The Complete Chosen Trilogy (The Chosen #0)

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The Complete Chosen Trilogy (The Chosen #0) Page 28

by N. M. Santoski


  “I don’t know what I’m doing!” she protested. “Vandalizing the windows in the lunchrooms is one thing, but—“

  “We’ll figure it out together,” he promised, squeezing her hand tighter. “We have to do something for him… for all of us.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Michael Warrington left Caer Anglia and made good time down I-95—in less than three hours he was home, strolling through the front door and calling for the maid.

  "Sophia, please inform my son I am waiting for him in my office."

  "Yes, my Lord."

  He stripped himself of suit jacket and tie along the way, dropping them anywhere convenient. He kicked the door to his office shut and rolled up his shirtsleeves, pouring two tumblers of whiskey. He put a drop of water into each and waited.

  He didn't wait long. The knock came less than five minutes after he'd taken his seat, and he beckoned his son in with a friendly nod. Wordlessly, he handed Manas the whiskey, a recent tradition between them, and they slowly sipped until the glasses were empty. Only then did he speak.

  "The Aeron situation is becoming...problematic."

  "I agree."

  "How do we solve it?"

  "Aeron has several sets of people on his trail, but they are all looking for him because they care about him. Let me take a few people and hunt for him. You can trust me to conduct this the way you would yourself."

  Michael was silent for a few moments, thinking. "I'm proud of you, Manas," he finally said with a small smile of approval. "I don't say it often enough, but you are a Warrington of the finest caliber, and you do our name a service. How many people will you take with you?"

  "Just two or three, I think-- too many would ruin any element of surprise."

  "Not Isabella," Michael said sharply, seeing the glint in Manas's eye.

  "Father..."

  "No, Manas. We will announce your betrothal at the annual New Year’s Eve party. Until then, no breath of scandal can touch you—or her. Caesar’s wife…"

  "It's the 21st century!" Manas protested, having heard that saying more times than he could count. "Pyrrhus is jetting around with the Disanza girl..."

  "What is appropriate for an Ignis and what is appropriate for an Artifex are two different things."

  Manas huffed. "I swear, I'll be a perfect gentleman."

  "No, Manas. Take Keller with you-- he's been itching to get back at Aeron for months."

  "And Angus, I think, if that meets with your approval." He barely managed to keep the sarcasm out of his tone.

  "It does. If you find him..."

  "Yes?"

  "If you find him, and you have no chance of being seen, kill him. Make it look like an accident, make it look like someone else's kill if you want, but no breath of scandal can touch you."

  "I understand completely."

  "If you think it's possible he'll get away, or there are witnesses, your best bet is to imprison him in stone and call me immediately. His Fulmen will be useless inside, and that will give us time."

  "What if there are people with him?"

  "If they are human, kill them. If not... use your judgment."

  Manas nodded and stood. "Tell Lady Tempus I'm sorry to have missed her this time-- she seems to be out."

  "She does this every once in a while--she says she needs to reconnect to her roots."

  "Father..."

  Caught by the uncertainty in his son's tone, Michael looked up. "Yes?"

  "If I were to ask you, hypothetically, if Lady Tempus is my mother...?"

  "I would tell you that Lady Tempus took an oath thousands of years ago to remain faithful to Juno."

  "And if I asked you for the truth this time?"

  A beat. "Then I would tell you your mother, whoever she may be, loves you very much."

  Manas swallowed, looking slightly ill. "She must."

  "Manas..."

  "You don't need to say more, Father. I..."

  "When this is all over, I—we will explain everything to you, I promise."

  "I will bring Nolan Aeron to you, even if it's just his head," Manas said suddenly, his face ashen.

  "Our family's honor depends on it. Go well, my son."

  When the door closed behind Manas, Michael reached for his phone and dialed a number he knew by heart.

  "I need you back here, please," he said without preamble as soon as the other person answered the phone.

  "Is something wrong?" Alix asked. "Manas?"

  "He's not stupid, my love. The stakes have been raised—I need you here with me."

  "I'm almost done with my offerings—I'll be back before nightfall."

  The line went dead.

  When Alix entered the room a few hours later, he was still seated in the same position, his long empty tumbler still within reach. She recognized immediately that he was in one of his deep trances, making mental connections at a level so deep he could only emerge on his own. Instead, she gathered her skirts, perched on the edge of her customary armchair, and waited.

  After about fifteen minutes, Michael blinked and noticed her sitting there. Still slightly dazed, he smiled at her without calculation for the first time in years. "My love."

  She smiled back and stood, kneeling in front of his chair. "Michael, what's happened?"

  "Your skirt has grass stains on it," he observed, not listening.

  "I know. What happened with Manas?"

  "He asked if you were his mother."

  Her breath caught. "What did you say?"

  "What I always say."

  "And?"

  "Then he asked for the truth."

  "Did you give it to him?"

  "Indirectly. Things are moving too fast for me now, Alix. I don't know if I can see this through."

  Now she really was alarmed. He was never anything but confident. "Michael, you are on the verge of victory, and now you have doubts?"

  "If we fail, it will all be for nothing."

  "If we fail, amator, we will be dead, and it won't matter. We've come too far to stop now."

  He nodded slowly, lowering his head to kiss the tops of her hands. "Manas is going after Nolan Aeron with a few of his friends. I doubt he'll find the boy-- Aeron is too experienced for that, but the pressure is on. We need to flush him out of hiding before he has time to make a plan."

  ***

  Isabella frowned, hugging her arms across her chest as she watched the boys load the car with their bags. "Manas, are you sure I can't help?"

  He took her chin in his hand, smiling as he kissed each corner of her down-turned mouth. "Don't pout, dearest—I promise we'll be back in time for the New Year’s Eve ball. We'll announce our betrothal then."

  "I can help, I know I can!"

  "You'll be a distraction," he said with a wink, ignoring Jonas, who was clutching his chest dramatically and swooning in the direction of Angus. Angus dropped the last two suitcases and caught him with an oath, stopping him from hitting the ground by inches.

  "You idiot, you just got the use of your legs back!"

  Jonas grinned and got back to his feet. "Manas will miss you, Izzy, but we'll keep him warm at night!"

  "You'll stay away from me if you know what's good for you!" Manas said, swatting Jonas' arm away as he attempted to put it around his shoulders. "I think that Medica girl scrambled your brains when she healed you."

  "My brains are just fine, thank you very much," Jonas said, affronted. He leaned down and kissed Isabella on the cheek. "You'll be a huge help just by keeping us updated on what's going on here."

  She relented, but only just. "Someone has to watch your father's back, Manas," she acknowledged.

  "Keep up your friendship with Rebecca Selocrim," Manas advised in a low voice, pulling Isabella to the side. "She's the Sword's protector at the moment, so she's the one to watch."

  "Promise me you'll stay safe," she said suddenly, clinging to his arm. "I was so afraid during the Rite of Passage..."

  "I've never heard you so... meek," he said,
eyebrow raised in surprise. "This is necessary, you know that."

  "I know."

  He leaned down to kiss her on the cheek, but she turned her head and caught his lips with hers, desperate. If a single kiss could have convinced him to stay, it would have, but Manas Warrington had a job to do. Gently, he detached her from his arm and gave her a final, lingering kiss. "I love you, but I have to go. I'll call you when we get to Boston."

  "Okay." She managed a smile that looked almost real. "Safe travels."

  "Manas, come on!" Angus called from the passenger seat of the already running car. "We've got to go if we're going to make it there before dark!"

  "Coming!" He threw her one final grin and was off down the drive. He didn't look back.

  "That took forever," Angus complained as Manas backed out into the street. "You left me with this lunatic!"

  Jonas leaned over the back of the seat. "You're really going to marry her, huh?"

  "We'll announce our betrothal at the party, then get married in June. It's been set since we were children."

  "I'm surprised your father didn't try to get you Disanza—keep it in the Nine Families."

  "I'd rather drive off of a cliff—besides, Pyrrhus has been sniffing around her, and I wouldn't want Aeron's leftovers anyway."

  "There's always the younger sister."

  "Isabella's great-grandmother was a K'Oliu—the blood is there, even if it's strained. There aren't that many pure options left."

  "You're not exactly pure yourself," Angus pointed out. "Only through your father."

  Manas bit down on his tongue to keep from snarling the truth into his smug face. "And your father was killed in a Pride battle. What's your point?"

  "I just meant--"

  "Isabella is perfect, and I don't want to hear another word about it. We need to get up to Boston and start looking for Aeron. I want to bring his head back to my father in a box."

  Jonas leaned forward and clicked on the radio, immediately filling the interior of the car with pounding bass. "Then quit yapping and drive!"

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Claire’s classes were going well, all things considered. As the school year went on, she lessened their work load—since History was not something that would help them practically during the Rite of Passage, their attention spans were almost nonexistent. Still, they were a good class, and she was happy to have them.

  “Miss Connor?”

  When she looked up from grading, her heart dropped. “Clara, good morning. Did you have a question about the material?”

  “No, I—could I talk to you for a moment?” She was fidgeting, refusing to look Claire in the eye.

  With everything in her, she wanted to say no. She’d known Clara a long time—as long as she’d known Gia—and she knew that look. Clara was afraid.

  She was Clara’s teacher, and her friend. Her answer could be nothing but yes.

  “Of course—step in and close the door behind you, please.”

  Clara sat down and continued to fidget, her large dark eyes pinned to the ground.

  “Clara.”

  The gentleness in Claire’s voice led her to look up at last. Claire reached across the desk and untangled her hands. The nail beds were torn and bleeding—Clara had been biting her fingernails again.

  “Talk to me.”

  “I’m scared!” she burst out, so loudly she startled them both. “I’m worried about Gia, and my brother has been sending me the strangest letters, and I haven’t heard anything from Shui…”

  “What has Arias been writing to you?” Claire asked, picking the most worrisome of the options. Arias Disanza was a dangerous man, and it would be unwise to cross him.

  Clara reached into her messenger bag and pulled out a bundle of letters. “Here.”

  Claire pulled one randomly from the pile and read it silently.

  Clara,

  I hope your studies are progressing well—as the future Lady Zephyra, your time at Caer Anglia is paramount. I have yet to hear news from you regarding the state of affairs there and the rumors regarding Nolan Aeron. I expect that to be remedied in your next letter.

  She looked up, mouth pursed. “Why is he referring to you at the future Lady Zephyra? Your sister—“

  “I know! I don’t know what he’s talking about!” Clara jumped to her feet.

  “Clara Ann Disanza, sit down.” Reacting immediately to the authority in Claire’s tone, Clara sat down with an audible thump.

  Once Claire knew she had the girl’s attention, she tried again. “Clara, I’ve known you a long time. I’ve known your family a long time. You can trust me. Now, what’s really going on?”

  “My brother is unhappy with Gia.”

  “What else is new?”

  “No, really unhappy. He wanted to marry her off to Manas, and apparently she talked back to Lord Artifex when they were asking questions about Nolan Aeron, and now Lord Artifex is angry…”

  “Breathe, Clara. First of all, Manas is going to marry Isabella Rodriguez. He was never going to marry Gia, no matter what your brother thought.”

  “How do you know that? There hasn’t been an announcement yet!”

  “I heard it from Manas himself, during our teach year. That’s one thing out of the way. Does your brother think Gia is helping Nolan?”

  Clara put her finger to her mouth and began to pick at her fingernails. “I don’t know.”

  “Clara!”

  “I don’t!” she protested. “I mean, he probably does—I don’t think he believed her about Pyrrhus. She’d never showed much interest in him growing up.”

  “People change.”

  “Miss Connor—oh, Claire, what should I do?”

  Claire sighed and circled the desk to hug her. “Clara you are almost an adult. Sooner or later, you may have to choose between your brother and your sister—but today is not that day. Until you complete your Rite of Passage, you are Arias’s to do with as he pleases. Even after the fact, you would have to disavow him to be able to control your own life. You would lose the protection of Nine Family status unless you married Pyrrhus or Manas or Nolan right away… you could marry one of the lesser boys, I suppose, but your status is that of your husband’s. Could you handle the drop in prestige?” She almost managed to strip the sarcasm from her tone.

  Clara squirmed under her gaze. “But Claire…”

  “You came for advice and I’m giving it. Stay on Arias’s good side, for now. Tell him the truth—you don’t know anything about where Nolan Aeron is. Be a dutiful sister until you can control your own fate.”

  “…and that’s where we left it,” Claire finished, repeating the story to Matthew verbatim an hour later in his office.

  “Why is Arias Disanza priming his younger sister to be his successor when he knows damn well that he has an older one that will take his place?” Matthew asked, watching Claire pace.

  “I don’t know—either he plans on disinheriting her, which is ridiculous, or killing her, which is terrifying.”

  “Why is the first ridiculous?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Matthew, really.”

  He grinned. “Educate me, my lady.”

  “Arias can say whatever he wants about his successor, but it’s the Sword of the Nine that will choose, not him. Almost always, the Sword chooses the natural next in line. If Arias had a child, this wouldn’t be an issue. He doesn’t, so it is.”

  “Are we sure he doesn’t have one somewhere? I know his marriage to Lady Shui is barren, but…”

  “He would never groom Clara if he thought he had another option. I’m sure.”

  “How does he possibly think he’ll get away with killing his own sister? That kind of thing is blasphemy with numen—look at how quickly they were able to steamroll John Aeron with even an accusation.”

  “I don’t think he’s planning on killing her himself. He’ll either pin her as an accomplice to Nolan and have her beheaded, or make it look like an accident.”

  There was silen
ce for a moment as they looked at each other.

  “Can you warn her?” he asked quietly.

  “No.”

  “Can you warn him?”

  “No.”

  “What do you plan on doing?”

  “What we’ve been doing—support Nolan secretly, try to push our agenda, and keep our mouths shut.”

  “That won’t work forever.”

  “I know—when Nolan comes out of hiding, I will declare for him, and the hell with the consequences. Until then, I have my ear to the ground. I’ll watch Clara more closely, as well. I don’t want her to get hurt.”

  Matthew put his arms around her and rested his cheek against her hair. “I think a lot of people are going to get hurt before this is over, Claire.”

  She nodded. “I’ll protect who I can.”

  “Who will protect you?”

  She smiled, thinking he was joking. He wasn’t. “I won’t be able to protect you, Claire. I’m nobody.”

  “Then we’ll do it together.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Beachhead was one of the more soothing of the American courts, Alix thought to herself as she walked along the malachite flooring, her heels clicking. The faint sound of the ocean breaking against the beach was audible from every corner of the compound, the breezes were pleasant, and its Lady was one of the more gracious that had ever administered justice in its halls. There was, however, a downside to this beautiful place.

  Beachhead was in prime hurricane territory.

  Not even the most powerful Aqua could change the direction of a hurricane, just as the Zephyra would never dream of taking on a tornado. Two hurricanes had already passed close by this year, and it was only the middle of August.

  Nevertheless, this particular day was perfect for an alfresco lunch, and that’s exactly what she was here for.

  Keopelani was waiting on the terrace, already seated, when Alix arrived. She rose to her feet and inclined her head.

  “Lady Tempus, welcome to my home.”

  “You honor me with the invitation, Lady Aqua,” Alix said with a smile, swooping in for a kiss on each cheek, and gesturing for the other woman to sit. “How are you, Keo? Any news from the newlyweds?”

 

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