Visci (Soul Cavern Series Book 2)

by Venessa Giunta

  Jorge met Helen’s gaze before he replied. “Someone is blocking the investigation.”

  “Blocking?”

  “The Visci Council has tight control over police departments in their various areas as well as other aspects of the government,” Helen said. “Not just the Council, of course, but individuals too. Powerful Visci, both fulls and hybrids. Emilia Laos was the most powerful here in Atlanta, but she’s dead now. So there is something of a vacuum at the moment.”

  “But there is still someone in control at the PD. Because Helen’s report was buried,” Jorge said. “And she can’t push it. Even though she’s a full, it will draw suspicion.”

  Jenny looked between them. The initial excitement of meeting people of her kind had faded, and the mention of Emilia Laos reminded her of the slaughter of her father. It made her somber. “If you’re a full blood, why are you helping hybrids?”

  Helen laughed, and it was full-throated, though quiet. “Not all fulls hate hybrids. I’d argue that most of us don’t.” Her face became serious. “I want things to go back to normal. Fulls and hybrids have worked together for ages, millennia. We should continue to do that.”

  This felt so much bigger than Jenny had thought. “So who could be blocking the investigation?”

  “We’re not sure,” Helen said.

  “That’s why we’re here,” Jorge added. “We’d like you to talk to your mom.”

  Jenny sat there for a long moment. She probably should have expected this, but she hadn’t. They came to her because of her mom. Do they know Mom is royalty? Of course they knew. Why else would they ask? Jenny chided herself for thinking them approaching had anything to do with her. “I doubt she can help. She hasn’t been involved with the Visci in a long time.”

  Helen gave a little shake of her head, making her braids wave. “She’s the leader of Atlanta. At least, right now.” Helen kept on, but Jenny barely registered what she said.

  What? She waved a hand back and forth to get the other woman to stop. Jenny needed her to stop.

  She did. Finally.

  “What do you mean ‘the leader of Atlanta’?”

  That exchange of glances again between her and Jorge was getting really old.

  “She didn’t tell you?” Jorge asked.

  No, she didn’t tell me, Jenny thought. But she didn’t say it out loud. She couldn’t trust her voice. After all of their talking, after they’d both promised honesty, her mom was still lying.

  Jorge looked sympathetic. When he spoke, compassion laced his words. “Last night, at the Council meeting. They asked her to step in to rule Atlanta until someone new is chosen by ballot.”

  Jenny sat back in the leather chair, her cup between her legs, and looked at the ceiling. The background buzz of the coffee shop seemed loud in her ears. “So much for one-hundred-percent honesty,” she said under her breath. They could hear her. She didn’t care.

  “I’m sorry,” Jorge said. “I assumed you knew.”

  Jenny nodded. “I should have. She should have told me.”

  “She should have,” Helen said.

  Jenny put away the hurt and brought her gaze back to her two new friends. Were they her friends? She wasn’t sure yet. She hoped so though.

  Jorge’s hand closed the distance between them, and his fingertips brushed the edge of her sleeve. He withdrew. “Are you all right?”

  Was she? This was all a hot mess. “What do you want me to ask her?”

  “Well,” Helen said, “the bigger threat is to hybrids, since they’re disappearing and dying at a very high rate. Since she has you, a hybrid, she won’t be on the side of the fulls who want to kill them—if it is truly fulls killing them. We’re hoping she might want to help stop whatever it is that’s going on.”

  “We don’t believe the hybrids coming up dead is this ‘civil war.’ But others do,” Jorge said, his words coming fast. “There’s something else going on.”

  “Yes, you said. What, exactly?” Jenny asked.

  Helen said, “We think the disappearances and deaths of the fulls are related to the deaths of the hybrids. But we’re unsure how they’re connected. That’s what we’re hoping your mom can help find out.”

  “But she has to be careful,” Jorge added. “If whoever’s doing whatever they’re doing finds out, she could be in trouble.”

  “They would go after my mom?”

  “Or you, more likely,” Jorge said, all matter-of-fact.

  Jenny blanched. She thought of her dad’s murder and knew he was right.

  “Jorge.” Helen frowned at him.

  “It needed to be said.”

  Helen took over, shaking her head. “If she can find out who is controlling the police, that would be of an indirect help. But the deaths and disappearances are the most important. The human police won’t be able to do anything about that, anyway.”

  All the excitement from when she’d first met Jorge and Helen had completely drained from her at this point. She wasn’t even inclined to ask real questions anymore. That numbness that had come and gone since the funeral rushed back. She welcomed it.

  “All right. I’ll see if she knows anything. Or can find anything out.” If her mom told her the truth, that was. Probably an iffy prospect, as things seemed to be going. Weariness stole over her.

  Jorge gave her a concerned smile. “Great. Umm. If you want to give me your phone, I’ll put my number in, and you can call me when you hear. Or text. Text is okay too.” He wrinkled his nose a little bit, and his cheeks darkened.

  Helen chuckled. Jorge glared at her.

  Jenny didn’t want to deal with Jorge’s nervousness and all this mess too. It was all too much. She fished out her phone, opened the screen to New Contact and handed it to him.

  Helen watched her the entire time. Finally, she said, “You’ll tell your mom to be careful? Especially when she’s in there.” She took a long draw from her small coffee cup, obviously finishing it.

  Huh? “In where?”

  Jorge handed her phone back. “In the compound. It’s where Emilia Laos used to live. It’s also where most of the business happens.”

  That name. The woman who kidnapped Mecca. Who killed her dad. “My mom went there?” Of course she did. If she was asked to be the leader of Atlanta, it was because she was there when they were talking about it. How come she was getting all this information from strangers? So much for numbness. The anger roared back.

  “Yes,” Jorge said.

  “The Council was last night,” Helen said. “They were all in town for a big party, the Maze Gathering. And then Emilia was killed. They all stayed, and your mom crashed their meeting when they were trying to figure out what to do. They asked her to step up.”

  Jenny didn’t say anything, just took in the information, shifting her phone from one hand to the other. So that was where her mom had disappeared to. She’d said she was going to meet Claude, but she went to this Council meeting instead.

  The muted mix of anger and disappointment simmered barely beneath her surface. It suddenly struck her that they had a level of detail she wouldn’t have expected. She looked up at them. “That seems like a lot of information to have from a super-secret group.”

  “We had a friend in the room last night,” Jorge said.

  “A friend?”

  He nodded, but remained quiet.

  Jenny remembered her mom telling her about how dangerous Visci machinations were. “If you have someone on the Council, why do you need my mom?”

  “We have someone in the room,” Jorge said quickly. “We didn’t say on the Council. But, either way, your mom can get a lot more information about what’s going on in Atlanta than anyone else right now. As the leader, she can compel people to tell her things, under threat of exile. Or execution.”

  Jenny and Helen both stared at him.

  He raised his hands. “What? It’s true. She can have them executed.”

  Helen let out an exasperated sigh. “Yes, she can.”

  Jo
rge looked at Jenny. “But I can’t see her doing that.”

  “What do you know about my mom?” Jenny couldn’t see her mom doing it either, but didn’t know why Jorge thought so too.

  “Umm. Well, I’ve never met her or anything.” That flustered tone had crept back into his voice. She had no idea what to make of it. “But anyone who completely leaves our craziness to love her husband and raise her kid has got to be pretty fantastic.” He grinned.

  How was she supposed to respond to that? Was he fanboying? Jenny supposed he might be right, regardless. But she couldn’t bring herself to be as enthusiastic as he was. That now-familiar emptiness, numbness had seeped and settled into her soul again. “I’m surprised you’ve heard of her.”

  “Oh yeah! Your mom is sort of a legend. Defying her dad and leaving the line of succession to be with the man she loved. Total chick flick material.”

  “God, Jorge,” Helen said, setting her empty cup into the table.

  Jorge shaded crimson. “Sorry.” He met Jenny’s gaze. “Really. Sorry. That must have been creepy.”

  Jenny had to laugh. It wasn’t that it was funny so much as it was totally bizarre. It pushed back some of the anesthetized feeling in her heart. The entire conversation had been ridiculous, but gushing about her mom was what he apologized for. “No. You’re fine. I guess I’m surprised anyone knows who she is. She’s just…my mom. You know?”

  Jorge nodded.

  “Wait.” Jenny thought a moment. Her mom had told her about walking away. But…had she been supposed to rule herself? Personally? “She left the line of succession? I thought people had wanted to get rid of the royals.”

  “Yes and no,” Helen said. “There had been some talk here and there about setting up a more democratic leadership, but that would have happened much, much later if your mom hadn’t stepped down. She refused to ascend when her father wanted to retire. It only made the move to Councils easier.”

  Another lie. Jenny hung her head and took a quiet breath. The emotional roller coaster was getting really, really old.

  There should have been some sort of pride or happiness—something—that her mom had given up everything for her family. But she couldn’t keep from feeling betrayed by all the unnecessary lies. Even when Jenny had learned the truth about the Visci society out there, her mom still lied about things.

  “Are you okay?” Jorge asked. He seemed so concerned about her being okay. He’d asked three or four times since they’d sat. She didn’t know what to think of that. Or even how to answer it.

  Jenny sat forward. “Yeah.” She slid her phone into the pocket of her leather jacket. “Is there anything else?” She needed to be out of this coffee shop and away from everyone. Now.

  “Umm. No. No. Nothing else,” he said.

  Jenny stood. “Great. I’ll let you know what I find out.”

  Jorge scrambled to his feet. Helen watched them both and then also stood.

  “Thanks, Jennifer,” Jorge said.

  “Jenny,” she said, absently. In her head, she was already outside and in her car.

  “Jenny,” Jorge said, looking pleased.

  She walked past both of them and pushed her way out the door.

  Chapter Four: Mecca

  Will settled into the chair beside Mecca’s bed. “Did you have a nice visit?”

  Warm fuzzies still fluttered through Mecca’s heart. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed Jenny until today. She felt more grounded than she had in a long time. “Yes. It’s so good to see her. I’m glad she’s back. I hate why she’s back, but I’m glad she’s back.”

  “Why is she back?” His clear green eyes didn’t show any sarcasm or deception.

  He really didn’t know.

  Of course he doesn’t know. God, I’m getting paranoid. “Her dad. Emilia murdered him.”

  He let out a long sigh and did a slow blink. “I’m unsure what to say.”

  “I don’t guess there’s anything to say. His funeral was Saturday.” And Jenny had been there all by herself. She punched the bed beside her thigh. “I hate being stuck here. I couldn’t be there with her on the hardest day of her life.” Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked furiously to push them back. She was done crying.

  They sat in silence for a long time with only the hum of Mecca’s IV.

  “She knows about your Gift?” Will asked.

  Mecca startled. Had he lost his mind? “No.”

  His eyes widened a fraction. “She’s your best friend, isn’t she?”

  Mecca didn’t even have words. “How would I have ever told her? What a dumb question.”

  Will chuckled, which raised the anger that seemed to always be simmering below the surface.

  “That’s funny?” Her voice climbed half an octave higher than normal. It sounded like a screech.

  He raised his hands in defeat, the smile still playing on his lips. “Hey, it was only a question. I thought women shared all their secrets with their best friends. I was just asking.”

  Mecca huffed and shook her head. “You know nothing, Jon Snow.” She ignored his quizzical stare.

  Guilt still ate at her. She’d wanted to tell Jenny so many times over the years. She never understood how to do it. It didn’t help that her dad always harped on and on about how they had to keep their family Gift a secret because… Well, he never gave a reason, but telling was always a Bad Idea.

  She grumbled under her breath, and Will hardly kept in a laugh.

  They sat there in silence, Mecca trying to get a handle on her anger. It wasn’t working. “Why are you here?”

  Will startled. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, you’re finally free of the Visci. Why are you staying here?” She motioned around the room. “The whole world is out there waiting. You can explore everything.”

  “Well, I can’t, honestly,” he said, his voice soft. “I will need Visci blood soon, or I’ll die.” He barely paused to let that sink in. Mecca had totally forgotten. Will had been Emilia’s… Mecca had no idea what to call him. But he’d outlived his own life span with the help of her blood. If he didn’t get more, his body would catch up to his age. “But I stay here”—he waved his hand as she had—“because I want to. I want to make sure you’re okay. That you’re safe.”

  “You think someone might come for me?” That had never occurred to her.

  “No, not really.” His sea-green eyes twinkled as he flashed his teeth. “I meant safe in a general way.” He reached over and squeezed her hand quickly and released it.

  Did that mean something? She searched his eyes. “But why? Do you feel guilty?”

  The smile faded, and Mecca knew she’d hit the mark.

  A knock came from the hall. They both looked over.

  “No,” Mecca said as soon as her dad cleared the doorway. A yucky mix of anger, betrayal, and sadness welled in her. “I don’t want to see you.”

  He lowered his hands, the flowers he’d held now pointing at the floor. His pained expression stabbed at her heart. She didn’t understand how she could still love at the same time she hated him.

  She’d always been a daddy’s girl. Always. But she couldn’t deal with him. Not right now. Maybe not ever.

  “Mecca, please—”

  “No. Get out.”

  “I have to tell y—”

  “Get out!” she yelled, pulling herself up as much as her cast would allow. A lightning rod of pain shot down her leg, and she gasped.

  Will stood and crossed to her dad in four long strides. “Come on, David.”

  “I need to—”

  Mecca grabbed the plastic cup on the bed tray beside her and heaved it across the room. Water sloshed as it went head over feet. “Get out!”

  Will turned her dad and hustled him through the door.

  Mecca flopped onto the pillows, her heart hammering and her belly roiling. She was going to be sick. She closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing and tried not to think about vomiting down the front of her stunning hos
pital gown.

  Breathe in. Breathe out. In. Out.

  It was a mantra that she’d always thought was stupid. But, man, it had helped her over the last week.

  “Are you all right?” Will asked a few moments later.

  She took one more deliberate breath, feeling the air move into her nose and into her lungs. Her chest expanded, and then she released, letting it whoosh softly out of her mouth. The queasiness receded. Thank goodness. She opened her eyes. Will stood beside her bed, the now-cracked cup in his hand.

  “You were gone for a long time,” she said.

  He hadn’t. Not really. Not even two minutes. She just felt belligerent.

  “He wanted me to ask you to call or text him soon. He wants to share some information with you.”

  She snorted and rolled her eyes.

  “He said it’s very important.”

  “Thanks for taking the message.”

  “I think you—”

  “You know,” she said, leaning against the pillows and pulling up the thin blanket, “I’m tired. I’m going to sleep for a while.”

  “Certainly,” he replied, not a trace of annoyance at her rude dismissal. “Shall I come back later?”

  She kept his gaze for a bit longer than necessary, wishing that she could explain to him why she was being so…bitchy. But there was no way to explain the shame of her dad’s past. “Yes. I would like it if you would.” She could at least be honest about that.

  The smile he gave her was genuine and compassionate. “I will see you later, then.” He turned to leave but spun back. “And I’ll tell them you need a new…” He held up the fractured cup with a wink.

  She laughed. It felt good to laugh. For once.

  Chapter Five: Jenny

  She was glad that Mecca’s hospital had been down in Stone Mountain, because it meant she had at least a thirty-minute drive before she got home. She needed that time to think, mulling over what she’d learned from Jorge and Helen. The things they shared with her were very different from what she’d learned from her mom.