by Brea Viragh
The other two reserved their judgement on her. The one with the nose rings inclined her head with a certain air of aloofness.
Even though her nerves were jumping, Karsia kept her energy high and her speech even. “This is exciting. I never imagined we would have another sister.”
“I never imagined you would accept it so easily.”
Over Karsia’s shoulder, Nasira and Astix made eye contact. She recognized the distrust in the other woman’s eyes. Someone who had been through too much to open her heart easily.
Oddly enough, Nasira appreciated the sentiment. It felt easier than immediate acceptance. Especially since it was getting harder and harder to hold her smile in place.
“We’ll have a hot meal ready for both of you in no time,” Karsia went on to say, introducing herself to Brock and drawing him down into a hug as well. “Of if you’d prefer to rest, we have plenty of space upstairs. Sharing a bedroom?” She moved back, stared from Brock to Nasira, and clasped her hands happily against her chest. “God, you guys are cute together. I hope you don’t mind me saying.”
Nasira cleared her throat, posture wilting. “We’re not together.”
“One room is fine,” Brock said at the same time.
Astix set her teeth. She should be used to it by now. The family discords. The surprises popping up one right after the other. Then she chastised herself for being too distant, too curt. It took effort to get her shoulders to relax.
“How about we give you both a little alone time? I’m sure this is a lot to take in.” She tried to toss a smile to Nasira. Negotiating treacherous emotional waters.
Nasira snatched up the out. “Sure. Brock and I can just grab our stuff and go upstairs, if you don’t mind. It really has been a long day.”
“I’m sure.” Astix was at a loss for safe topics of conversation, anyway. Too much time spent deliberating on the best way to stop a magical, murderous immortal.
Brock took hold of their luggage and hurled it over his shoulder. His grin was genuine, if a little frayed at the edges. “We will be back down shortly. She just…she doesn’t process change well.” He kept his voice soft.
“Brock, stop it,” she admonished through her teeth.
“Sorry. Let me show you to an empty room.” Morgan jumped up from his comfortable perch against his desk.
Astix watched them go. Letting out a gust of stale air when the last person left the room.
Karsia rounded on her instantly. “Could you two be any ruder?”
“Don’t look at me,” Aisanna said, holding her hands up in front of her. “I’m reserving judgement. You know I can’t process things well at the moment.”
“And you? What’s your excuse? Maybe this is the final key. You think about that?”
A key, or another one of Darkness’s shifty tricks.
Astix’s answer was a hiss of sound and she studied Karsia through a narrow-eyed gaze. “We’ve been fighting off Darkness for two months. Two months. And all of a sudden, less than a week before the eclipse, when everyone is going out of their minds from leaking magic, she shows up? It doesn’t make any sense. Why would she come now?”
“Because—”
“I don’t care what you say, Karsia, because it doesn’t make sense. And Dad cheating on mom?” Astix scoffed. “He had no reason to. No, it can’t be true.”
“We don’t know what dad did in the past,” Aisanna replied, “but look at her. She has our eyes. Her energy signature feels the same as mine. The same as yours. I don’t need a blood test to know she’s a Cavaldi.” She didn’t sound happy about it.
“The least you can do is give her a chance to tell her side of the story,” Karsia insisted.
“Hey, don’t gang up on me. I’m trying to be the voice of reason. She’s our sister, fine. I don’t doubt her or you. But the timing is suspicious, and after everything—” Astix held up a finger to stop the stem of words Karsia was about to let loose— “ah ah! After everything we’ve gone through, I’d think you two would be a little more open to the possibility of Cecilia’s influence. That’s what I’m saying.”
Aisanna took a moment to consider, slowly nodded her head. “I’m with you.” At Karsia’s outraged look, she sighed. “I’m saying we need to proceed with caution. And I’d think you would understand why. Then I remember, you’re the one who likes to forge ahead and jump in without thinking about possible consequences. It’s what got you into trouble in the first place.”
Astix took control of the situation by holding up a fist. “I have a plan. We give her a few minutes to settle down. Get her bearings. I’m sure this isn’t easy on her.” She could understand. “Then we’ll sit down and have a long talk. The four of us alone. Sound good?”
The words sounded strange coming out of her mouth. There had always just been four of them. Now there were five. Five Cavaldi siblings. Her twin brother Zenon was still trapped in the Vault, a prison run by the Claddium. A place where, once you went in, you didn’t return.
Thinking about the Claddium brought a swift and lethal wave of sadness. She thought of her boyfriend, her Leo, who used to work for the organization before he’d disappeared the night their cabin was set on fire.
She hadn’t stopped looking. She would never stop looking. Not until she found some kind of clue about what happened to the man she loved. In her heart, she knew he wasn’t dead. Wherever he was, it was just as bad as being dead. His energy signature had disappeared from the earth.
Instead of finding Leo, a fifth sibling had found them. It was too good to be true. It was destiny, some may say. Kismet or serendipity or providence. There was only one problem.
Astix had stopped trusting fate.
Karsia glanced at the clock. “I’ll get dinner ready. We’ll eat in a half hour. Sound good?”
Astix nodded. Best suggestion she’d heard in a long time.
CHAPTER 10
Orestes Voltaire clenched his hand at his side until his veins stood out against pale skin. “Where are they?” he asked, tone smooth as silk and deadlier than poison gas.
His personal assistant was a slight girl. Average. Easily replaced, he reminded himself for the umpteenth time. If she failed to get the necessary results this time, then he would sever the chain and bring in someone else. Someone more competent.
She cringed whenever his tone shifted. The slightest provocation set her off until she shook in her boots. A little mouse, he thought. A mouse with ashy hair and too large glasses, turning her eyes into great wide orbs. He hardly took notice of her anymore unless he needed something he refused to get himself. Kelsi was good at blending in and appearing when he wanted her. A snap of his fingers bringing her forward, cowering.
Anger swelled when she failed to answer his question. “I asked where they are!” He slammed his fist down on his desk and was rewarded when she jumped.
Trembling fingers pushed her bangs out of her face. “I’m doing my best. The girls are off the radar, sir. No one has been able to find them.”
He slowly straightened. “We burned their hideout. It’s impossible they’ve found another hole. I would know.”
Just like a Cavaldi. They may present a stoic and strong face to the rest of the magical community, but Orestes recognized them for what they were. Rats.
“We can’t find them,” Kelsi insisted.
“Then we snuff them out.”
“We what, sir?”
“We snuff them out. We have bait, remember?” It was clear. She didn’t grasp his meaning. It wouldn’t be the first time. Orestes ran a hand through his closely cropped gold hair and fought the urge to strangle someone. Anyone. Preferably the useless twit across the room. “Kelsi, run down to the Vault and grab my son.”
“You’re letting Leo go?”
“Oh, it’s Leo now?” His eyes widened and his voice, normally saccharine sweet, turned hard.
“I apologize.”
“Grab my son,” he snapped. He walked across the room until he stood directly beside he
r, so close he could see his breath ruffling her hair. “We’re making a public appearance. I will draw them out.”
Her answer came hesitantly. If he hadn’t been paying attention, he might have missed it. “If I may, sir, offer a suggestion. Something that will enable us to accomplish more without going public?”
“You have nothing to say I want to hear. Unless it’s a solution to my problems.”
“I may have stumbled across some new information. The contacts you sent out…they found someone. A mental dominant.”
“Herodotos is dead,” Orestes bit out. “You know this.”
“He is, yes, but this woman is very much alive. And she was in possession of some rather interesting news. About Thorvald Cavaldi,” she said.
He snapped his head up. “Go on.”
Kelsi stuttered, trying to get her bearings, suddenly afraid. “I, ah, s-s-spoke to her myself several days ago. It seems Thorvald Cavaldi was not always faithful to his wife. There was a period of time where they came to a mutual decision to separate and he…h-he found someone else, Sir. He left his marriage bed and fathered another child.”
Orestes curled his lip at her, his face twisted in disgust. If the news were true it would be a game changer. He highly doubted someone of Kelsi’s stature would have the means or the access to such information otherwise. “And how, might I ask, did this mental dominant come into such information?”
“I’m n-n-not sure, sir. She wasn’t willing to tell me. She did h-however tell me the name of his illegitimate child.”
“Impossible,” Orestes said sternly. “There cannot be a fifth Cavaldi bastard. I would know of it. How could I not know?”
“She was hidden by her mother, from what I understand, who is a descendant of the priestesses of ancient Egypt.”
“You expect me to believe…Thorvald Cavaldi cheated on his wife…with a priestess’ descendant?” He reached out and allowed his hand fall on her shoulder.
Kelsi swallowed and tried to shift away, but his fingers dug in and held her in place. “If this mental dominant can be trusted. Yes.”
Well. Well. Well. This certainly added a new aspect to the game. Orestes squeezed once more before releasing his assistant. “Bring her to me.”
“The dominant, sir?” Kelsi flushed.
His blood began to sizzle. “The girl, you ignorant halfwit! Get me the Cavaldi daughter. Immediately.”
This was proving to be more interesting than he gave the situation credit for. They would find the fourth girl, he assured himself. Whether she came to him dead or alive, he’d simply stopped caring. But he had to know. He had to look at her and see for himself what Thorvald had done. And he would punish her for getting in the way, punish her for the deception and the inconvenience.
CHAPTER 11
Nasira flopped on the bed and felt like a rag doll. “They hate me.”
“They don’t hate you,” Brock answered automatically.
“Well, they don’t trust me. Which is almost as bad.”
She breathed deeply and thought about how wonderful it would feel to be back home. To look out on her gardens, let her eyes wander over the green hills and imagine how they would look in the summer. In the fall, when the trees were in full, magnificent display. Her daydream was interrupted when her gaze landed on Brock trying to hold back a laugh. He looked so damn pleased with her anxiety.
What was it about him that made her want to growl and huff off? Had she always been this uptight? No, she thought, catching the glint of humor in his eyes and remembering how she used to love seeing it come to life there. She remembered the touch of his hand on her skin and knew she hadn’t always been uptight around him. It must be a new addition to her innate characteristics.
“Will you stop giggling at me?” she demanded. “You’re going to aggravate me, and I’m already dealing with a lot.”
She spoke tersely and Brock stifled a laugh. It wouldn’t do to make her any more upset than she already was. “If the positions were reversed, would you blindly accept a stranger who comes into your home? Especially during a crisis? You can’t blame them for the way they reacted. In fact, I think most of them reacted rather admirably, if you ask me. You would have chewed them up and spit them out for the cats to eat.”
“No, I wouldn’t.” Her brow lifted. “You’re right, okay? But I’m allowed to wallow. This is one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done.”
“Worse than calling off a meaningful relationship with yours truly?” Deliberately Brock turned and leveled his gaze on her.
“You’re not making the situation better,” she replied.
“I’m finding the light at the end of the tunnel. You should be happy.”
Nasira crossed to a wardrobe and drew open the doors, grabbing her suitcase from where Brock had dropped it and setting it inside the empty space. She wanted a shower. She wanted to change her clothes. And she wanted to go home. Only two of those would be possible for the next however long. “Keep your light and your tunnel. I’m being practical.”
“Naz, take a deep breath.” Brock sat on the bed and folded his hands on his lap.
“Don’t talk to me like I’m your child.”
“Then stop acting like one. Honestly.” He paused, looking confused at her dissatisfaction. “I know this isn’t normal, and I know nothing is going the way you planned. But it’s life. It’s messy. And we deal with it. If I didn’t know any better I’d say whatever is going on has seriously scrambled your eggs.” He pointed to her head.
“The sage wisdom of Brock Lockhart. I’d forgotten how bossy you are when you think you’re right about something.”
She had to be dreaming. She couldn’t be standing here in a closet-sized spare bedroom having a conversation with Brock. It wasn’t right. Her eyes snapped closed and she pressed the palms of her hands against them before vigorously rubbing her face.
“What do we do?”
A sweet voice called up the staircase. “Dinner time, you two!”
Brock turned to stare at her. “It seems now we go down and have dinner. My stomach is empty. I’m not sure how you feel.” He shrugged when she aimed a warning glare at him.
“I wasn’t going to say anything, just because I can hear your stomach from across the room,” she replied.
“Then let’s go eat. I’m hungry and there’s no good reason for us to keep hiding in the room. Lord knows we haven’t gotten to talk.”
She strode past him in a huff. “Because there’s nothing to say, Brock.”
“As you wish.”
They took several minutes to straighten up. Change into clean clothes and wash in the small but tidy powder room down the hall. The house was tight, she thought, but rehabbed well, the Victorian turned duplex showing its age with style. She hadn’t known Morgan long, but the home fit him.
Brock followed her closely down the stairs and to the left, along a narrow hallway into a galley style kitchen so common in those old homes.
The oldest sister was standing in front of the stove with a long wooden spoon in her hand. Nasira noticed the flicker of a frown before Aisanna forced her face into a smile.
“It’s not you,” the woman finally said in an attempt to explain herself. “My boyfriend used to do the cooking for us. He, ah, he’s gone. In the cabin fire Astix mentioned. Did she mention it? If not…I guess I just brought it up.”
The mysterious Elon. Nasira put the two pieces of information together. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. We’ll find him. Eventually. At the moment, we have a few bigger things to think about, even though he’s always on my mind.” Aisanna turned her attention back to the stew pot and her vigorous stirring. “Why don’t you guys have a seat at the table and I’ll be in there shortly. The others are already waiting.”
Nasira wondered if it was something about Aisanna’s nature that had her shoulder responsibility with supposed ease, or if it had something to do with being the oldest. Having experienced the joys of growing up an only chi
ld, Nasira couldn’t say for certain.
They made it through dinner with the barest minimum required awkward silences. Brock, she noticed, was a natural. It harkened back to his days on the high school football team. Or maybe the fact that he had two brothers. He was used to being on a team, to juggling the conversation between multiple people. He was the happy go lucky guy who made friends with everyone. Not just his team mates.
He had friends scattered across all walks of life and charmed her sisters into smiles. He bonded with Morgan. Even helped to calm her irregular heartbeat when her nerves made her too anxious to focus on the food despite the ache in her stomach.
It made her sick.
Still, when she took the time to admit it, she was profoundly grateful he’d agreed to come. Not agreed, per say, but had been persuaded to come by his grandmother. And she was glad she hadn’t forced him to remain at home or shrugged off his offer to accompany her. He was the friendly face in the room. The one element she knew how to handle, how to react to.
She couldn’t have handled dinner with half his grace and poise.
Afterward, Aisanna gestured for Nasira to follow them into a rear parlor. Brock and Morgan offered to clean and leave the rest of them alone in relative peace and quiet.
The three sisters were already a unit, she mused as she watched them, feeling more than a little discouraged. How could she ever hope to be on equal ground with them?
She shook her head at the thought. Where had that come from? She didn’t need to prove something or compete to be an equal. She was already good enough.
They moved into the small family space off the kitchen and Karsia shut the pocket door behind them. Cutting them off from the rest of the house. Nasira stood near the window and looked out at the night sky wishing she could be outside instead of cooped up.
“Please, try to make yourself comfortable.” Astix was clearly the token speaker of the group.
“I’m going to level with you all,” Nasira answered, refusing to tear her gaze away from the night. “I’m about as far from comfortable as a person can get.” She forced herself to move to the loveseat and sit as close to the edge as possible.
