by Harper Wylde
Ryder and Nix were home alone for their date, and it surprised me that I didn't feel jealous at all. I was curious—definitely curious—what the two of them were up to, and why we had been banished to the sleuth's property, but Damien had shut down the link, leaving only what he called an emergency button available if they called to him in a panic. Nix was sweetly trying to draw Ryder out of his depression, I was sure, but I missed my time with her. My Puca did too. He pressed up against me at the thought of her, wanting to return home to be cuddled and petted. I had spent more time in my Puca form in the last few weeks than I had in my entire life. He was greatly enjoying the freedom our new relationship offered, and I had wondered a bit if it was why I had finally dreamed.
My Puca was as nervous as I was about the dream, and any threat to his mate was a threat to him. He swirled inside of me, wanting to find answers, but unfortunately he was as unsure as I was, which surprised me.
Movement at my side caught my attention and I glanced toward the edge of the tree line, my nerves beginning to hum. I knew I had seen movement there, but I doubted anything would be a threat to me on the sleuth's property. I hesitated, debating calling out to Damien, but I decided that whatever it was I could handle it. If anything, it was probably Molly or Rini trying to get a look at why I was out here in the snow rather than inside where it was warm.
I pushed to my feet with a growl, shaking my head so the snow that had landed on me fell into the piles at my feet. I knew Nix was thrilled about the stuff, but even after all these years it wasn't something I found enjoyable. It was merely frozen water, nothing to get up in arms about.
I stalked toward the trees with my sketchbook in hand, and my gaze locked onto where I had seen movement. If it was Rini or Molly, they were going to get an earful. I had enough on my mind as it was without having to worry about someone watching me. Then a small glimmer of hope ran through me at the idea that maybe it was Ciarán trying to get in touch with me. It was completely feasible that he wouldn't want to discuss important topics over the phone, and he had been spending a lot of his time with Rini lately. Then again, Ciarán was far too good at hiding, as I had now found out, and I highly doubted he would have let me see him until he was right beside me.
Hurt bloomed inside of me, and I did my best to push it back. Logically, I understood why he hadn't told me about the rebellion or about his powers, but I couldn't help but feel a little bit betrayed. He was my brother, and even when he drove me crazy I had assumed he had my back. To know the huge secrets he was keeping from me, from everyone, was a complete and utter shock. It was hard to look at him as my annoying, numbskull of a brother when he was involved in something so dangerous. It made me wonder if I really knew him at all.
The shadows moved again and I stiffened, my Puca on high alert inside me as we stood still, scanning the shadows. I heard branches shift to my left, a product of my Puca's increased hearing, and I lunged quickly, grasping onto the figure hidden in the shadows and pulling them into the light.
“Zanoah?” I dropped her arm as if I’d been burned and stepped back. There wasn't any way to hide who she was, her looks were far too distinctive, though I had rarely had a chance to see her at anything more than a distance. I flung my connection to Damien and the others open wide, letting them see everything. If she decided to erase whatever memories we were about to form, I didn't think it would affect Damien's link.
“Killian,” she greeted me breathlessly, her dark eyes wide in her pale face.
Careful. Damien and Theo hissed the warning at the same time, but I knew they wouldn't dare charge out here and interfere. We needed to see what she was doing—and what she knew—and couldn't take the risk of her wiping all of us at the same time.
“What do you need, Zanoah?” I asked, sticking my sketchbook into the back of my jeans. My Puca was going crazy inside of me, and it was taking half of my focus to control him. There was something about the Baku that set him completely on edge.
“I needed to speak to you. Away from everyone else.” Her long hair fell over her face, but she didn’t bother tugging it away.
“I think this is about as ‘away’ as we're going to get,” I pointed out, indicating the distance to the cabins with a wave of my hand.
“I...” She stumbled on her words and my eyebrows shot up. I didn't think I'd ever seen her stumble on anything before. As a Baku, she was one of the most feared creatures in our society, able to strip our minds completely. That lent a sense of power that led to little flexibility.
The snow fell around us silently, and I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to keep some of the heat inside of me. I was definitely regretting staying outdoors at this point. “Did you need help with something?” I prompted, hoping to get her moving again.
“I saw your dreams,” she said rapidly, half burying her face in her coat. The jacket, her waterfall of hair, and even the cold, weren't enough to hide the flush that worked over her cheeks.
I blinked, confused. “I don't dream.” I told her with a shrug. “Ask the Council. They've monitored me for it since I was a boy.”
“You dreamed when you first got here,” she pointed out, and my eyes widened at the depth of her knowledge.
“How did you...”
“What do you know about the baku, Killian?” she inquired, her eyes still turned away with the flush of scarlet staining her cheeks.
“Uh, just what most do, I guess. You can mess with minds.” I kept my emotions in check, my mind away from the night of the Gala.
You're doing well. Theo reassured me. Just let her lead.
It's not a fucking dance. I shot back, nerves pricking at my temper.
“Do you know why there are so few baku left?” she asked quietly, the snow muffling her whispering voice.
I shrugged. “Some of our species are just dying out. It happens. If you want a scientific answer on that, I'm not the one to come to. I do planes, not science. You'd want to nab Theo or Ryder for it.”
She scowled for a moment, before the expression slid away. “It's you I want to talk to, Killian. It's you I've always wanted to talk to.”
“Huh?” I had absolutely no idea what that meant.
“I know you have feelings for the Phoenix.” Her quiet words sent a shard of fear shooting through me, the ice filling my veins no longer from the chill in the air. “I've watched you for years, you know. So many years. I waited, yet you've never seen me, not really. When you met her, your dreams began to fill with color and energy and hope…”
“I don't know what you mean,” I replied softly, shifting my stance. I could feel the tension of the others radiating down our connection. “And like I said, I don't dream.”
“And isn't that odd?” she replied, cocking her head, still staring into the distance. “An extremely powerful Puca who never dreams—ever. Your illusion powers keep getting stronger, but your dreams just disappeared.” Her eyes finally turned to mine, surprising me with their watery sheen, even as she spoke in her same placid tone while she studied me. “What most people don't realize about bakus, about why my kind is basically extinct, is how we feed. We can eat food to sustain our bodies, but it does nothing for our minds—our powers. And the more we use our powers, the more we need sustenance to sustain them. We feed on dreams, Killian, and not just any dreams. I can eat the dreams of any one of your friends and I'll stay just on the edge of starving. It's enough to get me to the next meal, but only that. If I continue to use my powers, I'll collapse, my mind eventually giving out.”
“And?” I knew the word was harsh, but I wasn't sure what else I could exactly say to her. It was definitely unfair that her species had been given that burden, but there wasn't anything I could do to change that.
“We need the dreams of prophesiers, Killian.” Her dark eyes glittered as she stared at me. “The power that they contain. That power is what we need to survive. Power like what you have.”
“What I have?” I gasped. My Puca was fighting hard to push to the fron
t now, and sparks of light danced amongst the snowflakes, adding full-fledged color to the pristine white landscape.
“Of course.” She arched a brow before her eyes pulled away from mine again, color mantling her cheeks as she twisted the ends of her hair. “You remember flashes of them I'm sure—bits of image or color. It's hard to get everything at times, especially if you're woken abruptly. You'll usually keep the tail end of your dream before I'm able to consume it. It's not pleasant to have my meals interrupted.”
“You're...” I could feel my friends’ shock radiating through me, each of them as speechless as I. Even inquisitive Theo hadn't begun peppering questions at me. “You're telling me that I really do have prophesy dreams and you've been consuming them for years? Because you need them?”
She shrugged a slender shoulder, turning her head away as she blinked rapidly to clear her eyes of the emotion she'd let sneak into her usually unshakable nature. “That about sums it up. As I said, I'd most likely die without them. Prophecy is not a common gift, as you're well aware. And though I do not need to have an actual connection with someone to seek their dreams, the same way a dreamwalker would, it makes it far easier for me to find my meals.”
“For all this time? I mean, you're, what, eighteen, nineteen years old?”
She chuckled though the sound lacked humor. “Trust you not to notice, despite us growing up nearly on top of each other. My mother was dying when she brought me here. She hoped that the Council would know of a way to save me, possibly even a way to save her. My powers had only just begun to appear, so I had time yet before they began to drain me.”
Irritation and indecision rippled through me. “You could die of this even as a kid?”
“Of course. Many of our kind don't survive past the time our powers arrive. The only reason my mother made it is because there was a prophet in the tribe she joined, but his powers were nothing like yours. She was always weak, always hungry and drained.” She shifted, wrapping her arms tightly around herself. “Like you, this wasn't my original home. My mother found a home amongst others of our kind in a small province in China. While she bore other children, none of them survived very long past the arrival of their powers. Then our prophet died. Mother was aware she did not have much time, and using the last of her strength, we arrived in Alaska to seek the help of the Council. She made a deal with them, you see. You had arrived not long before that, a scared little boy who still dreamed of his family and returning to see them one day. I was just a little younger than you. My powers, like yours, had appeared early.”
“What deal did she make?” My voice was hard, my hands numb from how tightly I was squeezing my fists.
“When the Council told her that they did have a prophet, she was ecstatic at first. She believed that maybe we could both thrive here. But there wasn't enough for us both. Your dreams were strong, yes, but not strong enough to sustain a full-grown Baku and one growing one. She sacrificed herself for me. The Council took control of me, and she left, wasting away over time.”
“I'm sorry for your loss, but why was I never...” I trailed off, swallowing hard to control the furious words that wanted to rip from my throat in a scream.
“At first you were so young, they were able to justify it.” She rocked back and forth, her fingers returning to mindlessly twisting and braiding the ends of her hair. “Then, the Council began to realize you spoke of your home less and less. I was consuming those thoughts, taking them upon myself, making you easier to control.” I hissed, but she continued as though she hadn't even heard me. “I'm sure you can see how that was useful for the Council.”
“Why are you telling me this?” I spat the words at her. “Did the guilt become too much for you?”
“In a way,” she admitted. “I've wanted to tell you for years. Sharing your dreams every night, it was impossible for me not to gain a connection to you. You see, I don't just consume your dreams. I see them—feel them—live them as though I’m experiencing them myself, much like you would if I didn’t feed off of them. It made me very useful, I was able to warn the Council of anything you foresaw while still sustaining myself, ensuring that my bloodline did not extinguish itself entirely. But because dreams are a part of you, an analysis of what you've seen or felt, I grew… ” She hesitated before adding, “Close to you. The Council decided it was for the best to keep us apart.”
“So what are you going to do now?” I asked, though a worm of guilt worked its way into me. “It's not like I can say I want you to keep eating my dreams.” My Puca railed against me, flaring angry red sparks over and over as he agreed with me, furious at the violation as well as the resulting dismissal of his own powers through the years. If what she was saying was correct, then if I insisted on her no longer eating my dreams, I may as well kill her myself right here—she'd end up dying anyhow.
“I knew it would come to a head at some point. There was only so long I could avoid the issue.” She shrugged again, the movement jerky as she twirled her fingers over and over through inky strands of hair. “Your visions have gotten darker and darker as you've aged, more and more violent.” I thought of the flashes I remembered, of blood and pain that haunted my drawings, my latest dream about Nix flashing through my mind. “I've had to be more and more selective about what I told the Council, in case something came back on me. But now...”
“Now what?” I snapped, grateful that Nix was home with Ryder rather than here with me.
“It's interesting seeing your own death through another set of eyes.” The conversational way she said it had me reeling.
“I—you—death?” I was happy that my voice didn't squeak while I stuttered.
“Death,” she affirmed, that one word holding more emotion in it than our entire conversation. “I won't be of use anymore. Not once they realize that I haven't shared everything with them. I'll be far more useful in the same capacity my mother was in.”
“And what capacity is that?” I questioned, unsure if I wanted the answer.
“As a reproductive tool. You've seen the island, of course. They should have no trouble keeping my body stable, not that they'd really need it. They have other shifters who can perform mindwipes, though probably not as efficiently as I can.” There was no pride in her words, and the calm certainty of them was more chilling than the Alaskan air.
“The island?” Footsteps sounded behind me as Theo and Damien jogged up, flanking me on both sides. It was Theo who had spoken. Apparently unwilling to channel their questions and thoughts through me, my friends had made the executive decision to join me. I was sure Hiro was probably adjoining us in the shadows of the woods somewhere, ready and able to manipulate the trees around us should things take a darker turn.
“Of course. I can’t deny that it does have its uses. We have ensured bakus will never completely disappear from the world—or, at least, not for a long time. But the genetic games that they have played will have more consequences than they can even begin to know. Though I'm sure you'll see that in time—your dreams hint at enough of it.”
“Why are you telling us this?” Damien snapped, with enough of his alter bleeding through that I could see the start of wings tearing through the shoulders of his shirt.
“Because I want to help. At least as much as I can. I don't have much longer in this world—there is only so much about a prophecy that can be altered. And, even without the Council's interference, I have come to my own decision.” Her eyes sought out mine and sorrow, and something else I couldn't quite identify in the gloom, sparkled there. “I can't eat from you any longer. I will no longer be a parasite. It is not the life I chose. I’ve done things… things I cannot atone for, but during the time I have left, I’d like to make amends. Then I will end things my way—when and where I choose rather than at their perverted hands. But I can arm you as much as I possibly can before that happens.”
“So you want to share secrets?” Theo's voice was skeptical.
She tilted her head side to side. “Partially.” Sh
e hesitated before adding, “There is one more thing I am able to do, but it will require an act of trust on your parts.”
“And what is that?” Damien asked quietly. I wasn't sure if he voiced the question because Zanoah's shields were so strong, or he simply didn't want to waste energy and time on searching her mind.
“I can restore your mate's memories.”
Ten
Hiro
Dragging my feet up the stairs, I tried to fight off the weariness I was feeling. The only thing I wanted to do was crawl into bed with Nix and Ryder, and share in the peacefulness I knew they were experiencing in each other’s arms. The three cups of coffee I’d had only served to wake up my mind, while my muscles still felt sluggish.
Heading to the bathroom, I took a quick, steamy shower in hopes that it would wake me further. I was a college student, for fuck’s sake. Pulling all-nighters was part of the job description.
I stood in front of the mirror staring at my reflection past the steam that curled over the glass, fogging it up from the drastic temperature change in the room. Tense shoulders, dark circles, and worried eyes were reflected back at me. Sighing, I ran my hand through my hair, combing my dark strands before I grabbed my brush and styled my hair so it would dry to my preferred look.
With my towel wrapped firmly around my waist, I left the bathroom behind and stepped into the hallway. Four strides later, I found myself pausing outside of Ryder’s room. The scent of Nix and Ryder’s pleasure permeated the air this close to the doorway, and I drew it deep into my lungs, rumbling with approval just as much as my Kitsune was doing within in my head.
