by Bryn Donovan
“All couples have bad fights. I’m scared my animals will hurt him. Aren’t you worried about that, too?”
“A little,” she admitted. “But you’ve been doing well around him, and now you’ve learned how to pull back an attack. And obviously he trusts you.”
“He doesn’t worry enough about getting hurt,” Cassie said, thinking of all of his scars.
Val laughed. “That’s it exactly. I told him yesterday he doesn’t have his guard up, but he has to remember everybody else does.”
Cassie was lucky to be able to talk to someone who knew him so well. “Can I ask you a few more things about him?”
“You can ask. I’ll see if I can answer.”
“Jonathan told me Michael was his parents’ favorite. Is that true?” This had troubled Cassie from the time he’d said it, and it bothered her even more now that he’d offered his love to her and she hadn’t returned the favor.
“I can talk to you about that. Friend to friend. Their father was much harder on Johnny, maybe because he was so much like him. Michael was cute and silly and charming, but even as a kid, Johnny was so serious.” Cassie could easily envision the child version of Jonathan, and it touched her heart. “If Michael got in trouble, their dad held Jonathan responsible, too, because he was older. He spanked them a lot when they were kids, and hard.”
Cassie recoiled. “What the hell?”
“Growing up, I was terrified of him. When they were older, he pushed them really hard in MMA. I do think he loves his sons, but…he could’ve done a lot better job. He still could. At Michael’s funeral, he wouldn’t tell Jonathan it wasn’t his fault.” Her eyes glistened. “When Michael was little, Jonathan was his hero. Then in Cairo, when they were teenagers, they would fight a lot. But by the time they were both here, the past couple of years, they were very close. They worked together so well. And now, it’s like a gaping hole in his emotional signature.”
Although Cassie hadn’t heard this term before, she ached at the description. “He doesn’t talk about it all the time. It’s easy for me to forget what he’s going through.”
“We miss Michael so much. I couldn’t work at all for a week. I kept drinking cup after cup of lavender and hawthorn tea—it’s supposed to help with grief—but it was like I was drinking sadness.” Tears welled in her eyes.
Cassie pressed her hand to her mouth. Val had grown up with Michael, so of course his death had hit her hard, too. “Val, I’m so sorry. He must’ve been like a brother to you.”
Val’s brow knitted. Instead of directly responding to this, she said, “I’m getting off the subject.”
“That’s all right.” Cassie patted her arm, and Val gave her a tremulous smile.
“I was so glad when I first felt the connection between you two. He deserves to be happy. So do you.”
Cassie ducked her head and looked down into her tea. It meant a lot that Jonathan’s closest friend approved of her.
“If you don’t think you can concentrate on training today, you could probably skip it just this once. You’ve come so far already.”
Cassie smiled. “No, that’s fine. We should do it.” If she really did want to be with Jonathan for a long time, she’d better get her power under total control.
The session was even more intense than before. Val Read her and plucked infuriating incidents from her past—fights with Rick, an unfair teacher, a childhood incident with a racist man at church. She chose people that Cassie couldn’t hurt now, since they were already dead. Val had asked about all of them in her psyche, although she covered her tracks behind her so Cassie couldn’t remember her being there.
Then Val asked her about them, one at a time, and she practiced not reacting. Cassie hadn’t thought of some of these things in years, and they stirred up fresh resentment that she had to immediately tamp down. Nonetheless, Val could sense her feelings, so she could gauge her control.
As Cassie left the office, a girl of maybe sixteen waited outside the door. She told Cassie, “Capitán Renaud wants to see you.”
“Right now?” Cassie whipped around, looking to Val for explanation, but the Mage merely shrugged.
The girl didn’t dignify this with an answer. Of course, right now, Cassie realized. When Capitán gave an order, people obeyed. She accompanied the teen to Capitán’s office.
“Rios, come in,” he said when the girl knocked on the door. She opened it for Cassie, and he said, “You can go, Nara.”
The office looked as though he’d moved in just a few days ago. On the large, blocky steel desk, one inbox held a few folders, and a laptop computer sat closed. There was nothing else in the way of furniture, except for his black swivel chair. Guests like Cassie had to stand. It didn’t strike her as so comfortable for him, either. Didn’t he have any visitors he wanted to relax and chat with for a while? Jonathan had said he didn’t have a wife or a significant other.
“I want you to do something for me,” he said.
“What’s that?”
“Consider becoming one of my Knights.”
A thrill of excitement rushed through her—followed by pure fear. Her stupefied mind at least knew how much of an honor he’d bestowed upon her by asking, and she opened her mouth to say thank you, and then hesitated. Thank you might be taken for yes.
“You have a week to decide.” He made a gesture for her to leave the office.
That night, alone in her room, she considered how to tell Jonathan about Capitán Renaud’s offer. Or did he already know? She doubted it.
What would it even mean to join Manus Sancti? Would she have to live in this hole in New Mexico for all of her days?
Maybe not. There were dozens of cells around the world; one of them could take her. Could she live somewhere amazing, like Paris? If Paris really was amazing. How would she know? She’d hardly ever been anywhere. She only spoke English, and that would make her a lone hick in an organization full of polyglots. Probably, they’d keep her in the States. How often would she see her family?
Would she go on missions to fight poltergeists, demons, and witches who truly were evil? Maybe she’d learn to fight, like Jonathan and Gabi. But no, wasn’t it too late for her to learn how? If Capitán hadn’t taken her so much by surprise, she would’ve asked more questions, about a hundred more, while she had the chance.
Why had he asked her to be a Knight and not a Mage? She had magic. But Val had said she didn’t have any of the normal Mage gifts. Sometimes people with a little extra power still became Knights. Jonathan, for instance.
She didn’t know martial arts, but she could shoot things, and she could learn to send a jaguar or bear after somebody’s ass anytime she wanted to. That second thing, of course, was why he wanted her.
After being rejected by both a husband and a company that were not, by anyone’s standards, all that great, being invited to join a secret society full of geniuses, psychics, and super soldiers was an ego boost about the height of Mount Everest. One thought flitted through her mind again and again: I’ve been waiting my whole life for this.
But Jesus, wouldn’t she get herself killed?
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Alone in his room that evening, Jonathan watched television without really following it. He’d told her he loved her, and she didn’t feel the same way. He’d honestly believed that she did, or he wouldn’t have said anything. Part of him was still sure of it. So why couldn’t she say it?
When he’d talked to Val yesterday, he hadn’t told her specifically what had happened, but he’d told her his feelings were stronger than Cassie’s. She’d said that he needed to give it time, which was exactly what he hadn’t done so far, but he didn’t know how much time he had with Cassie.
His phone rang, and he looked at the screen. Cassie. What could he say? He’d even told her he’d betray his own vows for her, if necessary, and he wasn’t going to walk it back.
The phone continued ringing, and he finally answered. “Hey, what’s up.”
“Um…do y
ou want to come by?”
He paused. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea, but he wanted her like an alcoholic wanted a drink.
“Jonathan?” Her voice was uncertain.
“I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
Almost as soon as he knocked, she opened the door wearing a tank top and pajama pants.
“Hey,” he said, and she gestured for him to come inside.
As the door slipped closed behind him, she said, “Thanks for coming.”
He put his hands on her hips and drew her closer.
“I thought you might be mad,” she half whispered.
“I know I don’t have the right to be.”
She peered up at him. “That’s not the same as not being mad.”
“It’s close enough.” Her warmth and the sound of her voice filled him with longing, body and soul. He sighed. “Honestly, I didn’t come here to talk.”
She looked as though she was about to object, but then she said, “Okay. Talking later.” Standing on her tiptoes, she offered her mouth to his. He claimed it fiercely. The passion and the connection of their bodies spoke for itself, reassuring Jonathan that he meant a lot to her, even if it wasn’t yet as much as he’d hoped. He could live with that.
“Hey.” Late at night, she shook his shoulder, waking him up. “There is something I need to talk to you about.”
He opened his eyes and half sat up. “What?” Now, maybe, they’d discuss what hung between them. Hope kindled inside him. She might return his confession of love.
“Capitán Renaud wants me to join Manus Sancti.”
Maybe he was hearing her wrong. He wasn’t awake yet. “What do you mean, ‘join’?”
“He wants me to become a Knight.”
She’s going to stay.
The flame of joy extinguished, stomped out by anger. No, no, no. This wasn’t how he wanted to keep her here. The thought of her—her spirit, her precious body—undergoing the harsh initiation and training, of rushing into harm’s way at every turn, infuriated him. It was sacrilege.
“What,” she said.
Christos. All he’d wanted from the time he’d realized she was an innocent woman with a beautiful soul was to keep her safe. How could Capitán Renaud ask this? The answer that came to mind filled him with disgust. “They really want that codex.” He got up and began to pull on his underwear and jeans. Where was he even going? To Capitán’s quarters, at this hour, to demand an explanation?
“They want me. They can have the codex either way—buy it, steal it and wipe my memory, whatever. It’s me they want.”
He zipped his fly. “You can’t. It’s insane. You’ll get yourself killed.”
“Not necessarily—”
“You know what happened to my brother.” He flashed back to the image of Michael detonating into dust right in front of his eyes. If something like that happened to Cassie…
“It doesn’t happen to everyone. You’re still alive.”
She could’ve sounded a little less flippant about his brother’s death. And she was naïve—brutally so. “Don’t you get it? Even trained warriors get killed. All the time.” He’d lost so much already—his brother, his mom. Was it too much to ask that one thing he loved in life wasn’t in danger of exploding in his face? “You can’t do this kind of work. You have no chance!”
She put her head down on her knees. What was she doing? Calming herself down because she was angry. Why should she be, though, when he hadn’t said anything wrong or even untrue? He sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled on a boot.
She raised her head. “You don’t think I’m a bit tough.”
“I think you’re an idiot for even considering this.”
“What?”
“You’re being used,” he growled. “The codex magic is a weapon. Capitán wants to try it out. You’re not some special chosen one. You just happen to be here.”
“What does that even mean?”
He pulled the bootlaces too hard and broke one. Fine. “There are thousands of people with your same ancestry. He uses what’s in front of him. We all do.” He leaned closer. “Tell me you’re not considering this.”
She said right into his face, “I’m considering it.”
He banged his fist on the bedside table, making her jump.
She stood up at the same time he did. “No, you do not get to slam things. You’re a big guy; it’s not fair!”
He turned away from her, raising his hands in the air. She was right, but he still wanted to smash something.
“I thought you’d be happy I was staying.” Her voice was filled with bitterness.
His back was still to her and he set his hands on top of his head. “Christos,” he muttered, disgusted with himself. If his ill-timed declaration helped encourage her to do something stupid, he wasn’t going to be able to stand it.
“Go ahead and leave.”
From the sound of her voice, he’d be lucky if a whole family of venomous snakes bit him this time. He spun back around. “Why are you mad at me? I’m the one who doesn’t want you to get hurt!”
“You basically said I’d be a worthless coworker.” That was too ridiculous to merit a response. “If I don’t join, and they reverse the spell somehow, I’ll leave, and you’ll still be here. Is that what you want?”
“What I want is irrelevant!” He took a deep breath, his chest expanding, and let it out. “We’re going to let this go. For now. We’re both too mad.” Even as he said it, he was choking on his own temper. They were getting too close to her losing control. “Let’s not talk about it for a few days.”
“I don’t want to be away from you that long!”
“That’s not what I’m saying!” Belatedly, he recognized that what she’d said was actually sweet, even if she sounded pissed as hell. He stabbed at the inside corners of his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “Look. I’ll see you tomorrow morning. And we won’t talk about this.” Or about his being in love with her. God only knew what they would discuss.
“Fine,” she snapped.
He cursed under his breath and left.
“You shouldn’t call me an idiot,” Cassie told Jonathan the next morning, once they were both sitting down with their breakfasts at the cantina.
He stabbed a piece of chorizo with his fork. “I didn’t. I said you were considering something idiotic.”
“That’s not what you said.” Even as she pressed the point, her heart sank. She’d had this kind of conversation with Rick before.
“I thought we weren’t going to talk about this.” He stuffed a large bite into his mouth.
“We’re not talking about…that. We’re talking about how we fight. I think we should have ground rules.”
He met her eyes. “I won’t call you an idiot.” Well, that was more than she’d ever gotten from Rick. An “I’m sorry” would’ve been nice, but clearly, Jonathan was still agitated as hell.
“Morning.” She and Jonathan both looked up to see Gabi. “Am I interrupting?”
“No,” Cassie said quickly, relieved for the interruption, at the same time that Jonathan said, “Join us.”
Gabi said she was on her way to the gym after breakfast and teased Jonathan about never going anymore now that he was hanging out with Cassie all the time. Jonathan didn’t seem to think it was funny and pointed out that he was just now healing up. He said he’d train with her that morning.
“I’ll come along,” Cassie said. “I want to see the gym.” She did have one set of workout clothes in the bag that had been packed for her. He still owed her an apology, and she probably wasn’t going to get it if she holed up by herself in her room.
They both got changed in their own quarters and met up at the elevator bank. Before the elevator arrived, Cassie heard a familiar “Salaam.” She turned to see Lucia approaching them. “Cassie. Capitán Renaud told me to talk to you about the history of Manus Sancti.”
Jonathan stiffened. Oh, God. Cassie wasn’t up for any more fighting. He said, “She do
esn’t need to hear any more.”
“Excuse me,” Cassie said. Lucia gave Jonathan a sympathetic look. “You know you don’t get a vote here.”
Jonathan said, “Talk to her later. We’re going to the gym, and I’m meeting Gabi.” Lucia raised an eyebrow. He added, “Cassie wants to see the gym. And I haven’t trained in more than a week.”
“Yes, you’ve really let yourself go,” Lucia deadpanned. “It has to be now. I’m leaving for Italy in two hours. I’ll send you my codes and itinerary.” Jonathan scowled. He could hardly argue with this, since Capitán had made him Lucia’s contact. “I’ll come with you,” she said to Cassie. “I can talk anywhere.”
The gym took up an entire floor, with a running track around the border, a rough and uneven imitation of a rocky terrain. Several people ran on treadmills through holographic environments. One man loped in a jungle and ducked as a three-dimensional graphic of a knife whizzed toward his head. The woman on the machine next to him alternately walked and sprinted down the streets and alleys of a European city, dodging traffic.
Jonathan grumbled, “I could tell her all about Manus Sancti myself.”
“History is the realm of the Scholars,” Lucia replied, speaking more to Cassie than to him.
In practice rings, people fought one another, punching and kicking, but not inflicting serious damage. One man and woman dueled with big sticks. While Cassie watched, another stick flew from the floor straight at the woman’s head.
Cassie gasped. Before the woman got brained, it stopped mid-air and then twirled toward the other guy, who used the stick in both of his hands to bat it to the floor.
Her jaw dropped. “What the hell did I just see?”
Lucia grinned. “Telekinesis.”
“No fucking way.” Cassie whirled to face Jonathan. “Can you do that?”
He made a wry face. “I wish. Samir and Freya are the only ones on the planet, as far as we know.”
The two warriors had noticed them watching. The guy’s face broke into a huge smile and as he strode over to them, Cassie recognized him as Lucia’s fiancé from the photos in the office. He reached Lucia and pulled her in for a quick kiss. “What brings you to the gym?”
