Twilight Sun (Cavaldi Birthright Book 4)

by Brea Viragh

  CHAPTER 17

  Elon kissed Aisanna and drew her in, making sure it was one they would both remember. There was no way he could forget the quiet, the scent of coffee in the air, and the way she leaned into him. The skill of her lips moving over his.

  “I can’t believe you’re back,” she murmured against him. “What is the last thing you really remember?”

  “The cabin,” he answered honestly. “You had left with Morgan to find the cave. The next thing I knew, I was in this clearing and Zelda Vuur was about to pummel some poor woman with a whip of fire. I’m not sure how I knew it was her, or that I had to do something to stop her, but I picked up the branch and moved. It was natural.”

  Tonight, he didn’t want to think about responsibilities. He didn’t want to think about obligations. It was time to be with Aisanna, because he knew enough to realize he’d been gone too long. His body felt the distance even if his mind couldn’t comprehend the blank spot.

  Elon smiled and brushed his lips over hers again. A third and a fourth time because he couldn’t get enough of her. “Try not to get caught up on the details.”

  “This time, I won’t. I’m happy you’re home.”

  “I’m happy to be here.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “What was Vane thinking, taking you? He has a bit of explaining to do.”

  “Are you planning on telling him off?” Elon moved closer to cage Aisanna in, his hands on either side of her. “You’re going to scold him?”

  “The first chance I get,” she agreed. “Although I’m happy he saved your life.” She placed her palm over his heart. “I’m sure that will be his excuse if we ever get to talk again.” Then she turned, taking pain to arch her back and bring her rear in contact with Elon’s hips. A tease. “I’ve been trying to do the cooking while you’re gone.”

  He leaned over her. “My hero. I’m sure you’ve done well.” He inhaled, then made a face. “Or maybe you have a lot to learn. You’ve certainly added a lot of onion to the salad.”

  “Onion is good for the digestion.” She turned over her shoulder, brushed her hair back, and shot him a slow smile. “If nothing else, when the shit goes down, our breath will be so bad it will scare everyone away.”

  “My lady, always thinking ahead. No, Aisanna, don’t cry. I’m sor—”

  “Please, don’t apologize again You came back. I thought you were gone.” Her gaze, a little wet, was still clear. Direct. “Don’t ever be sorry for fighting for us. We’re together, and I needed you here. God, I needed you so much.”

  Brock cleared his throat to announce himself. Embarrassed for having interrupted them in the first place. “I, ah, wondered if the deal with the coffee was still on the table. If not, then I’ll happily go off and make an ass of myself somewhere else.”

  Aisanna smiled but made no move to extricate herself from Elon’s arms. “Don’t be silly. The pot’s over there and it’s yours, my coffee soul brother. Not everyone appreciates caffeine the way we do.”

  Brock filled up his cup and watched everyone begin to congregate in the kitchen. Another family meeting, he knew. This time he’d seen too much to feel like an outsider. And if he did still feel the slightest inkling of it, he was too weary to care. Part of him wished his own family could be this open with their communication.

  Odessa wasn’t fearful of opening her mouth. She told you like it was without the slightest hesitation. His brothers, on the other hand…Brock had never met two more closed off men in his life. It made childhood difficult, when he wanted to talk to them about his day, his troubles, his highs. His highs and lows and everything in between. But Jack and Sampson had their own issues and kept whatever emotions they felt locked away.

  Brock fought hard not to be like them.

  The Cavaldi’s, for how little he knew them, seemed to be a group with quick and curious minds. Not to mention a knack for getting down to the nitty gritty. If there were secrets between them he would never know. They were open with each other.

  Soon enough Nasira came in from the terrace. Color was returning to her face and, he was happy to see, she wasn’t limping anymore. Her hands weren’t trembling. If anything, there was a rosy hint to her cheeks. It took some of the worry off of him, although they would have to do something about her burns. He remembered what Aisanna said about healing and wondered if it would be difficult to find a spell.

  He was supposed to be the protector, he thought sullenly. He was supposed to be the one who stepped in front and took the brunt of a blow. Instead, Nasira had stepped in front of him, and nearly gotten herself killed in the process.

  He would have never forgiven himself if something happened to her.

  She took the seat at the table next to him. Since it became apparent quickly that no one was leaving the room anytime soon, Aisanna and Elon brought refreshments in as everyone made themselves comfortable.

  “First thing’s first,” Karsia began. “Why did you take off like that? You just left!”

  “I apologize. I wasn’t in my right mind. And before you ask, yes, it was the voices in my head. I wasn’t wearing the stone and I’m sorry. I didn’t realize until I got back and saw it on the bed.”

  “It’s fine. Aisanna didn’t want to wear hers either, and she was branded with a location spell.”

  Nasira laced her hands in front of her on the table and set the girls with a leveling look. Taking the comment in stride. “It’s like I had no control over my thoughts. It kept playing on a reel. I was worthless. I didn’t belong. I would never belong.”

  “Of course you belong.” Karsia was adamant, her face severe.

  “It was Cecilia. I know now. It was her.” The shock had gone a long way toward clearing her head when she finally returned to her body. “And everyone needs to stop looking at me like I’m about to burst. She got to you, too, didn’t she?”

  “She did,” Astix agreed slowly, taking a seat at the head of the table, “and I’m wondering what her end game is this time. We’ve already done the possession bit. We’ve done the bad omens and the shadows and the stupid parlor tricks. What can she possibly want with us this close to the eclipse?”

  Morgan slid a pitcher of water across the table. “Here,” he told Nasira. “Have some water.”

  “I’m fine.” Still, she gulped the water down and wiped the wetness from her mouth. “I’m just trying to figure out some things. I’ve come into this a little later than usual and my conversation with Vane didn’t help.”

  “Tell us again.” Aisanna reached for the pitcher, poured, and took a deep drink. “I thought I heard you say you had a talk with Vane.”

  “He scared the hell out of me. I short circuited myself trying to take out Zelda—” and nearly losing— “and he materialized. He said…” Nasira gulped. “He said he took Elon before the Claddium attacked. It was the only way to save his life. They had kill orders.”

  The others were silent. She watched Aisanna’s hand tightened on Elon’s before the woman spoke. “What else did Vane say to you?”

  “He said the veil will tear for good the exact moment of the eclipse. Seven fifteen in the evening, two days from today. We’re supposed to go to 31st street beach in Chicago for the showdown. I have no idea why. Does anyone know where that is?”

  The girls nodded. “It’s downtown outside of Hyde Park,” Astix said.

  “A good place to confront Cecilia. Wide beach, open water. It’s still spring so there shouldn’t be many people there, if any at all,” Karsia put in.

  Nasira shook her head. “Vane told me Cecilia will only be part of the problem. There’s another important factor to consider. He said she’s found herself a soul to piggyback.”

  “Impossible. Herodotos is dead.” Astix was adamant.

  “It’s not Herodotos. It’s Orestes Voltaire. She has him believing he’s the Harbinger witch.”

  **

  Karsia healed the burns on her arm and hand and they spent the next several hours discussing strategy before Nasira decided she
’d had enough for the day. Her belly full and her heart empty and echoing, she decided a bath was in order. She’d make an event out of it and no one could force her to feel guilty for the tiny luxury. Normally she tried to stay away from baths on principle. They were a waste of water and as a veterinarian she cared not only about animal life but the environment as well.

  Tonight, she wanted the time away. To cry if she needed to. To redefine her image of herself more than likely.

  She commandeered Morgan’s bathroom without the tiniest kernel of guilt and lit a candle for ambience. Naked, her hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun, she slipped into the steaming water on a sigh. Aches and knots she hadn’t been aware of loosened after several minutes. Her skin prickled but it felt good. Deliciously good.

  She hummed her favorite song and pictured the hills from home in her mind. It helped, she thought with a sigh, sinking lowering into the water. It helped to think of something familiar. It helped to bask and let the hot water go to work. Savor the bliss of the moment.

  The last time she’d indulged in a long bath, her mother had been out of the house visiting a friend across town. Nasira was eighteen at the time and feeling frisky, her rebellious streak a mile wide. She invited Brock over after football practice. They made use of Neret’s jacuzzi tub with the jets. Soaking and loving each other and laughing when the jets hit them in unmentionable places.

  She growled and tried to erase the image, instead picturing Brock’s face on a punching bag. It was easier to slap and beat at him then, watch his expression melt from a shit-eating grin to shock. Yes, it suited her better. After all, hadn’t she had to step in today to save his ass?

  Tension slipped away little by little. This was exactly what she needed. A good face scrub—definitely not Morgan’s—and some bubbles to let her troubles pop away.

  Nasira wiggled her toes. Made a face at them. Then closed her eyes a final time and sunk down until the water hit her chin, letting her mind drift to a nature scene. Perfect and peaceful. And it was a relief to finally be alone. To know she was alone.

  Part of her wondered why she’d ever felt compelled to work so hard to be part of the group. To worry about what the others thought of her and what had to be done. All she wanted to do was be alone. To be herself. Was it too much to ask?

  She wanted her old world back. One where there were no surprises, no one to impress. A world that rarely changed where she knew the color and the texture of her days. A world where there was no heartache.

  She needed none of the upset. Her life spinning out of control. These people were nothing but problems and responsibilities. More baggage to add to her shoulders when it was simpler to live her life in solitude. Some would call it a rut. Brock certainly would. Nasira called it steadfast.

  With her head tilted back and eyes closed, she felt her lips curve in contentment.

  There were intonations in the distance. A murmur of sound far off. She fought to tune them out. Enjoy her time.

  Then she felt a finger tap against her shoulder.

  Shock turned her blood cold. When she tried to jerk up, she found her body had frozen in the water. Unable to move. Her heart jolted against her chest and at last she managed to pry her eyes open only to see a harsh weave of blackness had fallen over the rim of the tub. Tendrils reached out and twisted, spilling over the sides, reaching for her. It slid above the water and unfurled to lace around her knee.

  Fear flashed through her, terror bright and sharp. She couldn’t move and her ears buzzing like a thousand angry wasps.

  Breathless, Nasira fought against whatever force held her, the shadowy wisps razor-edged and snatching at her.

  At last we speak. The final Cavaldi sister.

  The tone sounded inside of her head, multiple voices layered over each other and speaking in different cadences. Different pitches. If Vane had been light in its purest form, this was surely his antithesis. Cecilia. Panicked eyes darted down to Nasira’s chest and found it bare. She’d left her necklace of protection upstairs on the nightstand. Again!

  What was wrong with her?

  She felt The One Who Walks in Darkness take her. The possession waiting to happen from the second she stepped out of her mother’s house those days ago. Finally knowing who her father was.

  Darkness took Nasira with pain for sheer spite. The room plunged into blackness and in the cold, a shadow spread over her and pain shocked her. Her bones were frozen in brutal cold. Thrust into a world where there was only pain.

  She wheezed for air and it felt like inhaling iron blades. She was alone, wanting to curl up and whimper.

  “Hello?” she called out. Then her voice was taken, too.

  There’s no need for you to talk. This is not a conversation as much as a prologue. I have no interest in using you for a vessel much longer.

  Unable to see or speak, Nasira fought an upsurge of vertigo. Her body didn’t belong to her anymore. Darkness throbbed around her, through her, blossoming in her midsection.

  Her stomach reacted to the invasion. This was her fault. She’d let the thing in by lowering her guard.

  It’s taken much to get you here. Starting with your father’s infidelity. You have a very robust mind, you know.

  Nasira wanted to scream. She refused to be kept a prisoner. If speech had been possible, she would have let loose a torrential string of curse words. Or maybe tears.

  Oh, don’t fret. Most of your choices have been your own. Just know you are where you’re meant to be. If you continue to make the right choices, we will meet soon, and you will see. It’s better this way.

  She gritted her teeth against the voice scratching her soul. She wanted to tell Darkness to find another instrument to play. To let her go and shove off. Anything other than sit there in the water, trapped in her head. Waiting.

  How much was real and how much was my influence, you wonder?

  The One Who Walks in Darkness chuckled, and it was a horrible sound.

  Nasira felt her essence splinter. It felt like the path she’d created for herself—one I thought I’d created and had been proud of—was nothing but a lie. A complicated string of events she was forced to experience, set out by someone else.

  You are bound to me. Daughter. The eclipse will be here soon, and with it, my freedom. Make the right choices, Nasira, and you will be rewarded. You want to be successful?

  A picture filled her mind. The day bright and sunny. Her quaint brick-clad veterinary clinic with a line out the door. It flashed to an image of herself in the exam room, a puppy in her arms and her appointment book filled.

  It can be yours. Do you want this man to be sorry for what he put you through?

  Again, the scene changed until it was Brock. Brock on his knees in front of her begging her to forgive him. His smile was there but it failed to reach his eyes. His hands were clasped at his chest and he inched forward until they touched.

  It was wrong. All of it was wrong. No matter how sweet the offering, Nasira knew it was a lie.

  Shouts came from the other room and dimly, in the distance, she could hear the sounds of fists pounding on the door.

  What’s wrong? Is he not to your liking? Would you like another?

  Brock’s face shifted until he became a stranger entirely. Another man. Another possibility.

  How about power? Is that what you want?

  The cold was replaced with heat until it felt like the fire was scorching her alive.

  I can give you power beyond imaging. When the veil tears…do not fight it. Understand?

  More shouts from the other room. Her ears popped with a sudden pressure change. The energy buzzing inside the room—inside of her—was supercharged.

  Would you like to see, instead, the night I became this thing? I can show you. If you prefer.

  Once more the scene in her head shifted. This time, she screamed. Unable to watch.

  Nothing was what it should be, Nasira thought abstractedly to herself. Survival mode kicked in and her brain churned.
It wasn’t like her to give up without a fight. To give up easily. She was a problem solver, wasn’t she? Time to focus and figure out a way to get the evil out. Surely, she could do something.

  Gathering whatever magic she had, whatever strength she could muster, Nasira made a choice. She plunged deeper and let the heat take her under. Something ripped inside of her, out of her, and her heart could hardly stand to beat. Gathering of her strength and will, she forced the demon out.

  Whoever was banging at the door managed to beat their way inside then. The overhead light flicked on with a blast and suddenly Nasira was back in the tub. She sloshed over the side, gasping, in time to see Aisanna rush into the room.

  Panicked, she let the other woman help her crawl out and for a moment they both simply sat on the bath mat. Nasira shivered, unconcerned with her nakedness as Aisanna ran a soothing hand over her damp hair and dripping skin.

  Cecilia had pulled her in. The dark one who challenged the fate of the world and hated what she’d become.

  Nasira wondered if she would ever be warm again.

  CHAPTER 18

  Teeth chattering, she forced herself to get up and grab a towel. Aisanna helped her wrap it around her torso and, without a word, escorted Nasira up to her bedroom. Suddenly the thought of being alone brought an added layer of fear. Her heart heaved in her chest and each footstep was less sure than the last. She stumbled on the last step and fumbled with the doorknob. Aisanna took her leave.

  It was too long before she managed to stop shivering. She gripped her hand firmly on her lap and felt rather than saw the shadows under her eyes. There was work to do, yes. Too bad the rest of her refused to cooperate.

  There was a hard rap on the bedroom door. Though she suspected who it was, Nasira still clutched a hand to her throat to trap the scream that began to build. She cursed herself for jumping out of her skin.

  “Brock, this is really not a good time,” she called out. Knowing it was better to be alone. She didn’t want him to see her like this. Not now. Not broken. “I need a little bit of me time. I’ve been an extrovert long enough today.”