by Emma Cole
Uncertainty fills me when I’ve scooted far enough back to be out of arm's reach before I get to my feet, shaking the odd tingling out of my hands left over from the burning sensation before I’d spaced out. Riggs’ eyes narrow on the move before his expression smooths into that same indifferent aloofness he’s carried for most of the time I’ve been here. He knows what’s going on with the tingles, but he isn’t sharing. My nostrils flare as my ire mounts. I’ll figure it out for my damn self. The others seem oblivious to our little exchange, or maybe they’re just used to our antics by now and are turning them out. With their myriad of reactions they have at any given time, it’s hard to decide if they’re trying to rekindle our friendship or if they’re using me for their own agenda. Unfortunately for me, it’s probably a mix of the two.
“I’ll just clean up and meet you all back out here. Ten minutes, promise.” I retreat to my room and rinse off as quickly as possible. There’s no way I want to give them the opportunity to leave me behind.
Chapter Fifteen
Riggs
As soon as Cora closes her door, I turn on my two friends. “Whose genius idea was it to let her touch me? And how the fuck did she do this?” I wave an arm at myself. Even without a mirror, I know my injuries are superficial at most. “There was no healing what they did without possibly draining all four of you, let alone just you three and Cora. And where is Drake? He should have beat me back here.” I’m pissed off and stunned that Cora healed me without killing everyone in the process-- and worried about where Drake has gotten off to. It’s not like him to stray far from Cora if he can help it. The guy badly wants to make amends for his brother and earn her trust back. If I had the balls to believe everything will work out in the end, I'd be right there with him.
"Back up," Jag says, confused. "Where did you go with Tony and Todd? And Drake— he was supposed to be with his uncle, something about a family meeting. If it had to do with us or Cora, I should have at least been notified."
While Jaeger is worried, Blaise is downright pissed, a muscle ticking on his clenched jaw. Injuries happen in the pursuit of the Order's agenda, but today was over the top for a straightforward mission. Or at least it should have been straightforward. Knowing I have to come clean and there isn't much time before Cora comes back out, I sum up the situation as quickly as possible.
"Drake called me as he was leaving his uncle's office. We were supposed to meet up with a couple guys from the Oregon chapter to pick up a packet of information. We were glorified couriers, and Tony and Todd were supposed to follow us, just in case. You know things are still tense with them since their chairman and ours got into it at the last big regional meeting we had?" Jaeger nods, motioning me to continue.
"Anyway, Drake pulls over halfway there and tells me to go on with the others, that he just got information and wants the chance to check it out while we already have a pass to be off school grounds. I agree to cover for him and tell the guys that he’s needed back here. No one fucks with Damien Sr., so they didn't question it. We split ways and continued on to the meeting point— a dumpy ass motel of the freeway. The instructions were simple-- go to a room, meet up with the dudes, and get the packet.
“Except when we get there, it’s one of those places you have to go inside for the rooms. All three of us headed in, but something made me turn right before we did, and there was this man with a camera. I’d have let it go, but when he saw me notice him, he took off around the side of the building. I told Tony and Todd to go ahead because I sure as fuck wasn’t coming back without the package, not after Drake took off and the meeting with the dean the other day. The one where you thought someone was hiding in the office?” Jag nods again, and even Blaise is more worried than pissed now.
“Well, if we were being watched, and Drake didn’t show, I couldn’t take the chance that whoever was taking pictures wasn’t going to try to fuck us over with them. I get around the side, and no one is there. No vehicle, nothing but a dumpster corral and an employee entrance that’s locked. Figuring the guy will be inside, I double back only to have two others catch me as I come around the corner on the side. There wasn't a chance to do anything— one of them had what looked like red ink, and he swiped my face twice with it. I hit the ground in seconds, unable to move, and they curb stomped my ass. One of the guys was pissed Drake wasn't the one that had shown up, so it was definitely planned."
Jaeger interrupts me, instantly spitting out his denial. "Drake didn't set you up! He wouldn't do that."
I hold my hands up to stop him, not wanting. "Not what I meant. Think about it. How many people know what happened to us when Damien died? What if they know about Cora? Do we even know what would happen to the rest of us if the link with Drake is broken?"
Blaise pales, sitting down hard on the other end of the couch. "We have to bind her to us. As soon as possible. They can't have her."
"No, they can't." Ash's arrival startles us all. We'd been waiting on Cora's door to open, the one nearest us, not Ash emerging from the other direction. "Fill me in on the rest later, after we don't have to worry about scaring her off. Her being willing is the key, remember? The Axiom failsafe, thank-fucking-Christ." He must have flown through a shower as his hair is still sopping in places and wet patches show through his white shirt. "Get cleaned up and dressed, we can't go see Damien Sr. looking less than proper. And I have the note that was left on you— they definitely know what Cora is."
Jaeger and Blaise start cursing, but a quick point at Cora's door reminds them to keep it down.
"We'll deal with it later; they can't get to her on campus." I get to my feet, still marveling at the lack of pain after the beating my body took. I had been sure I was going to die after the assholes explained they'd bound my ability to siphon. Tony and Todd had tried to help, but siphoning isn't very effective between males of the Order unless a coterie bond is shared. Making a mental note to tell the others about the block, I head for my room.
The snick of the lock disengaging halts my steps. I’m instantly on the defensive because it’s not housekeeping day, and no one else should have access. Not unless an administrator approved it. When I recognize Drake coming in, worry plastered all over his face, I’m first relieved and then pissed.
“Do you know what the fuck you left me to walk in on?” I don’t leave him or the others a chance to speak, jabbing my finger at him. “You have some serious explaining to do, and so you know...Cora saved my ass. She knows, and she wants answers.”
Drake pales slightly but stands his ground. “I got back here as soon as I could. The message didn’t come in until I was already on my way back.” He looks me up and down, taking stock of the mostly healed injuries. “Is she okay? I’m assuming those aren’t all of them? Ash’s message said you were bad off and unable to siphon.”
“It’s kind of a long story, and Cora is going to be out any second. We were about to head out to find you and go talk to your uncle before the Ts get to him first. What was so damned important anyway that you had to take off?”
Drake lowers his voice, eyeing Cora’s door as he explains his behavior. “You guys aren’t going to believe me, but I think I found Mikhail.” The name doesn’t mean anything to me, and I turn to the others. Ash shrugs, just as baffled as I am, and Blaise is much the same-- but Jaeger seems to know exactly who it is.
“He’s dead.” The disbelief in Jaeger’s eyes reflects in his voice.
Drake, though, he’s shaking his head. “I’m nearly positive he’s not. I think he’s lurking and following us. You know that shake setting that activates your phone camera? I’d set it off waiting on my uncle and was trying to close it and hit the video button instead. When I stopped it and went to close it down, there was a man in the thumbnail. Thinking I was seeing shit, I opened it back up, and there’s this grainy image of a dude standing against the wall in front of me. Except nothing is there. Well, almost nothing-- there was an energy when I searched for it, faint but there. I sent it to our resident yearbook s
talker, figuring the way he memorizes names and faces, he’d know who it is. His response was to ask me how I got it since there aren’t many surviving photos of the Malbec twins.” He pauses, waiting for the rest of us to catch up. As soon as I recognize the connection, my eyes widen.
”Yeah, those Malbecs. I think he’s watching us. If Cora is who I think she is, can you blame him?”
The guys start to talk over each other, but I silence them with an abrupt wave of my arm. “Not here. She’ll hear us. Seriously, she had to have fallen in or something to be taking this long. I’m going to shower; we’ll talk about this when we have more time. Also, before we go anywhere, you need to know that the fuckers that roughed me up thought you would be the one there, not me.”
Concern etches lines in Drake’s face, warring with the confusion in his blue eyes. “Go shower, and then fill me in after we leave. Hold up, why are we waiting on Cora?”
***
Cora
The shower helps a lot to clear my head of whatever mojo Jag whammied me with to keep me from freaking out— but now I'm tired. If I let on even a little that I'm not up to doing anything but taking a nap, they'll leave me behind, and that's not happening. From the muffled voices, they at least haven't left yet.
I catch the end of Drake’s question as I open my bedroom door, and relief and annoyance simultaneously wash through me. “You’re waiting on me because I have to go to the library, and you all need to go get clearance to spill your guts.” Drake’s eyes widen as I stomp over to him, getting right up in his face. “Don’t think for one second you won’t be telling me anything I want to know, buddy. I’ve had it with everyone around me hiding shit. Especially after I left it all behind.” He swallows roughly, nodding wide-eyed at my vehemence, and then I notice it. Gripping his face in both hands, I twist it this way and that, looking over his too-perfect skin. “Where is it?”
As Drake mumbles “Where’s what?” through his squished lips, Ash cracks up. He shuts up quickly when I release Drake, moving to him to jerk his shirt up.
Riggs grunts near his bedroom door, taking the opportunity to escape. “Have fun dealing with whatever that is.” I shoot a scowl at his back, but his door is already closing behind him as I go back to strip searching Ash.
“Cora, if you wanted me naked, you just needed to say so. Normally, I’m not shy, but we do have an audience.” Ash lets out an ‘oof’ when I smack his trim stomach.
Don’t look at them, Cora. Think of Kael. NO boys, not even Ash. Dragging my gaze up from the toned abs, I meet his, blushing at my distraction but determined to finish my hunt. “Shut up, Ash. Turn around.” Amusement lighting his storm-colored eyes, he complies. “It’s gone. I thought I was crazy, but it’s really not there. You had a scar, Ash. From a nail on a dock when we were kids. Remember? I thought your mom was going to pass out when you came out of the water bleeding.”
Ash turns back to me, understanding and compassion softening his features. “Cora, we’ll explain as soon as we can, but…” His hands drift up to cup my face, tilting it up to him. "The blue glowy stuff? It changes you— some things are good, and some things aren't."
Uncomfortable at the fact that I'm not uncomfortable with his big hands on my skin, I step back, but he doesn't lower them until the last fingertip loses its purchase. Needing to dispel the odd, lingering feeling of affection, I go back to Drake.
“Your chicken pox scar is really gone?” He nods, remaining silent while I examine his complexion. “Guess I’m not crazy then. After I got out of the shower, I noticed my skin seemed different, where my chin was starting to break out was clear. With my mood swings from...everything-- well, breakouts and the bloating are usually the only way I notice that I’m still having a cycle."
Drake freezes, forehead puckered in concern. "Uh, Cora. You feeling okay?"
While I'm trying to figure out why he's asking, Blaise stage-whispers to Jag, "I thought she decided she isn't crazy?"
Even Jag is looking at me like I'm a few screws loose. "Cora, are you talking about your period? Not to be insensitive, but I'm nearly positive that's no longer possible."
I smirk at them all. Even though the reminder is painful, I finally have the barest edge of a silver-lining to exploit. "You all thought you were going to have a PMS-free roommate? Don't get me wrong, I was surprised and hesitant to bring it up to my doctor the first time, but as long as I have my ovaries, I'll still have the hormones, just not all of the stuff that comes with them." Even revealing that tidbit doesn't completely overshadow the sadness of the rest of it though. "The surgeons left what they could. If they'd taken my ovaries, it would have put me into early menopause. They thought the strain on my body while it recovered, if it recovered, would be too much." The guys look almost scared, and I don't get it. "What's wrong?"
"What's wrong is that we needed to know you can still have children." Riggs' curt reply comes from his open door where he stands, lips tight together in disapproval, making me feel like a kid that left the milk out then put it away after it spoiled without telling anyone.
"Well, I can't have them, but technically I could get a surrogate if I decide that's something I want to pursue. It's not exactly been on the agenda, but thanks for making me spell it out. Let me remind you, it's my body and I don't have to share a damn thing if I don't want to— especially after Blaise's barren remark, doesn't exactly make one want to broach the subject again."
"Cora, I'm sorry, again. I shouldn't have said that." I won't tell Blaise it's okay, but do nod at him. His head tips forward, hiding his features as his shoulders sag forward. Steeling myself from saying anything further, because he deserves to feel ashamed, I focus on Riggs.
He briefly looks contrite, and as if he wants to say something, but his attention is diverted by Jag. "You don't think they would?" Jag's lips are pinched tight at the corners where he clamped them shut at the question. It's Drake that answers.
"They certainly would, if they thought they could get away with it and succeed." Their double-speak is pissing me off, but Drake starts asking his own questions. "Cora, how well do you trust your doctors? Have they done any tests or exams you thought were odd?"
Bewildered, I shake my head. "Not that I've noticed, but what's fucking normal in my situation, Drake? Why does it matter that I actually got to keep part of my reproductive organs? For fuck's sake, I'm missing a goddamn kidney, and you're all stuck on my ovaries." Feeling the pins and needles along with the shortness of breath that herald a panic attack, I try to take deep, even breaths and change the subject. "Library. Please." Drake tries to reach out in what I imagine to be comfort, but I shy away. A hug right now might keep them from letting me go, and fresh air, even if it's only for the short walk to the library, sounds divine.
Chapter Sixteen
By the time we've walked to my destination I've managed to calm down, but it still takes multiple promises not to leave the building without one of them before they'll leave.
"Guys, it's a library. I'll be fine. Please go so I can interrogate you sooner."
"Sshh, Cora. Not out here," Jag admonishes me. I roll my eyes but mime zipping my lips.
"I'm going. Goodbye." I slip in through one of the double doors on the old, stately two-story building, shutting it firmly behind me.
Inside, the scent of ink and paper permeate the air, and I inhale deeply, relaxing even more. I love the smell of books.
"Mistress Cordelia! How nice to see you again." The guy from the student store... Kent, my brain finally prompts, comes at me from around the service desk with his arms extended as if he's going to hug me like some long-lost friend. Creepy Kent, I remind myself, flipping my backpack around into a makeshift shield and quickly pulling out a notebook to cover the move. His steps falter a bit, and he almost bashfully lowers his arms, no longer holding eye contact.
"Kent, hello," I greet him with a pleasant smile to take the sting out of my actions. "I didn't know you worked here too."
He immediately perks bac
k up at my familiarity, megawatt smile reappearing, and I have to wonder if he has a condition. "Yes, if I'm not at the store, I'm generally in here anyway, so they gave me the internship. One day, I'll be the Master Librarian." His eyes shine with a fervent light that worries me a bit in its intensity, but barring any mental illness he may be harboring, he's probably a good place to start my research.
"Maybe you can help me then since you know the library well?"
"Oh, yes, anything you need, Mistress Cordelia." He nods, head bobbing on his skinny neck hard enough to make me wince and worry he might hurt himself.
"Just Cora is fine, Kent," I try to correct him, much to his horror.
"Oh no, Mistress, I couldn't do that. It wouldn't be proper." Yep, he's definitely nuttier than squirrel shit. Fuck my life.
Looking around the cavernous space filled with shelves, tables, and sitting areas, I spy an alcove that’s away from the handful of now staring students. "Of course, Kent. How about I just go set my things down and bring you a list of what I'm researching? Then you can check it out and give me your opinion on where I should start."
At this point I'm nearly ready to call one of the guys, regardless of what they're doing, to get me out of here. Kent just rubs me the wrong way— in all directions.
Thankfully, he takes the hint, or maybe he's used to backhanded dismissals. Whatever the case may be, he goes back to his desk while I slowly make my way to the little secluded sitting area. It's hard not to get lost in the age and mystery of the contents. There are so many books. This very well could be my new favorite place— if I can get rid of its intern.
