The Complete Chosen Trilogy (The Chosen #0)

by N. M. Santoski

  “Dr. Avis Castillo!”

  She took Jenkins’ place at the front of the dais, barely giving him enough time to step back.

  “I look forward to a happy, calm year,” she said to the students, her teeth gleaming in the light.

  “With Dr. Castillo stepping up into the Proctor role, we need a new teacher of History. Luckily, the granddaughter of our most famous historian has agreed to take her place—Claire Connor!”

  “She didn’t tell me!” Gia said, stricken, as Claire left her seat and joined the other teachers on the dais.

  “I don’t think she told anyone,” Pyrrhus said. A quick glance at their friends confirmed it—every single one was staring at Claire with their jaws gaping.

  “This has been my dream since I was a little girl,” Claire was saying to the new students, “and I’m more grateful than I can say to the Council for giving me the opportunity with my Rite of Passage so recently finished. I will do my best to make you proud.”

  Flushed from the applause, she stepped back behind Castillo and folded her hands demurely, avoiding Gia’s gaze.

  When the tediousness of the official dismissal was finally finished, Gia pushed through the crowd, desperate to reach her friend.

  Claire was helping to coax the excited mass of teenagers out into the front hall, keeping a careful eye out for any that were too young to be there.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Gia said, grasping her wrist and speaking directly into her ear.

  “No time! We were too busy dealing with Nolan’s situation.”

  “Please be careful—and be safe!”

  “I’ll be safer than you—I’ll be here!” she said with a quick smile over her shoulder as she nabbed a sixteen year old from the crowd and sent him back to his mother, scowling. “And I’ll keep my ears open.”

  “There won’t be baileys this year, so let me know how things are going,” she said, squeezing Claire’s hand as she saw Pyrrhus coming for her. “I have to go.”

  “Go, then!” she said, making a face and laughing. “Don’t wait on me—and be safe!”

  Claire watched Gia go with a sinking feeling—one she hated. She was one of those people whose gut instinct was almost always right, and her gut was churning. Before she could decipher what it meant or regain her equilibrium, a hand on her arm made her jump, cursing loudly.

  “Ms. Connor!” Lord Artifex said, glancing quickly from side to side as if appalled by her language. She blushed deeply and clapped a hand over her mouth.

  “My apologies, Councillor. You startled me.”

  “I wanted to make sure you have everything you need for the school year.”

  “Yes, sir. The Council has been very generous.”

  He motioned to someone else in the crowd, summoning them with an imperious gesture. “Dr. Graves has volunteered to be your mentor this year, as he was the newest member of the faculty and remembers well what it’s like to be a first time instructor.” Dr. Graves stopped short next to Lord Artifex, looking at her with a pleasantly neutral expression.

  “Please, call me Matthew,” he said, extending his hand for her to shake.

  “I’ll leave you two to help the students get settled in,” Lord Artifex said, already moving away from them.

  As soon as he left them, Matthew gave her a reassuring smile. “I know it’s strange, since I was your teacher only a month ago. It may take time, but I hope you’ll get used to being colleagues instead.”

  “Yes, Dr—I mean, Matthew,” she said, mentally cringing. He laughed out loud, throwing his head back as she blushed all the deeper.

  “Better. May I call you Claire?”

  “It would only be fair,” she responded with a shy smile, taking his proffered arm.

  “Let’s go make sure the natives are settling in. In the meantime, why don’t you tell me a bit more about yourself?”

  She took a deep breath and obliged, her nerves settling as she began to lay her life’s story at his feet.

  Across the room, Robert was halfway to the door when Avis called out, stopping him in his tracks.

  “A shame you aren’t able to be with us this year, Robert,” she said with a smile so saccharine it was painful to look at.

  “Yes, a shame. I need the year, however—this one has been very taxing.”

  “You were never strong to begin with, since Trevor died,” she simpered. “After that dreadful attack…”

  “You have what you want, Avis. You can stop gloating.”

  “Gloating?” she put a hand to her chest, eyes wide. “After all we were to each other, Robert, you think I would wound you like that?”

  “It was one night almost twenty-five years ago, and you’ve been bitter ever since, so… yes, I do. Your petty words can’t hurt me.”

  Faster than a striking snake, she shot her hand out and almost crushed his wrist in her grip. “How about some truth, then, Robert? You’ll never find that boy alive. The Council will get to him first. If he’s lucky, they’ll cut his head off. If he’s not, it will be a much more painful death…perhaps a public execution? Warrington’s been itching to end this once and for all. Your nephew is a lost cause.”

  He ripped his arm away from her, his wrist already starting to discolor. “You’re wrong. Let me tell you a bit of truth. If you warp these children’s minds, you’ll answer to me.” He bowed with just enough of an edge to make it mocking and stalked off as well as he could manage on one mangled leg and his pride.

  Warrington took advantage of Robert’s temporary distraction to sidle up to Mara unobserved. “Lady Aeron.”

  “Lord Artifex!” she said with a large and unconvincing smile. “What can I do for you?”

  “How can you stand it?” he asked. “Your own son, gone the way of his grandfather—the man who murdered your husband in cold blood.”

  She swallowed and attempted to keep her fury from showing on her face. “I believe Nolan can be redeemed. I want to bring him home, show him our ways.”

  “He’s too old, Mara. If we’d gotten to him ten years ago, or even five, we may have had a chance. He tried to murder one of our students, and only failed because he was chased off by my son and Angus Kinnaird. He’s dangerous. All we can do now is clean up and move on. Mara…” He moved to touch her, but she jerked her shoulder out of his reach. His face froze.

  “Don’t touch me, Michael Warrington,” she snapped. “I will bring my son home, and he will be the best Swordsmith the Council has ever seen.”

  “I wouldn’t count on it,” he snarled back, false sympathy gone as he turned on his heel and left her shaking in the middle of the room. Mara let him go without another word, too angry to try to smooth things over. The Warringtons and the Aerons had never been friends, and it certainly wasn’t going to start now, no matter how nice she was.

  Michael left the Atrium and went down to the cell where Samuel Tomen was still waiting. He opened the wall with a wave of his hand and closed himself in with the prisoner, who looked rather worse for the wear. Though he had been fed and cared for over the course of the year, Samuel had been trapped underground for months. It wasn’t a good look on a human.

  Michael stood in the center of the room and looked down at the shell of a man at his feet. “I have saved your life. You owe a debt to me. Don’t speak,” he said sternly when Samuel opened his mouth. “Just listen. I want you to watch the Village for me. If you see him passing through, if you hear a word about him, I want to know. Call this number. A woman will answer. Tell her what you know. She will answer with ‘Understood’ and hang up the phone. That is all you must do, and your life with your family will be undisturbed. Do you understand?”

  Samuel nodded once.

  “Good. When the people of the Village ask you why you’ve been gone so long, you will tell them the truth—you were all trapped by a man that answers to no one, and that we here at Caer Anglia do not claim him. Incite fear. Encourage skepticism. Make sure that any stranger that enters your borders is looked on with su
spicion. Do this, as well, and you will be amply rewarded—you and your family both.”

  Samuel nodded again, more eagerly this time.

  “Good. Follow me—I will take you to get cleaned up.”

  Less than an hour later, Samuel was in his wife’s arms and listening to his daughters clamor to be picked up.

  “But Sam! You look so ill! What’s happened? I was afraid—“ Alice bit her lip, but he understood. He shifted to her side, still keeping one arm around her, and let his youngest daughter jump onto his back while the oldest pouted.

  “I’ll tell you everything—and I think it’s something our neighbors need to hear, as well.”

  PART THE THIRD

  The Hunt

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Somewhere over Nevada, Leiani K’Oliu was reading the in-flight magazine for the tenth time. Or was it the eleventh? She’d lost count by now. Her husband was asleep in the chair next to her, his chin to his chest. She scowled in his direction, even though he couldn’t see her, and turned another page.

  “How many times are you going to reread that magazine?” Alan asked without opening his eyes.

  “How much longer until we land?” she retorted.

  “Would you like to talk, instead?”

  “Can we talk without fighting?”

  “We can if we try,” he said with a sigh.

  “Maybe we should wait until we’re in private,” she suggested.

  “As you wish.” He tucked his head back down, and she was alone again.

  The magazine was a good way for her to cover the depth of her thoughts. She and Alan were married, despite her best attempts to prevent it. Last night…

  She tilted her head forward to cover her flushed face. Any hope she had of Alan keeping their union in name only was dashed the moment he entered her room last night, closing the door behind him.

  He hadn’t left her much of a choice in it, either. It was quick, done without a word from either of them. Still, they were irrevocably married now. Their marriage could only be undone by death, and they were very young. She was facing upwards of fifty years with Alan, and their marriage was starting on the worst footing imaginable.

  She was lucky no one mentioned the origin of the pearl clip still holding her elaborate hairstyle up. It was a bit of a slap in the face to her husband, but she couldn’t resist the urge that morning. She took a piece of Nolan with her into her marriage.

  She ran her fingers over the clip one more time. She should throw it away and remove the temptation, but she couldn’t imagine doing so. She sighed and tucked the magazine into the pocket of the seat in front of her.

  They would have to work things out between them, somehow.

  Her fingers began to tap an incessant rhythm on the armrest, prompting Alan to thrust his hand out and grab her wrist, stopping her.

  “Stop fidgeting! You’re almost twenty, not two. We’re practically there.”

  Sure enough, the seatbelt signs lit up, casting a glow across the ceiling.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, we are getting ready to begin our descent into San Francisco International…”

  It had been years since their mothers had taken them to the West Coast, but on the surface little seemed to have changed. Almost immediately she had to reach for a sweater—sunny California it may have been, but it was a good fifteen degrees colder here than in New England this time of year. Preserving the appearance of a happy couple on their honeymoon, Alan handled the majority of their extensive luggage until they reached the loading area. A blonde hulk of a man wearing sunglasses was standing there with a sign bearing her name, waiting patiently.

  “My Lady,” he said under his breath, lowering his head as far as he dared in public. He gave the same courtesy to Alan, taking the cart full of luggage and shooing them both into the back of a dark town car.

  She settled back against the leather and watched the city whip by in a blur. The car was silent as they sped over the Golden Gate Bridge and northward, into the Golden Gate national recreation area. They made a series of turns, almost too fast to keep track, and drove through the woods for a few miles before reaching the gatehouse.

  “Credentials, please,” the armed guard said to the driver.

  He handed them over, waiting.

  “And your passengers?”

  Leiani silently unhooked the pendant that declared her heir to the Aqua court and passed it up.

  “Lady Leiani! Lord Alan! Welcome, we’ve been expecting you. Master Kale is waiting for you in the main hall.”

  Leiani didn’t even bother waiting for someone to open the door for her—she was up and out of the car before the driver could stop the car completely. Alan scrambled to follow, cursing her under his breath.

  A tall, tan man was standing at the front doors to the mansion sprawled in front of them, his arms outstretched. “Little Leiani!” he called with a smile. “How long it’s been!”

  She stepped directly into his arms, letting him lift her from her feet and spin her around and she laughed. “Kale, you haven’t changed a bit!”

  “You have,” he said with an admiring glance down her body. “It’s been… what, five years? You’ve bloomed, my dear.”

  “Hello, Kale,” Alan said calmly, though his jaw ached from clenching his teeth. “Good to see you.”

  “Hello, Alan, you lucky dog. Newlyweds, in my house! I’ll never hear the end of it from Mother.”

  “How is your mother?” Leiani asked, ignoring Alan and looping her arm through Kale’s, steering him into the house.

  “She’s fine—she’s upstairs, somewhere. She’ll be thrilled to see you, I’m sure.”

  “Why?”

  “She’s been on my case about getting married—I’m twenty-five already. Practically ancient,” he said with a grimace as Leiani laughed. “She wants the house full of babies again. Perhaps you and Alan will oblige her? How long are you staying?”

  “Oh, we’re not sure yet,” she said with a fierce blush. “And we just got married—there’s time for all of that. Why haven’t you gotten married, Kale? They must be breaking down the door.”

  “The only girl I was even remotely interested in is already married,” he said, with a smouldering look that made Alan want to punch him in the face.

  How tempting that thought was.

  “We’re rather tired, Kale. Do you think we could have an hour or two to get our bearings?” he said instead.

  “I’m not tired at all!” Leiani protested. “We have so much catching up to do!”

  Kale saw the look in Alan’s eyes and let go of Leiani’s arm. “No, no, I’m being selfish. Let me show you to your rooms, and I’ll meet you again for dinner.”

  Once the door closed behind them, Alan grabbed Leiani’s upper arms roughly and kissed her with all of the pent up frustration she inspired in him. In two steps, they were across the room and tumbling into the bed.

  When they were lying there afterwards, sweaty and out of breath, she turned her back on him, not even wanting to look at him.

  “Every time you try to make me jealous, this is how it will end,” he said quietly. “I will remind you that you are mine, and you’ll stay that way.”

  “You’ll have my body, Alan, but that’s all.”

  “For now. Don’t think I didn’t feel your response. I’ve wanted you for years, but we’ve waited until now. You’ve wanted me too, before. What’s changed?”

  “It’s not my choice anymore—rape isn’t romantic.”

  She felt him shift guiltily at the word. “You’ve never said no.”

  “I’ve made my feelings clear—you choosing to ignore my feelings isn’t exactly new.”

  He was silent for a moment. “Do I disgust you that much?”

  “Your attitude does! I’m not your toy or your mistress, Alan. I’m your wife, and I wish you’d start acting like it!”

  That struck a chord. “I wish you’d start acting like it! Hanging off of Kale the way you were, encouraging him to… to�
��” he stuttered over his own words in his rage.

  “Kale is my friend.”

  “He wants to be more than that.”

  “We’ve been here ten minutes! You can’t possibly know that.”

  “We’re men. I know.”

  She huffed and turned from him, pulling her dress back on in one swift motion. “I’m going to shower.”

  “Fine.”

  She slammed the door behind her, leaving Alan in silence with his turbulent thoughts. She was only a few steps from the bathroom when a woman stepped out of another room, almost colliding with her.

  “Oh! I’m so sorry!” Leiani cried, reaching out to steady her.

  “Keo?” the woman asked, dazed.

  “Mrs. Davis! No, it’s Leiani, Keo’s daughter.”

  “Leiani, you’ve arrived! Kale didn’t tell me you were here. Let me look at you.”

  Kale’s mother stepped back and held her by the shoulders. Leiani tried not to wince when her hands slid down to cup her upper arms, touching the rapidly bruising flesh that Alan had held less than an hour before. She squirmed under her motherly eye—she was sure it was obvious what she’d been doing.

  “You look lovely—a glowing bride. Where’s Alan?”

  “He’s in our rooms, resting. It’s been a long few days.”

  “I’m sure, poor dear. Why aren’t you resting with him?”

  “I was just on my way to shower—wash the dust off, all that.” She smiled weakly.

  “Please, don’t let me stop you! I’ll see you at dinner, dear.”

  She waved and disappeared down the hall in a moment, rounding the corner without looking back. Leiani made a break for the bathroom and slammed the door behind her, breathing heavily. She looked at herself in the wall of mirrors backing the bathroom and made a face.

  Mrs. Davis had definitely known.

  She stripped herself back out of her dress and turned the shower onto its hottest setting, letting the steam fill the room and puff her hair into curly little ringlets. She was beginning to bruise in places that were thankfully coverable, but she knew she would blush every time she thought of them.