When Pop opens the door, an eager breeze whips through the car, cooling the stuffy air. Before I can get out, Devon turns around. “Stay put while we go in and work things out,” he says to me. “When you do come in, be quiet. Lay low. Speak when spoken to.”
“It’s best if she’s not left alone,” Pop says to no one in particular.
“I’ll stay,” Maddox volunteers a little too quickly.
“So will I.” Harper shoots him another sideways glance.
Devon looks at the three of us crammed in the back seat. His Caretaker’s built-in truth-meter is raging strong. After a scrutinizing silence he says, “If I’m not out in ten, then come in.”
“Devon, wait.” I lean forward before he gets out of the car. Gladys’s hairpin pokes me again. I wiggle it to the side. “Can I use your phone to call my mom?”
“Battery’s dead. But last I heard she was transported to Hesperian. We’ll talk to Foster, then call Gladys for an update on her recovery.”
He shuts the door and then walks off to help Pop navigate the three steps up to the front door. While Harper rummages through the duffle bag, I search for a way to roll down the window. I pull the handle near my knee but nothing happens. I’m about to open the door instead when Maddox reaches over and cranks the handle in a circle. “Roll it down like this.”
“Thanks. I can get it from here.” I take over, lowering the wonky window on my own, but it gets stuck about halfway. Or maybe that’s as far as it goes. Regardless, it’s enough to let in the cool breeze that tastes like nectar.
“Go change somewhere.” Harper hands me Devon’s vintage green T-shirt she pulled from the bag. “I need to talk to Maddox for a minute.”
My shirt. I’d forgotten the front was slashed open by the generator coils. I take a quick inventory of the grounds. Besides the forest, my best option is an enclosed pergola about thirty feet away. It’s nestled by the side of the house and covered in thick ivy, making it private enough. “Be right back.”
Harper eyes the cuts on Maddox’s arm and rips open a gauze packet, dousing it with stringent antiseptic. “And be careful with your wound,” she adds. “You didn’t have enough serum to block the pain much longer.”
I stretch and inspect the burnt edge of my jeans. “It feels tight but doesn’t hurt.” Too much.
A gentle breeze rustles the surrounding treetops, lighting the greenery with beckoning shimmers like the sprinkled dust of fallen stars. Or maybe it’s the morning dew.
“Stay close. Make it quick.” Maddox is in full Guardian mode. His serious tone underscores my reality but, for some reason, clashes with the soulful music from a distant cello.
No one patrols the grounds. We’re alone as far as I can tell, and I don’t see any cameras, but I trust him. Even with the awkwardness lingering between us. “I won’t be long.”
I hobble to the arbor. Sugary nectar douses the air and lands on my tongue. Out here, my senses sharpen. I feel more alert, alive, aware of every breath. A tiny pulse—no, it’s more of a hum, or maybe a heartbeat—thrums through the Garden. Whether it’s nerves, something in the air, or there really is an electric pulse riding my skin, I don’t know.
When I reach the arbor, that familiar, paranoid feeling of being watched creeps over me. Devon said creatures couldn’t get into the Garden when the gate was shut, but I’m on the alert anyhow.
The empty nook is about twenty stones deep and four wide, nothing but a corridor leading to a narrow opening on the far right. Tangled vines net the ceiling. The space looks void of strange shadows or black mist, so I carefully navigate down the steps.
Cold radiates from the stones. The sugary nectar tastes stronger in the damp air. The floral scent is familiar, but I can’t place it. Gardenia, maybe? When a slight breeze brushes across the vines, small honey-colored flowers glow between waxy leaves. That’s definitely not gardenia.
I run my fingertip over a velvet petal. A gentle hum purrs against my skin, and the flower brightens at my touch. I jerk my hand away. The light quickly fades, and the flower shrivels, turning dirty brown. Dead.
“Cera?” Maddox’s footsteps skid across the gravel, sounding in my direction.
“Give her a second.” Harper’s voice carries from the drive.
I peer through the vines. I’m not sure how much they can see, but it can’t be much because I only get pockets of Maddox’s white T-shirt near the water fountain and Harper’s blonde hair as she chases after him.
“Cera can’t be left alone,” Maddox says, sounding frustrated.
“She’s fine.” Harper’s flats scuffle on the pebbles. “Besides, we have a conversation to finish. We barely got a chance to talk back at the apartment.”
“Later. Cera can’t be in there.”
Why not? The gleaming sun beckons from the narrow opening at the far end of the alcove, lapping the stones and flittering back and forth the way water wrestles a lake’s edge. But there’s nothing threatening in this cozy space.
“Maddox, please don’t walk away.” Harper is practically begging. “I just want to know what’s going on.”
All footsteps stop. “That corridor leads to the Empyrean Well. If a Blade finds her in there, they’ll think she was trying to find the source of our Bents. They’ll think she’s—it’s just not safe for her. That’s all.”
Wait. The source of the Current is around that corner? I inch closer to the arched walkway and poke my head around the entry. Six-foot shrubs line a crushed-granite path into a maze garden, but where did the reflective water come from? An urge to explore tugs strong.
Then something rustles deep inside the thick maze walls. I quickly step back.
Change. Do it fast.
“That’s not what I’m talking about.” Harper’s voice rises. “You said you kissed her because you thought you all were going to die, but there’s more to it, isn’t there?”
“Can we talk later?” Maddox tries to whisper.
“No, Maddox, we can’t. I get that you and I, we’re not a thing. You made that clear, but I just want you to tell me what’s really going on—”
“I’m her interceptor. I’m supposed to stay near and guard her.”
“Why won’t you be honest with me?”
I work the buttons on the flannel shirt and glance through the vines, catching a glimpse of Maddox as he rubs his hands over his face. “I promise we’ll talk. Just not out here. Cera needs—Harper? Harper, wait.” Hard footsteps grind over the gravel drive. “Harper!” The front door slams.
I change as fast as I can.
He only kissed me because he thought we were about to die? Unbelievable. I was simply one last kiss before death. I really don’t need this distraction right now.
In one fluid motion, I slide my arms out of the collared shirt and put on Devon’s T-shirt. I shrug the flannel back on for added warmth, leaving it unbuttoned. As I bend down to roll up the torn fabric of my burnt jeans, a warning flare rips through me. I push the feeling aside and adjust my ponytail.
“What are you doing in here?” a deep voice asks from behind.
I spin around, wiping a wayward strand of hair from my face. “I’m—I—”
Why can’t I find the words? Maybe it’s because the guy is about as cut as the statue of Gabriel come to life and his warrior-like presence suffocates any trace of air. His ice-blue eyes scan me with the intensity of a trained hunter. He’s a Blade—and a strong one. I look down at the ground and count the distance between us.
One. Two. Five mossy stones.
“You one of us?” I’m not sure if he means a Blade or Awakened. But in both cases, the answer is no. I consider lying, but that’s proven to cause more problems. I clearly can’t outrun him. Not with my busted leg. His hand rests close to his hip, weaponless. But he’s bound to have something tucked in the lining of his clothes the way all Blades do.
He steps closer. Two stones away. Now one.
“Look at me,” he commands.
I lift my eyes, slowly.
His sharp jaw is pinpricked with stubble. He’s about Devon’s age, maybe slightly older. Smells of metal shavings—either that, or it’s blood. I work hard to avoid direct contact with his eyes that scorch with a stare so intense, warmth radiates from my face. He’ll read my Current and know what I am.
“Cera, you ready?” Maddox appears around the corner. He stops. “Gray.” His confident voice wavers. “She’s been cleared.”
“Not by me.” The guy, Gray, lifts my jaw with strong fingers. My face turns hotter than the summer sun.
Then his name slaps inside my head. Gray.
Maddox’s brother.
The Elite Blade and god-to-all-things-Alliance holds my chin firmly in his hands.
When our eyes meet, the buzzing Current cuts through me with a painful shock. Paralyzing. Stronger than any other. He’s assessing. Judging. Deciding.
Maddox is a blur rushing to my side. “She’s here to see Foster. Not you.” He takes my hand and jerks me away, breaking the intense hold of Gray’s Current that’s left me shaky. “C’mon, Cera.”
“Wait.” I wiggle my hand free.
Broken sunlight peers through the netted ceiling, highlighting Gray’s spiky hair and striking cheekbones. He doesn’t look anything like Maddox. The only similarity lies in the smooth lips and the sharp nose, although compared to Gray’s, Maddox’s nose might have been broken. I will my heart to slow down. “I was told I should train with you. Kellan said that you’re the best Blade there is.”
“You brought home a Blight?” Gray completely ignores me. His eyes harden at Maddox. “The gate should have sensed her as a threat. How did she get through?”
“Because she’s not a threat,” Maddox says abruptly. “Cera, let’s go.”
“You’re not going anywhere.” Gray plants a hand on Maddox’s chest and pushes him away. “Do you have any idea how much trouble you’re in? I had to risk lives by sending in a team to protect your little group in that trash hole because you refuse to train—and have them trained. Art doesn’t win a war. Training does. Now people are injured—”
“I messed up, I know,” Maddox says, as Gray’s shadow casts over him. “I made a mistake.”
“That’s not a mistake. That’s being irresponsible. But this?” He looks at me. The hard lines on his face transform with disgust. “Bringing that into the Garden and putting the Well at risk isn’t an innocent mistake. It’s a serious infraction. How many times do you have to mess up before you’ll get it through your thick head? You and I, we’re not like everyone else. We have obligations. Responsibilities. A duty to our line.”
“I said, I know.” Maddox’s voice is tight.
I squirm. He shouldn’t get chewed out on account of me. “It wasn’t his idea to bring me here,” I say as an achy throb wakes in my leg. The serum must be wearing off.
Gray points a hard finger at me. “You’ve got no right to speak.”
I open my mouth to snap back, but Maddox taps the back of his hand to mine. It’s his way of telling me to stay quiet. I know because his focus is locked on Gray with the same intensity we had when fleeing from the Cormorants. I hate backing down, but I trust Maddox. I shut my mouth and swallow my acidic words.
Gray refocuses on Maddox. “You’re lucky Albrecht isn’t here. I’ll work this out with Foster and tell him you’re turning her in. Now get inside. And get a haircut. You look ridiculous.”
Without warning, Gray seizes my wrist and jerks me forward. I land on my injured leg and cry out as sharp pain shoots from my wound, sending daggers into my eyeballs.
“Back off!” Maddox throws a fist at Gray.
Gray releases me, but only to thrust a backhanded punch into Maddox’s face, knocking him back. “You really want to do this right here? Over a Blight?”
Maddox staggers and wipes blood from his nose. Fire rages in his eyes.
Gray circles around Maddox, his hard boots echoing in this cramped cage. “Go on. Show this Blight what you’re made of. Then let’s see what she thinks of you.” Gray taunts Maddox with a quick slap on the ear.
Maddox tenses. “Cera, it’s time to go.” He places a firm hand on my back.
“Oh, come on, Maddox. You started this fight. Finish it. Or maybe I’ll tell her about you. About how—”
“Shut up,” Maddox growls.
“Why? Maybe if she knew how you couldn’t—”
“I said, shut up!” Maddox flies at Gray.
Gray dodges the hit, only to strike fast and knock Maddox to the ground. “That all you got?” Gray rolls Maddox to his side using the tip of his boot.
Sunlight hides behind the clouds, darkening the arbor as Maddox shoves Gray’s foot aside. “Back off.”
“I’ll back off when you finally learn to fight. Now, get up. We’re not done.”
Blades instinctively know when something is about to strike and can anticipate a hit. But not Guardians. There’s no way Maddox will win this. Not only is Gray a Blade, but he’s too fluid. Too quick. And has way more muscle.
Maddox pushes off the ground. The side of his face, the side with the scar, is scraped and bleeding. Blood is smeared in his hair and dripping from his nose. Raging heat surges inside me. I can’t stay silent. “Stop!” I rush between them.
“Not a threat, huh?” Gray twists my arm. I yelp in pain. “You have a thing for my kid brother?”
Maddox jumps to his feet. “Look, I’m here. I’ll train. I’ll fight, okay? Just leave her alone.”
“Blights don’t get left alone. Blights die. You of all people should know they’re nothing but worthless rats trying to taint our line. Weaken us.”
I know I’m worthless, that’s nothing new. Gray can call me whatever name he wants, beat me, threaten to kill me—but family or not, if he ever hurts Maddox again, I’ll call on Moloch to claw his heart out. I struggle to get away as Gray wrenches my arm behind my back. When I take a hard step, I feel the wound tear open under the bandage.
“Gray, don’t.” Maddox’s eyes are trained on the brass knife with the opal handle Gray now holds, the one with the signature vine-etched pattern. The one I’m certain is Paradise Steel. “She doesn’t want to destroy us. Let her talk to—”
“All Blights want to destroy us, whether they know it or not.” Gray points the blade at Maddox. “Maybe it’s time I stopped cleaning up after you. Maybe then you’d grow up and start caring about your obligation as an Elite—about what Mom and Dad sacrificed for us—about what I did for you. Maybe you’d stop being such a pathetic runt who screws up all the time. Like getting lured by this disease.” Gray tips the knife near my cheek. A heated vibration radiates from the metal.
“I do care about being a Legacy. And about what Mom and Dad did, about what you did,” Maddox says, the hurt in his eyes evident. “But I’m not you.” He wipes the dirt from his arms. “Life is more than ranking up in Alliance Council. Making the world a better place is what matters. It’s what we were taught, and I’m living it out, whether you like it or not.”
Gray’s grip on my arm slackens, but I don’t dare move. I barely breathe. “We both know that’s useless thinking that won’t keep you alive.”
“I’ll do whatever you want. Just let her go.” Maddox glances at me. “I never wanted her to come here. Lassiter did.”
Gray lowers the knife. “Devon?”
“Pop.”
Gray scoffs. “Lassiter might be senile, but he knows better.”
“Ask him. He’s inside.” Maddox gestures toward the house. “Probably talking to Foster about her now.”
Gray assesses Maddox for a moment. After a long silence, he releases my arm, only to land a jarring shove into my spine.
“Move it, Blight.” Gray pushes me forward. “Time to see how long you’ll live.”
Gray steers me through the front door and into a hallway filtered with scant light from a narrow stained glass window. The smell of baked bread might be comforting if his steel-toed boots weren’t stomping on the earthy tile. Maddox’s footsteps fol
low behind, out of sync with Gray’s heavy stride.
Gray stops me just short of a grand archway on my left. “Not a word.” His unwelcome breath steams hot against my ear. Then he pushes me into the room.
My entrance is far from graceful. I trip on the corner of an antique rug, stumbling into a ballroom with an intricate twenty-foot ceiling and ornate chandeliers. The vast room feels like an antiquated museum, a tomb of relics that smells of aged lacquer. Giant canvases and faded tapestries decorate the walls. Thick upholstered chairs in a variety of muted colors cluster in every corner, and a hand-carved conference table dominates the middle of the room where Pop is seated. Devon stands behind him deep in conversation with a middle-aged man sporting a pencil-thin mustache and a green sweater-vest. They stop talking and look in my direction.
“Lieutenant Foster, a Blight breached the gate.” Gray’s arrogant echo ricochets behind me. “She was searching the arbor.”
Maddox comes to my side, blood smearing his lip. “She wasn’t searching, Lieutenant. She—”
“Attacked me,” Gray shoots Maddox a hard look. “Cast some sort of spell on my brother.” He wrenches my arm behind my back, guiding me away from Maddox and deeper into the room, closer to the crackling fire that has no effect on me because angry heat has already invaded my veins.
“I can’t cast spells,” I spit at him. “I can only command a Legion to burn your skin off.”
“Cera!” Devon is quickly at my side. His voice is steeped with warning as he whispers, “That’s not helping.”
Cooperate and stay alive, I know. But, not only is Gray making it next to impossible, the serum has worn off, and now a throbbing burn chews inside my leg.
“There’s the proof.” Gray stabs a hard finger in my direction.
“She can command Legions?” Lieutenant Foster asks. His perfect consonants are tinted by a slight British accent that totally suits his look.
“Sure as she can command a Cormorant to stay in a storm.” Pop rises from the chair with a grunt and the help of his cane. “Thought it best for her to stay here. Keep her out of Sage’s hands.”
Realms of Light (The Colliding Line Book 2) Page 2
