The Covenant of Shadows Collection
Page 60
Gabrian’s eyes widen as the stone flares in a quick burst of iridescent light then darkens again. She twists her mouth as she watches the strange manifestation of the metal. Seeing it twist and bind protectively around the precious stone it is sworn to, Gabrian’s heart drops in her chest knowing what this means.
It will not accept her. It is only meant for one.
Refusing to believe that she went through all this trouble to get it to Rachael for nothing, she holds the defensive stone within her hands, staring down at it angrily. “Ah! You have to help me. I know you can…help me…help her.”
Hearing the minds of the watchers outside begin to stir from Gabrian’s forced delirium, her heart leaps into her throat. Panic swirls around her, making her aura flare out tinted with slivers of violet and iridescent white. Grabbing the hem at the bottom of her shirt, Gabrian pinches the edge and pulls hard, ripping the material into a frayed strand of cloth. Pulling hard again, she rips it free then slips the edge in around a loosened coil of metal.
She can feel the watchers waking, their thoughts more lucid and clear.
“If you won’t help me the way I want, then I will ask you to protect her as you have me,” Gabrian whispers to the stone, placing it against her lips and lets the words slip out around it, encasing it with her plea. “I know you are listening. I know you can hear me. I know I don’t deserve anything for doing this to her…but she does, so please just help her find her way home.”
The noise outside is more than just inside her head. Someone is coming. Gabrian quickly stretches herself out to hover over Rachael. She reaches in behind her head, gently coaxing Rachael’s hair out of the way, and ties the contraption around her neck, tucking it discreetly under her Johnny-shirt and hiding it from sight.
The handle of the door clicks and Gabrian throws herself across the room to slink within the shadows behind the door, waiting motionless for it to open. Hearing the footsteps of both of the watchers enter the room, inspecting the premises, Gabrian presses her luck one more time and sneaks into their minds to force the clouds to cover their sight once more and touches their consciousness, asking it to surrender to her will, to believe she is not there and invisible to them. Gabrian leaps out from the shadows and slips through the narrow crack in the doorway, fading into the emptiness of the corridor beyond.
Finding nothing out of the ordinary, the watchers turn and exit the room, leaving it dark and without disruption, nothing but the steady monotone beeping of Rachael’s heart monitor to keep her company. Nothing at all—except Gabrian’s gift hidden beneath the cloth hospital gown, resting gently upon her chest.
A blinding flare lights the room for only a second from beneath Rachael’s cloak, casting a faint iridescent glow to wash over her skin that ripples and runs over the entirely of her form. The heart rate monitor spikes with a sharp pitch in one long shrieking beat then settles again into its irritating squeak, the magic spent and the room once more as it was—empty.
43
UNNATURAL SHOW OF KINDNESS
Hurrying to the darkest corner she can find, and as quickly as she can, Gabrian tucks herself into a ball upon the cold ceramic tiles within the darkest part of the closet, her skin burning from beneath as the massive surge of adrenaline expires in her quick attempt to get away. With her arms wrapped securely around her head, her body tremors in the wake of the tears that have welled their way back into her eyes, drowning her once again in the sorrow of her sins.
“She will be all right.” A familiar voice breaks through her silent breakdown, jarring her from the grip of her own internal war, and causes her to jump straight into defence mode knowing that she has broken the rules again.
Raising her arm, Gabrian swipes at her eyes, trying to remove the layer of water blurring and interfering with her sight of the Elder before her as she prepares to be scolded by him. But once her view clears, she notices his eyes are not cold. They do not carry the harsh hateful glare that he usually bestows upon her when they meet. A soft concern lies within his gaze that meshes with the gentle tone in his voice.
“I am sorry,” she stammers out, her words rushed. She recedes in her battle stance and stands upright before him. “I know I am not supposed to be here unless...” She continues searching for help that she knows will not come.
Cimmerian raises his arm and waves his hand at her. “Enough. I am not here to turn you in,” he says, ceasing his wave, and returns his hand to its tucked position behind his back. “I am here to speak with you about another matter—one of actual importance to me.”
Her eyes desist their futile search and quiet, resting upon her Elder, confused and wondering what on earth, other than her breaking the rules again, he could possibly want to discuss with her. “Oh…of course,” she says, biting gently on the tip of her thumb but removes it, knowing it is a show of her weakness. “What is it?”
Washing a hand lightly over her small form, Cimmerian casts a wave of violet and black spindled light to spin rapidly around Gabrian, causing her to appear as nothing more than a ghost in the hall. He smiles down at her. The cruel and heartless man she has come to know is no longer there. She sees a glimpse of a younger soul that once walked this Realm, filled with warmth and kindness—a stranger to her. So much that it causes the hair on the back of her neck to rise. “It’s merely a cloaking spell to hide you from unwanted eyes,” he offers, stepping away from the darkened corner they stand in. “I need to discuss something with you, an offer, and I cannot very well do that if we are interrupted by pleasantries, now can I?”
She follows behind him, and nods her head in agreement, looking back over her shoulder reflexively. “No, I suppose not. Thank you,” she offers, still wary of his sudden and unnatural show of kindness toward her.
“Rumour has it that you have developed the gift of the Derkaz Fellowship,” he says, continuing his trek down the empty corridor, hands tucked neatly together behind his back again. “Is this correct?”
Gabrian hurries her stride to walk beside him and turns to him. “Yes, I don’t know how I…it just happened. When the Gargons came to take…” Her words catch in her throat, ceasing the continuation of her confession.
“Yes, quite a display, so I have heard.” Cimmerian turns his head to glance down at her, trying to care and show a convincing expression of concern for the youngling obviously terrified for her life. “You know, Gabrian, having the gift of Darkness is no easy burden to carry but as you have witnessed, it is at times its own miracle.”
She remains silent, listening and reliving the horror of that day—understanding the message he delivers to her as they walk the halls of the hospital, nearing its exit to the outside world.
“I am offering to help you,” Cimmerian says, halting his movements, and gazes down at her with kind, yet unsettling eyes to hide something she cannot seem to put a finger on. “With such a sudden and strong show of magic, a gift this potent would be best molded under an experienced hand, a teacher per se, such as myself.”
Gabrian’s face contorts involuntarily, a show of her confusion in his proposal to help. Tucking her bottom lip between her teeth, and willing her mouth to hold any inappropriate comments that may spew out and get her into trouble, Gabrian forces a smile at the Elder then lets the tension in her jaw release just enough to let out a simple acknowledgement. “I don’t know what…”
Holding his hand up, halting her words, Cimmerian presses a smile again. “You do not have to answer right now,” he offers, slipping closer to the door, causing it to slide open and let in the cool night air to mix with the stale smell of chemical infused oxygen within the hospital walls. “Consider it. When you are ready to discuss it, come find me. We shall converse again,” the Elder finishes, dipping his head to her once then slips out the door.
Shaking her head with the realization of the magnitude of his offer, Gabrian rushes through the door behind him and calls out to say thank you. The violet and black tendrils of magic that were woven loosely around her form l
et go of their duty, unmasking her attendance to any onlookers in the vicinity, and return to their master as he steps within a swirling veil of purple rain, disappearing into the night.
Unveiled, and out without her guardian in front of the very place she is not supposed to be anywhere near, Gabrian hurries to her car and slips inside. Wanting to go home, but not wanting to see the pity in Shane’s eyes that he has been wearing since everything happened, or feel the guilt of trapping him inside his precious moments of rest, Gabrian grips the steering wheel and stares out across the sky, watching as the cover of night recedes, and longs for a place to find a moment of comfort. She ponders going to the office, but she left the key at home and the thought of running into Ethan right now twists her stomach into knots. She can’t face him just yet, but she needs to talk to someone—someone who might understand, someone who always seems to understand without the pity party.
Looking down at her watch and seeing the time, the edge of her mouth curls up just for a moment. She slips her key into the ignition and brings her car’s engine to life, heading for the perfect place to hide out that just happens to serve coffee.
44
BITTERSWEET COMPANY
The warm elixir slips between her teeth and falls deeply into Gabrian’s throat. Her eyes close and her head tilts upward as the magic of her muse begins to unwind the tension within her. Sitting on her usual perch alongside the large window that faces the ongoing foot traffic of Bar Harbor’s Main street, Gabrian rejoices, hiding away at the Coffee Hound.
Her mind ponders Cimmerian’s offer, replaying his odd show of concern for her over in her head. Now, she has a gift that pertains to his Fellowship, so it makes sense that he would want to keep a close eye on her—especially since her track record of staying out of trouble is less than desirable.
The serene bubble enclosed around her pops as a familiar voice addresses her and slides in close to her left. Usually this spot is reserved for a particular Shadow Walker, but today it awaits another. The man peeks at her from across his shoulder, his lips pressed and curved crookedly to one side. “So, what are we watching today?”
Her nose wrinkles at his question. “What?”
Matthias turns to stare outward into the street and points his fingers at the people stirring on the street just outside the window. “It is live entertainment at its best—the world’s biggest reality show on big-screen, right in front of us. I was just curious as to what was on.”
Gabrian shakes her head and bumps his arm playfully with her shoulder, pulling her cup to her smiling lips to take another sip of her latte. “Nothing too exciting, I can assure you.”
Without warning, a black flash of feathers lands on the ground in front of them and focuses in on Gabrian, tilting its head to the side. Turning to her counterpart, the ebony-coloured creature shrieks its disapproving calls at him, clearly irritated that he is there so close to his friend.
“Oh, great. If I would have known he was going to join us, I wouldn’t have agreed to come see you,” Matthias says, teasing her and giving her a wink, but she can hear a hint of seriousness in his voice, not to mention the outright displeasure reeling within his thoughts.
She chuckles but looks directly at the watchful bird and waves her hand at him. “It’s all right Theo, leave him be,” she says through the glass, sending him a happy thought to settle him down but doesn’t know if it will work or not. He must have understood, to some degree, as he quiets himself and flies up to perch on the roof of the building across the street—still in a direct line of sight—refusing to vacate completely. “Sorry about that,” she apologizes to him. “He is a bit protective at times.”
“Yeah, he reminds me of someone else I know,” Matthias teases but regrets saying anything about it seeing a hint of darkness flicker within her aura. He is here with her alone and does not want the Shadow Walker anywhere near or invite him into her head unintentionally.
But it is too late. Gabrian looks away, shrinking in her stool just a bit at the thought of Shane, feeling the sting of guilt bite at her for pushing him into a deep sleep so that she could have a moment to herself, a moment to do what she needed to do without seeing that look in his eye.
“Earth to Gabrian…” Matthias whispers, his body facing her.
“Hmm?” she asks, realizing she slipped away in her thoughts and left him alone. “Sorry, I was just…”
“It’s okay. You were only gone for a moment.”
“Ugh, I am struggling to keep my mind straight. I am all over the place,” she tells him, gripping her cup a little more tightly then exhales a loud sigh. “To tell you the truth, I feel like I am falling apart and with everything that has been happening…” She feels the pressure building behind her eyes, threatening to release the tears so eager to appear. She tries hard to push them back, and maintain her façade of being strong, but Gabrian’s inner emotional well bursts. The tears escape through the cracks in her armor and seep downward. “I just needed someone to talk to.”
Seeing Gabrian’s sudden show of honest emotion drives a knife through Matthias’ heart. She always seems so tough and in control. Never once did he ever think she would allow the world to have this much control over her—not like this.
“Gabrian, why didn’t you say anything to Ethan?” he asks, dipping his head in closer to the window so that he can catch her eyes. “I thought you guys were open with each other. He would help you any way he could. You know that, right?”
She wipes the tears away and glances at him, nodding. “I know he would. I just didn’t want to bother him. He has enough on his plate with his clients and dealing with the Covenant of Shadows. And…” She hesitates for a moment and looks away. Gathering breath in her lungs, she turns back to him and continues, “I just don’t want him to think any less of me for being weak.”
Reaching out, Matthias grips the edge of her elbow gently and holds it. “He would never think that, Gabrian, never. That is not who he is. You know that he loves you.”
She tries to smile but it is laboured. She nods again instead of trying to speak.
Matthias rubs the side of his cheek, scratching his fingers against the hint of stubble shadowing his jaw. “I get it, okay.” Knowing how proud she is, and holding a similar level of pride, he may have done the same. Looking weak in the eyes of your mentor is hardly something anyone would want. “You should have come to me sooner,” he whispers to her, releasing his grip on her elbow, and rubs the back of her arm—delighted he was her choice of confidante but a bit surprised the Shadow Walker was not.
Gabrian’s fingers tingle with their familiar heat of stress. With all due respect to Shane, she knows her sleeping giant at home would have listened to her, would have done anything in his power to help her find the answers she seeks, but he always seems to look at her with eyes filled with an emotion she does not quite understand but that she interprets as pity. And she cannot stand to see it anymore. His burden of watching over her like a child is already too much for her to swallow, especially after what she has just done to him. Maybe it is not pity in his eyes after all, maybe it is the reflection of the sickening weight of guilt she harbours inside—watching him waste his life being her babysitter. Pity or guilt, it is all the same to her and now her cup is full of it—she needs a new glass.
Her eyes drop from his, not because she sees pity but because she feels ashamed on so many levels. “I didn’t know if you would still want to talk…after all that has happened—after all that I have done.”
Matthias takes a large breath and lets his grip on her drop, slipping his hand down from her arm to cup her delicate but deadly fingers, and holds them within his own. He stoops down so his head is level with hers. Gabrian’s eyes rise to meet his awkward gaze. “Gabrian, what happened between you and I and the Shadow Walker is not important right now. And the unfortunate mishap with Rachael, I am certain it was a mistake. What is important is you—your health.” Matthias jiggles her fingertips gently, not finished with his thoug
hts. “So, in order for us to figure this out, I need to know what really happened.”
She hesitates for a moment, holding her breath, and feels his delicate touch on her fingers and wonders if he can feel the heat burning within them as well. Shaking the insignificant thought out of her head, she exhales. She is here with him for help so now is not the time to worry about her oddness or to withhold important information. It is not the time to be proud. Exhaling, she tells him about not being able to lend energy—that ever since the night of her supposed capture she is unable to do it. She reveals to him that no matter how much dark essence she inhales, she is never satisfied, and the taste is so repugnant to her that she consciously refuses to feed at times—bringing her to this point of where she is, her subconscious need to feed taking over—which led to her nearly killing Rachael since she had been unable to give back what she had stolen from her.
Gabrian cannot tell him all she thinks about the light—the constant desire to obtain it near maddening. That is something she will not disclose, no matter who he is. That revelation is indeed a measure that will seal her fate.
“I just can’t seem to make myself feed after what happened—what I have done,” she offers, knowing he will get it where Shane would not. Being from the Boragen Fellowship and most likely witnessing this travesty on numerous accounts, he will understand. “…the fear is too strong now.”
He grips her hands more securely within his own and gazes at her with soft eyes, wide and warm, displaying his true feelings outward. “Gabrian, you must feed in order to remain well, physically and mentally.” Holding her hands, Matthias pulls her closer to him with his gaze pleading. “Although we are extremely tolerant of much, the lack of food will do some devastating things.” She looks away from him for a moment, but his fingers lift to drift along her cheek, coaxing her to return her attention to him. “We all struggle, Gabrian, nobody is perfect.”