Before the Storm

by Claire Ashgrove

  Son of a bitch—my book! He probably would tell them. He was bound by camarilla ethics, yes? The son of the current leader and destined to take over, right? Of course he wouldn’t sit on that.

  As fury shot through me, my control slipped. Energy poured through me, flooded into the surrounding atmosphere. I stopped, squeezed my eyes shut tight, and waited for something to crash, burn up, someone to scream—whatever might come next.

  But nothing happened.

  I stood there, waiting for the worst, felt the power leave me, and absolutely nothing happened.

  Great. I was absolutely a failure.

  With a sigh, I reached for my doorknob…and froze in place. Beneath my fingers, the metal was cool and smooth. Yet my fingers were the problem. I couldn’t see them.

  I tapped a nail against the polished knob. Faint pinging bounced back. I felt the hardness, felt the substance. And yet, all that was there was the round little knob.

  Astounded, I held my hand in front of my face, fingers splayed. I could see through the spaces, but I could also see through where I figured the meat of my hand should be.

  Then again, maybe not. I couldn’t make out the grain in the wood finish, as I could if I looked to the side of where I thought my hand was. The little black whorls and curves were present, but nowhere near as defined.

  As I studied the discrepancy, I began to make out the distinct outline of my hand, my thumb, each remaining finger. Even my damned arm. What the hell had I done?

  Wait. I’d done exactly as I’d hoped to do. I wanted to be a fly on the wall.

  With a jolt of understanding, something connected that I should have latched on to days ago. My first few lessons with Kale involved simple things, and I’d decided the success I had over them was directly related to the level of ease. The harder the spell became, the worse my success rate. This afternoon, however, magic flowed through me because I wanted it to, and the spell difficulty amounted to nothing.

  In hindsight, those tiny insignificant spells were so much larger, because every bit of me was hoping they would succeed. It wasn’t as if I had any particular tone with the words—I could barely pronounce most of them. Instead, I channeled everything I had into making them work. I just didn’t realize the effort required, because the payoff was so, well, insignificant.

  And I’d just done the same damned thing—my complete focus was on hearing what they were saying about me. Only this time, the outcome of my power surge came astonishingly close to my intent.

  Another thought settled on my shoulders. If I could will the outcome into existence, maybe success had nothing to do with words at all. Maybe the words were simply like my mental tirade, designed to draw a user’s focus. Maybe my problems had nothing to do with accomplishing magic, but preventing the accidental occurrence.

  Or maybe I was wrong all the way around and this was just damn good luck.

  I pushed the confusion aside. Whatever the reason, I was currently invisible, or so I thought. I wasn’t about to let that go to waste. First though, I had to test it out.

  I glanced over my shoulder at the courtyard where two men who looked vaguely familiar sat conversing with each other over a game of Chinese checkers. Trying to pass them could be risky. Depending on their skills, they’d likely sense me even if they couldn’t see me. If all I’d managed was some novitiate illusion, they would definitely observe me.

  Then again, I’d rather they notice me than someone in that council chamber.

  Squaring my shoulders, I braced for failure and took two purposeful strides closer. The thump of my shoes, however, brought me up short. I couldn’t very well sneak past someone sounding like an elephant. Using more caution, I proceeded, my steps slower and much quieter.

  Five feet away from the back of the dark-haired man’s chair, I stopped. I stood still as a mouse, staring at their rough hands as they moved their marbles. Still enough that if anyone could see me, they’d realize I was observing. Close enough my observance would call attention.

  Several long moments passed. I held my breath, feeling each ticking second pass like hours. Long, drawn-out, monotonous hours. My anticipation grew, the urge to bolt to the chambers before they finished their little meeting gnawing away at my patience.

  I waited a few more minutes. Slowly, I began to accept the obvious—they couldn’t see me.

  Hot damn! I’d done something totally, amazingly right!

  Possessed by giddiness, I allowed myself the childish act of dancing in place. Then sucked up my composure and tip-toed away from the pair and their colorful little marbles. When I was far enough away I felt confident they couldn’t hear my boots on the ground, I ran.

  I ran down the rest of the hall, up the flights of stairs, past the healing chamber, on up to the meeting hall, and skidded to a stop outside the door. Now what? I couldn’t very well just walk in—an opening door with no one in the entry was a little obvious. So how to get to the other side?

  As I muttered a curse beneath my breath, a duo of feminine voices echoed from beyond the door—laughter. Growing louder. Completely absorbed in their own conversation.

  They’d never notice any slight trace of me.

  Hope blossomed. I held my breath, waiting, staring at the doorknob as it seemingly turned in slow motion. I ducked to my left, ensuring I was positioned out of their way, and yet close enough I could dart back in before the door shut behind me.

  Please, please, please let this work. Things so seldom went right for me, it was hard to believe in the possibility.

  But luck was definitely in my favor. The door opened. A blonde and a petite girl with tattoos down the length of her right arm stepped onto the landing. I bolted inside as they let out another bright peal of laughter. The door thumped soundly shut.

  I’d done it. Twice in one day. Had the apocalypse struck when I wasn’t paying attention?

  To my left, the council chamber spanned the wall. The members within sat in a half-moon arrangement, none directly facing the wide window spanning the upper half of the dividing wall. Their voices rose, impassioned and far louder than I remembered from before. They had seemed muted then.

  Ah, indeed they were—the glass door to their chamber sat a few inches ajar. Like someone tried to shut it with their heel and didn’t realize they failed. With the way they were sitting, they wouldn’t notice the oversight either.

  I glanced skyward and said a silent little prayer. Someone was definitely looking out for me today.

  “You cannot mean to look past this, Gerard,” Beth all but screeched. “This wasn’t the plan. She is weak. A rotten link that will end up destroying us all. And you want us, want me, to sit back and pretend like Kale took in a homeless puppy. Hell, he’s not even supposed to be training anyone. He should be with the warriors, preparing.”

  Okay. Maybe someone wasn’t looking out for me, but instead, wanted to teach me a lesson. I gritted my teeth and glowered at Beth. That woman was a piece of work.

  “Beth,” Maude began quietly.

  Beth overran her, not even bothering to pause. “Instead, he’s fooling around, playing tutor, and playing between the sheets.”

  “That is enough!” Kale thundered.

  The ferocious boom of his voice was enough to stall my heart, and not in any good way. More like the cower and hide way. I took an unconscious step back, distancing myself from the furious man who all-too-calmly placed both palms on the table and levered himself out of his chair. He bent forward, his profile hard and severe.

  “You have done your best to intimidate Halle from the moment she arrived. You’ve tried to run her off, and now that those attempts have failed, you’re trying to convince the rest of the council so they’ll force her out.”

  “Only because you’re too blind to do what needs to be done,” Beth countered. “You can’t even admit the truth—she’s worthless with magic.”

  To my surprise, Gerard leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his wide
chest, perfectly content to let his wife and son go at it in front of everyone. The rest of the council cast furtive glances between one another.

  Kale slammed a fist onto the table so hard Maude’s water goblet wobbled. “The truth is, Beth, she’s ten times more capable than you.”

  My eyes went wide. Kale was defending me. Praising me. She’d given him the opening to tell them how pathetic my spells were, how nothing worked the way it was supposed to, and he wasn’t taking it.

  At Beth’s disdainful snort, he added, “In magic, in natural power, and her heart is twice what yours ever could be.” He shoved away from the table and began to stalk around the half circle. “Can she summon a spell on a whim? Not usually what she intends, but what she releases is stunning. She doesn’t even know she’s doing it. I’ve watched her every morning—she doesn’t know the meaning of quit. Hell, I’d have thrown in the towel by now.”

  “See?” Beth gestured at him. “He’s caught up in her completely.”

  “And so what if I am?” Kale stopped at her side, the glint in his eyes downright dangerous. “I’m a grown man, not a child. Who I choose to be with is my decision, just as it’s my decision which tactic to use in what conflict. I may have feelings for Halle that go beyond what I ever intended, but even with her present difficulties, there’s no one I’d trust more to fight at my side.”

  The man to Maude’s right made a murmur of approval, which set the rest of the council into similar appreciative sounds. Color flooded Beth’s face, and her lips pursed into a thin white line.

  “That’s right, Beth,” Kale continued, “No one. Now, I think we’ve had enough of your drama. If you want Halle to leave before she’s ready, I promise, you’ll have to force me out as well.”

  Ho-ly shit. Talk about lines in the sand. And me—me! He was standing up for me! I mean, I could have bought he might say something like that if I’d actually been present. But I wasn’t. As far as I knew, Kale had no idea I even lurked nearby. He had no reason to sing my praises, nothing to gain except possible condemnation.

  The slow, steady beat of my heart turned erratic. Feeling swelled inside my chest, expanding into all the empty places until I thought my ribs might burst apart. Maude had been right—I had no reason to doubt him. He wouldn’t spill my secrets, wouldn’t betray me even when given prime opportunity.

  “Kale,” Gerard interrupted quietly.

  Kale turned to face his father, his teeth gritted, as evidenced by the tick along the line of his jaw.

  “You’re right to defend, Halle. We need her. I sense what you no doubt have experienced—she’s incredibly strong. But be advised, Beth is not the only member of the camarilla who will condemn your involvement with Halle.”

  Kale bristled at the same time I stiffened. His gaze flashed like the glint of knives, and then he narrowed it sharply. “It is not their concern.”

  Gerard raised a hand, begging him off. “It is, when you are to take over my duties and lead them.”

  With a shake of his head, Kale dragged in a deep breath. As he exhaled, I observed the way the fight drained out of him. He glanced around the seated council members. “I have told you all before, and I’ll say it again—I won’t.”

  “Kale, don’t be so stubborn,” Maude chided. “We need you.”

  He chuckled and shook his head again. “No, you certainly don’t need me. For the very reasons you’d all condemn Halle, you should condemn me.”

  Spring sat forward, leaning toward the center of the arched arrangement. “It’s not in your blood, Kale. She’s half Yaksini by birth, and while I certainly enjoy her company, I confess to a degree of wariness when I consider what a united future between you both might bring.”

  Spring, too? My spirits sank. She’d seemed so friendly, so warm and approachable. And yet, by her own words, she equated me with the same failings they assigned to my mother.

  Kale seemed more determined not to be swayed than ever. He gave her a curt nod. “You are entitled to your own thoughts. I, however, am done with this conversation. Speak to me no more about Halle, my involvement with her, or her training. If you have questions, ask her directly.”

  Just like that he placed himself on my side. Another rush of feeling swept over me. Tears pricked my eyes. Dear God, I had to get out of here before I choked up.

  Kale strode out of the room, yanked the door shut behind him so hard the windows rattled. Directly in front of me, he came to an abrupt halt. Shit! Could he—

  A perturbed frown danced across his brow, before he gave in to an almost inaudible chuckle. His fingers laced through mine.

  Oh, yeah, he could.

  With his broad shoulders blocking the view through the window, he led me through the door and out onto the landing. There, when he had closed the door once again, a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Where’d you learn this trick?”

  “I…don’t really know.”

  “Do you know how to undo it?”

  I laughed. “Not hardly.”

  “Good.” His grin morphed into a wry smirk. “Let this be punishment for eavesdropping.”

  “What?” I cried, appalled. “You won’t fix it for me?”

  He laughed, just a bit too devilishly. “Nope. But I’ll keep you company until you figure it out.”

  Twenty

  I want to be seen.

  I focused on the thought so hard it wouldn’t have surprised me if my head exploded. Kale and I sat atop the high rocky outcropping that sheltered the entrance to the camarilla’s stronghold. The evening air rustled through the overhead branches and danced in my hair. Nearly two hours had passed, both of us talking about everything but what I’d overheard in the council chamber.

  And for the third time, nothing happened to lift my invisibility. What was I doing wrong?

  “Ugh,” I muttered.

  “Problems?” he asked, his smirk still fully intact.

  “Kale.” I sighed heavily. “This isn’t funny any longer. You know I have no idea how to control this stuff. Shit just…happens.”

  “But how did you get it to happen?”

  “Do we really have to go through this again?”

  He’d asked the question both times before, and both times I’d answered the same—I willed myself to be invisible. Exactly like I’d tried a second ago.

  “I’m trying to prove a point to you, Halle.”

  “You think?” I elbowed him in the ribs—hard.

  He grunted.

  “I get it that I shouldn’t fool around with things I don’t know how to undo. I can’t seem to—”

  “No.” He swiveled until he faced me fully, assuming a cross-legged position, his knees nearly touching mine. “I don’t care what you fool around with magically. I’m trying to make you understand you can do this on your own.”

  Frustration welled. I smacked a balled fist on the rock then promptly wished I hadn’t. Stinging pain tripped all the way to my shoulder. “Damn.”

  “Probably not the smartest move there, genius.” He chuckled low.

  “When I get free of this, Kale, I’m so kicking your ass. I’d do so now, but it seems unfair when you can’t see the punches coming.”

  He arched a challenging eyebrow. “You think I can’t defend myself? Go ahead. Give it your best shot.”

  Scowling, I debated it for all of three seconds. But truthfully, I didn’t really want to. I wasn’t angry with him, just frustrated with the situation. Because, more than anything, I wanted him to see the sincerity in my eyes when I thanked him for his defense against Beth. I needed him to witness how much it meant to me.

  “Chicken,” he murmured.

  “I am not a chicken. I’m sparing you the embarrassment of having your butt handed to you by an invisible girl.”

  “Uh-huh.” He scooted back around and dropped his feet off the ledge, gazing out at the starlit sky.

  My gaze followed his. It was unreal how the Applegate city lights I kn
ew should be there were nowhere to be seen. Hard to believe I was sitting in some other, intangible, place and time. But there was no other way to put it. I’d left Applegate, left the woods I knew like the back of my hand, and traversed through some unseen portal. Walked right into somewhere I didn’t belong, only to find the place I’d probably belonged all along. Miami no longer called to me. All I wanted now was to master this weird power of mine, save my mother and sister, and destroy my uncle.

  Maybe that’s why Beth’s insults stung. I’d reached a place where I genuinely wanted to be that person who could carry out the camarilla’s expectations. As long as I didn’t stop to consider just what depended on my success or failure, the responsibility didn’t seem so unbearable.

  “I heard what you said,” I whispered. Might as well spill it now, since it didn’t seem like I was getting out of this invisibility trick any time soon.

  “When?” He drew out the question hesitantly.

  “In the chambers, to Beth, to the others.” Damn, this was awkward. If he could just see the expression on my face, he’d know all the words I wanted to say. He understood me like that.

  Kale shrugged. “Flattery won’t get you out of the spell.”

  “No. I’m serious.” I slid my hand to his thigh. “Kale, I…no one’s ever…”

  His hand covered mine, but he didn’t look away from the horizon. “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain.”

  But damn it, I wanted to. Come on. “I want to. I’ve never…no one’s ever stood up for me before. You stood up to your entire family. Powerful people.”

  A soft smile tugged at his lips. Still, he didn’t glance my way. “It’s no big deal, Halle. You deserved every word.”

  Ugh, he so wasn’t getting it. It was the biggest deal of my life. I pulled my hand from beneath his and touched his shoulder, willing him to turn his head though he couldn’t see my face. “But it is, Kale. It means so much more than you could realize.”

  The breeze stirred again, tumbling through my hair and dancing it across my eyes. I pushed it behind my ears and blew out a sigh. “I’m trying…to say…thank you.”