thinks there’s something going on in here.”

  He chuckled, giving me one last squeeze before he let me go.

  I took a quick shower, throwing on jeans and a soft cotton shirt before joining the others. I was sitting on the edge of the sofa lacing up my boots when the vision came again, so my landing was softer, but the shock of it hit just as hard. “Brianna,” Emily called, but I didn’t see her face. I saw the dark-haired man, GQ, a pair of hands pressed against his bare chest as he screamed out in pain. It was only a blip, a brief flash of image, and I couldn’t understand what I was seeing. Or why.

  “What is it?” Emily said, and I opened my eyes to see her face, the one person who could save us.

  “I don’t know,” I whispered. “But we’re running out of time.”

  We were sitting on the couch, Logan perched on a chair beside us, when Aern came in. He didn’t look happy, and Logan met him at the desk across from us to go over the Council’s new Intel.

  “He’s got thirty more men posted here,” Aern explained, pointing at the documents now spread over the desk. “And Kara’s team reported a group of uniformed men here.”

  “Uniformed?” Logan asked.

  Aern nodded. “This isn’t like him. And he’s gathering too many men to be predictable.”

  “What are these?” Logan said as he pointed to another section of pages.

  “Fires.” Aern flipped through a stack of photos, laid out three or four. “Explosions here and here, straight fire there.”

  Fire. Aern and Emily, and fire. There was another push. I pulled my hand free of my sister’s, wiped the palm on my jeans. “This isn’t working. I need to try something else.” I returned my hand to hers as she listened, waiting for instruction. “When you connected with Aern, how did it feel to set the bond, what did you do to start it into place?”

  “I told you, I don’t know,” she said. “I didn’t do anything. It just f
elt right; it felt like we were linked. Secure.”

  “She said it was like lacing up sneakers,” Aern called over his shoulder. Emily narrowed her eyes at his back and he turned, winked at her.

  “How did you know it was the bond?” I asked.

  She stared at me. “Because of the prophecy.”

  “You expected it,” I said. “Do you think you could do it again, if I told you it would work?”

  “We’re already connected, Bri.”

  I shook my head. “Not Aern, try it with Logan.”

  The men stopped talking to look at us, the two of them and Emily frozen at my words. “I don’t think …” Emily started after a heavy silence.

  “There,” I said. “That tug right there, when you get protective of Aern.” A flash of indignation crossed her features and I felt it again. “Yes. There.”

  Without taking my eyes from her, I said, “Logan, that thing we’ve been working on, try it on Aern.”

  Emily’s eyes flicked from me to the men, back. There was nothing we’d been working on, and I didn’t know if Logan could guess my intention, but he moved. And it was enough to make Emily believe.

  It shifted again, the tiniest impression in her bonds. “There. I think I’ve got it.” I glanced at Logan, smiled.

  Emily leaned forward to whisper, “That was mean,” and I laughed.

  “Hush,” I said. “I need to concentrate.” I closed my eyes, feeling along the threads that had wavered, and then followed them, examining their connections and comparing them to my own. It didn’t make any sense, didn’t explain why Emily’s powers had only worked on the bond with Aern, why mine could already free the powers to heal for the others, the ability to shield on Wesley. “Wait,” I said. “Wait, wait, wait.”

  I opened my eyes, staring at the lines crossing my wrists, wounds overlapping the tattoos. And I had it. The connections I needed weren’t threads, they were a network, a spider web of contacts that had been disrupted, the way they’d been disrupted in the others. Bound and severed. Disconnected.