Jade slowly shook her head. “No, I don’t so. I’ve heard rebel stories about strange shape shifters before. Not the ones relating to the missing bodies, but it’s not a huge leap to connect the two.”
“So what do we do?” Shae asked.
“Firstly, none of us are going to investigate anything on our own. No matter how small a lead, we investigate it together,” Jade began, pointing at Isis. “I mean it, Isis.”
Isis raised her hands. “All right. You have my word: no investigating solo.”
“Next, we should keep information about Coop as quiet as possible. Any information we find out we keep between the Monroes and us. If we’re looking for him, chances are we’re not the only ones. I don’t want anyone finding out about us before we find out about them.”
“Sounds reasonable,” Shae said. Alex and Isis nodded in agreement.
“I also want to find out more about these rebel stories if we can,” Jade mentioned. “Hunter or Cassidy will probably be able to help us with that. Let’s just hope the rebels wrote some of them down.”
“If they did, I’d be happy to look them over,” Alex said. “And on that note, I think I’m going to call it a night.”
“Me too,” Jade said. “You two have a good rest of the evening. I’ll talk to Hunter in the morning.”
Isis and Shae watched as they left. Once they were gone, Shae turned back to Isis. The kitchen was dark around them and the only light came from a single fixture above the counter.
“So, what did you think of Tracy?” Shae asked. Isis could tell from her tone that she had been waiting to ask her that all evening.
“Did Steve look tired to you?” Isis asked, looking over at her cousin.
“He’s a detective. He’s been working weird hours.”
Isis shook her head, not satisfied with Shae’s response.
“It’s more than that. He has worked weird hours before,” Isis pointed out. “He looked completely worn out. I’ve never seen rings under his eyes before.”
Shae paused. “You know, now that you mention it, he did look a bit under the weather. You should call him later.”
“I will,” Isis said, pausing when she noticed her cousin was still looking at her. “What?”
“His girlfriend, what did you think?” Shae repeated and Isis shrugged. She hated it when people asked her opinion on others. She never knew how she was supposed to respond and it always seemed like no matter what she said, it was wrong.
“She seems nice enough,” Isis answered, moving for the doorway. Shae followed her.
“Wow, you actually liked someone. That’s a change,” she joked. Isis gave her an annoyed look as they made their way to the main staircase. She barely heard the numerous questions about her uncles as they walked in the direction of her room, lost in her own thoughts again. Once they reached her room, they said their goodnights and Isis stepped inside. She closed the door, locked it, and went across the room to the large window. Isis looked up at the moon. Some dark clouds hung in the sky, obscuring the many stars.
She closed the curtains, blocking out the light from the snow, and moved back across the room to her nightstand, pulling open the drawer and retrieving a thin spiral. Isis pulled up the right sleeve of her dark sweater exposing her bare arm, where she had swiftly jotted down the number of Halley Waterson, Cara’s mother, the only lead they currently had on Coop. She wrote down the phone number in the corner of a page. Jet had briefed them on the search earlier that morning, mentioning the possible lead. He was planning to make contact later in the week and might need the Four to do a follow-up. Of course, Lilly and he would probably have their hands full with Roan and the task would likely be assigned to the Four.
Once she put the spiral back, Isis held the pen for a minute. She tapped it against the palm of her other hand, debating what to do with the information. She had promised Jade she wouldn’t investigate on her own, and Isis fully intended to keep her word. However, she questioned the wisdom in having four people question one source. From what Jet had said, it sounded as though Halley could be jittery. Alpha also told her shape shifters didn’t usually hide unless they had no choice, meaning Coop had probably gone underground for a reason. He implied there were people after not only him, but Isis as well. Surely a small investigation with fewer people should be considered. After all, the fewer people who knew about a person in hiding, the less likely said person could be found. That was the whole philosophy behind witness protection.
Isis kicked off her shoes and folded her legs under her, leaning against the headboard of her bed. Her mind was racing as she tried to sort out the wisest course of action. After a moment, Isis got off the bed. She wasn’t going to figure out the answer in an evening. The best course of action at present was taking a hot shower and turning in for the night. She could think about it more in the morning.
*~*~*~*~*
Early the next morning, Roan sat at the desk in his cell. His bright green eyes were glued to the book lying on the desk and he slowly twirled a pencil around his fingers. He was waiting for one of two people and knew it would be some time before either of them made an appearance. So he remained focused on his book. It was an account of the War of the Meadows as told by one of Jet’s ancestors.
In the beginning, there were two guardians charged with watching over death: Death, for natural death, and Chaos, for violent causes. Chaos became corrupted by the power he had over life and death. He began to play very dangerous games with life and death, bringing back those who had already died and then concealing his actions by killing them again. The ones he brought back were completely under his control, lacking any form of free will. They became mindless servants of the one who brought them back. When Death discovered the actions of Chaos, he confronted him. Chaos deceived him and promised to stop. But he did not. When Death witnessed his brother resurrect a young child, he went to the High Council to inform them of the grievous actions of his brother. It was done with a heavy heart, but Death knew Chaos could not be allowed to continue violating the laws of nature.
Chaos was called before the High Council to plead his case. He argued it was the right of guardians to interfere with Earth matters to figure out the processes of life. He believed it his duty to figure out how death worked and why. Chaos viewed the Earth as belonging to the guardians and the guardians alone. Despite the High Council’s best attempts, Chaos steadfastly refused to cease his experimentations. The High Council, realizing he was afflicted with a dangerous madness, stripped him of his title and banished him from the Meadows.
Chaos sulked in the shadows for decades, studying the dark art of necromancy, and eventually amassed an army of resurrected servants. When he had gathered thousands, he opened a portal between worlds, and went to war against the Meadows.
In the first wave, the guardians suffered heavy losses. Though they had the advantage of intimate knowledge of the lands, the army of Chaos had the advantage of not feeling any pain. For years, the battle raged and finally the guardians called upon their shape shifter allies to aid them in the war.
Roan flipped the thin pages rapidly, skipping to the end. Scratching his brow, his eyes scanned to the bottom of the page and the very last line. He circled a word in the last sentence and scratched a brief note on the edge of the page, then dog-eared the page.
The sound of footsteps in the hall reached his ears and Roan closed the book, getting to his feet. Adonia stepped in front of the glass. She was wearing a soft orchid dress that seemed to enhance the guardian shimmer in her skin. Her wise dark green eyes looked at him expectantly. Roan bowed his head as a sign of respect.
“You’ve requested to see the Monroes again. Why?” Adonia asked.
“To warn them about something,” Roan replied, his eyes never moving from hers. She studied him, clearly suspicious.
“About what?”
Roan studied her, tapping his book lightly with his fingers. “Why haven’t they been to question me yet? I know Jet dislikes me, but surely he’s not so pe
tty that he would just ignore what information I might have. And I know Lilly certainly wouldn’t let petty grievances prevent them from questioning a valuable source.”
“You know it’s much more complicated than that. The High Council is still considering their request to see you. That takes time.”
Roan laughed in frustration and walked toward the back of his cell, shaking his head. “Unbelievable. Unbe-fucking-lievable.”
“You haven’t answered my question: What do you need to warn the Monroes about?”
“Look, as much as I respect your ancient laws and traditions,” Roan began, “the information I have is urgent and potentially time-sensitive. I have to speak with them.”
“And I told you: I cannot just go over the High Council without good reason,” Adonia responded.
“Adonia, listen to me. The Monroes need to know about the Key. From what I hear, the protectors are more focused on finding some random shape shifter. If they keep poking around without knowing what they’re getting into . . .” Roan paused and shook his head. “The protectors are valuable to the guardians. How many can your people afford to lose?”
Adonia crossed her arms over her chest. “Is that a threat, Roan?”
“Merely a warning from years of experience,” Roan replied. “If the members of the High Council continue dragging their feet, the Monroes will run into a fight completely blind. Believe me when I say, no good will come of that.”
“If you have a message for Jet and Lilly, I will gladly pass it along to them,” Adonia offered, brushing some hair over her shoulder. Roan licked his lips, shaking his head as he looked to the side.
“The information I have may cause some guardians to act … unwisely. However, if you could give them something for me, I would be much obliged.”
“What do you wish to pass along to them?”
Roan moved to the slot that was normally used to pass meals through and put the book in it. “Give them this.”
Adonia took the book from him and flipped through it. “I’m certain they already have this in their library.”
“Adonia, please, just give them that book.”
She glanced at him and nodded before turning to leave. Once she was out of his sight, Roan turned back to his cell. He bit his lower lip to prevent himself from screaming in frustration. Damn guardians and their damn traditions! They’re a bureaucratic nightmare, he thought angrily. That book was a last resort and he wasn’t sure the Monroes would even understand the message he sent. Roan paced around his cell like a caged animal, running a hand through his hair. He could already tell things were going to get complicated. And complications never yielded anything positive.
*~*~*~*~*
Jensen wandered around the mansion early the next night, dressed in his usual nice clothing. The sound of his shoes clicking on the tile was one of the few sounds in the halls. The shape shifters who lived in the mansion were going about their own business. Jet and Lilly were meeting with the Deverell brothers about Roan. Jensen had been invited to sit in but declined. It was just a regular meeting and he found those to be incredibly dull. He had considered joining the protector leaders’ children at the rebel Lair, but decided not to at the last minute. Absurdly loud house music would not be enjoyable. He hadn’t seen the Four around. He reached the door that led down to the training room and heard the faint sound of someone working out. Jensen raised his eyebrows, glanced around the hallway, and then started to descend the stairs to investigate the noise.
He reached the bottom of the steps and looked at the sight before him. Isis was working out, punching and kicking one of the punching bags that were suspended by solid chain links. The bag rattled violently with the intensity of the strikes. She was wearing dark workout clothes that gave her skin an almost luminous quality, but the lights in the room were too bright to highlight her faint guardian glisten. The harsh lights glinted off the small droplets of sweat that had begun to bead on her skin. Jensen swallowed as he shifted his weight, struggling to maintain his indifferent demeanor.
Isis stopped striking the bag and took a step back. “Can’t say that I’m surprised you’re a voyeur as well.”
Jensen grinned. “It was my shoes on the steps, right?”
She twisted around, looking at him with those bright green eyes of hers.
“What can I do for you, Jensen?” she asked as she unwrapped the tape from her knuckles. Jensen leaned against the wall.
“I can think of all kinds of answers to that question,” he stated. She rolled her eyes as she reached for her water bottle.
“Oooh, you’ve gone and made me weak in the knees,” she responded in a snarky tone before taking a long drink from the blue bottle. “I bet all the girls fall for that line.”
“You’d be surprised,” Jensen said, approaching her.
“Doubt it,” she scoffed as she moved to leave the room, meeting him halfway across.
“Do you enjoy solitude or something?” he inquired. Isis paused, leaning back to look him up and down. He stood a couple inches taller than Isis, but she wasn’t the sort to let a person’s height intimidate her.
“Do you?” she asked.
He raised an eyebrow. “I asked first.”
“Just a natural loner, I guess,” she replied. “I enjoy having time to myself.”
“Hm, interesting,” Jensen mused as he began to circle her, clasping his hands behind him. She turned with him, keeping him in her sight. He stopped and she did as well. Jade had mentioned earlier that Isis was a skilled fighter and Jensen was curious to see how accurate the statement was.
“I answered your question. What’s your excuse?” Isis asked, holding his gaze. A mischievous smile crept onto his face.
“I was raised by humans and they ingrained a lone wolf mentality in me,” he replied, imitating her voice. Isis scowled and stepped around him, muttering something under her breath.
“What was that?” Jensen asked, turning to watch her leave. She stopped and spun on her heel so she faced him again.
“I said that it is completely impossible to be civil to you!” she snapped and he stared at her. It didn’t take much to aggravate her. Then again, he was sure the past few months had been incredibly stressful.
“Sorry, I don’t recall asking you to be,” Jensen responded, a little annoyed. He hated it when people used civility to develop a martyr complex.
“No, you wouldn’t,” Isis shot back.
Jensen shook his head. “I don’t even know what that means.”
“It means you are without a doubt the most arrogant person I have ever met! And believe me when I say, that is an impressive accomplishment.”
“You certainly have me figured out,” Jensen responded sardonically. “If I’m arrogant, you’re judgmental and narrow-minded.”
Isis blinked. “Excuse me?”
“You figured me out after knowing me a grand total of what? A few days? You’re practically the definition of judgmental,” Jensen answered harshly.
Isis shook her head and turned to leave. “You don’t know a damn thing about me, Jensen. And you have no idea what or how I think.”
Jensen scowled as he watched her storm up the stairs. He hated people who thought they were always right. Nero came down the stairs a few moments later, frowning and glancing behind him.
“Wow, my niece looked furious. You two get in a tussle or something?” he asked, gesturing behind him.
“She started it,” Jensen half-lied. Truthfully, he didn’t remember who started the argument. Nero sighed and hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his faded jeans. He was wearing a plain white shirt, the top buttons undone. Nero rarely dressed any way other than casual.
“She’s my niece and you’re my friend. Can’t the two of you just get along, or at least act civil toward one another?” he asked.
“I will if she will,” Jensen responded, trying not to sound childish and failing miserably.
“You’re much older than she is, man,” Nero reminded him. J
ensen shook his head and turned his attention to the punching bags on the far wall.
“Ajax wants you to keep an eye on her,” Nero began. Jensen spun around, narrowing his eyes at his good friend. Nero just shrugged.
“No,” Jensen said.
“Something is up. Whatever it is, Isis might be in the middle of it. This Coop approached her, not any of the others. She might be important. We’re going to be busy helping the Monroes and Isis has been known to sneak out. Last time, she wound up in the middle of a full-blown assassin coup. She got lucky once and who knows if that luck will hold out. Please, Jensen,” Nero pleaded. Jensen rolled his neck, hoping to relieve some of the tension.
“I’ll think about it. But I think she is more than capable of taking care of herself.”
“Fine. Thank you.” Nero went quiet for a few moments. “So that’s my older brother’s daughter.”
“She definitely takes after her mother more.”
Nero chuckled and nodded in agreement. Jensen moved over to the boxing ring and leaned against it.
“It’s creepy though, isn’t it?” Nero continued as he moved over to lean against the ring next to Jensen.
Jensen frowned as he looked at Nero. “What is?”
“How much they look like Selene,” Nero responded. “I thought Lilly was exaggerating, but looking at them, you can see the resemblance.”
Jensen gave him a very skeptical look. Selene, one of the earliest night guardians, was said to be the most beautiful and bravest woman among humans, supernatural races, and guardians. She was also an important legend to both the shape shifters and the guardians. She had fallen during the War of the Meadows, but had been allowed to return to life. Selene had vanished shortly after, never to be seen or heard from again.
“I don’t see it,” Jensen said, shaking his head. “Their hair is much lighter and you’ve mentioned that their eyes do that weird thing where they change colors. They definitely look more like Passion.”
“You are such a nitpicker,” Nero laughed. Jensen shrugged and smiled. Upstairs the faint sound of footsteps signaled the mansion dwellers were going about their nightly routines.
Through Storm and Night (The Shape Shifter Chronicles Book 2) Page 12
