by Allie Burton
By learning about his past I was learning about Falcon.
“Or any real doctors.” He held out his hand to help me up. “I know more medical treatments than any supposed doctor from my time period.”
Taking hold, I yanked him down and flipped over him. This super-strength thing was pretty cool.
“You’re a fast learner.” His praise raised my spirits.
“It must be difficult to adjust to a life with technology and vehicles and electricity.” Even the most basic thing was new to him.
“It’s been challenging.” He got to his feet again. “This time, use your agility and speed to fake me out.”
Hmm. I had to think about it. Glancing up, I spotted the balcony high above. I took a running jump and flew through the air. My feet landed on the balcony and I grabbed the railing.
“You can’t escape from me like that.” Falcon jumped toward me.
I tried to duck. He slammed into me. We went through the metal railings with a crash and landed on the wood floor. Debris hailed down.
And I wasn’t hurt. A scratch or two, but nothing serious. These powers were truly amazing.
“Olivia and Xander are going to be mad.” I rolled and grabbed a metal bar broken from the railing.
“Nah, we fight all the time.” Falcon broke another metal bar off the railing. “The building is condemned.”
And when this fight was over and my powers were gone, what then? Would I lose Falcon’s affections? Would I return to my old life? Could I return to my old life, knowing all I did about powers and magic?
“En garde.” I held the bar as if I were a swordfighter.
“En garde?” He copied my position.
“Have you not learned fencing?” I teased, enjoying the action and the conversation.
“No.”
I stabbed the bar toward him. He countered. The two bars clashed with a clang. The metal vibrated in my hand.
He hefted the bar high. “Fencing might be fun.” He jabbed the bar at my midsection.
I jumped back. Far. Several yards. A thrill flashed through me. I was doing the impossible. I was having fun. More fun than I’d had since the accident. Maybe even my entire life.
He danced forward.
Dropping the metal bar, I flipped over the balcony…and landed on my feet. Like a fountain in summer, jubilation bubbled in my chest. This was really happening.
He followed me back to the mat.
Bending down, I gripped the edge of the twenty-by-twenty mat and yanked out and up. The large, heavy mat sailed over my head.
Falcon lost his balance and fell to the hard, concrete ground. He rubbed his head. “You win this round.”
Success streamed inside of me, lifting my spirits and my belief in myself. Maybe, just maybe I could use these powers to save Grandfather.
Falcon struggled to stand. “I can’t believe how far your powers have progressed.”
“Thanks to you.” I held my hand out and pulled him up and closer.
His pleasing scent of eucalyptus mixed with sweat stirred my passion. My knees weakened and I fell into the protection of his arms. Staring deep into his eyes, I wanted to be with him. Forever.
But how long would forever last for me?
“Once we save my grandfather and you do whatever needs to be done with the trumpet—” I swallowed the future heartache stuck in my throat. “—what will happen to us?”
Standing still, I waited and watched.
Watched his eyes glisten and his gaze drop. Watched his mouth flatten into a straight line.
My heart braced for hurt. For rejection. For a reality check.
The warehouse door slammed open. Loud voices echoed. The Soul Warriors had returned.
His arms slipped from around me and he stepped back. Away from me. Away from an entanglement. Away from a commitment.
My heart chilled without his body warmth.
“Falcon, you found her.” Xander pounded down the steps with Olivia at his side. “We were worried.”
Nastiness crept inside of me at the interruption and the fake concern. Were they worried about me or the trumpet?
Xander had a large cut on his cheek. Olivia’s braid had hair sticking out, and she cradled an arm. How did they feel about the fight for goodness and light now?
“How are the streets of San Francisco?” Falcon ran his fingers through his hair.
I stiffened, letting anger take away the chill. Did he not want to be caught with me in his arms?
Antony walked with a slight limp. “Calming now the sun has risen.”
Math sported a black eye. “And the trumpet of war has stopped playing.”
A niggle of guilt wiggled against the nastiness. Yet, mention of the trumpet returned the desire to play and the anger because I wasn’t allowed. I twisted my fingers together, fighting the urge to ask Falcon to see my trumpet. I wanted to know the instrument was safe.
Falcon put a protective arm around my shoulders, understanding my sudden desire. “We’re working on it.”
At first, I leaned into him, enjoying his care. Then, every muscle tightened at accepting his touch. Were his kisses a distraction? A way to keep my mind occupied on something other than the trumpet? Was that the only reason for his attention?
Olivia’s gaze scraped across the two of us and Falcon dropped his arm from me, again lighting an ugly green fuse of jealousy. My anger ramped up. Falcon cared what Olivia thought. He didn’t want her to know about us. I should blow the trumpet to spite him.
“We need to talk.” Olivia indicated the shabti warriors.
I wasn’t included. The second of stinging I squashed with my fury. I didn’t need to be included. I had things to do.
“Excuse me.” I knew it was the trumpet talking in the rude tone, trying to take control of my actions. I headed toward the kitchen, not because I was hungry for food. I wasn’t part of their group. I hadn’t pledged for goodness and light and love.
While the warriors gathered in a meeting, I’d search for the trumpet. I might have powers, temporarily, but I wasn’t one of them. Didn’t fully understand their history and allegiance to Olivia.
Olivia was beautiful. With her long, silky hair, gorgeous skin, and athletic build. Nothing like me with my short hair and injured body. Except it wasn’t injured anymore.
I moved forward, pulled by an invisible force. I should play the trumpet. Show Olivia and Falcon I didn’t care what they thought. Who they kissed.
Walking through the kitchen, I carefully opened every cabinet and drawer. Olivia hadn’t been here when Falcon and I had returned, so he couldn’t have put it in the safe.
My heart cracked, remembering how alone we’d been. We’d trained and talked and tempted. At least, I’d been tempted. My broken heart burned, hurt changing to anger. The trumpet was mine. Falcon had no right take it. He must’ve put it somewhere else. Out of view. Somewhere he thought was well hidden.
I left the kitchen and headed into the small area with the books. Almost like a classroom, a couple of laptops sat open on the table. The shelves held reference books, fiction books, and notebooks, even a globe. I wanted to use my fist, my powerful strength, to slam everything to the ground.
But the noise would give my search away. I had to be stealthy.
Listening for voices, I heard most of the warriors still talking in the main room. They mentioned fights and injuries and damage. I didn’t care about what had happened in the streets of San Francisco last night. I didn’t care what happened to them.
I only cared about finding the trumpet.
Something teased my mind. A lightness, a caring, a flashback to who I used to be. I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I shouldn’t play the trumpet.
The trumpet took control again. I pushed the silliness aside. My needs came first. Playing, I was the all-powerful Aria York.
Yanking open a closet, I searched inside. Something wasn’t normal here. I sensed the power. I pushed a few coats aside, moved a couple of boxes. There, on t
he ground, sat the case.
Falcon had shoved the trumpet in the back of a closet as if it was worthless. Idiot.
I shook my head. He wasn’t an idiot. He was smart and wise. An old soul. A soul I’d connected with. He didn’t want me to play the trumpet because it was dangerous for me and the city.
My alter ego took charge. Or was that all lies to keep me from playing? He wanted the trumpet for himself. He didn’t want me to have powers.
I bent down and snapped open the case.
The bronze trumpet shone, ready to be played. It called to me. My fingers stretched out.
The images of the rioting in the streets popped in my brain. I’d caused that. Playing the trumpet had caused that. I shouldn’t play.
I wiggled my fingers. They itched to take hold of the gleaming bronze.
I had every right to play. It was a free country. I didn’t force those people to riot.
Tensing my muscles, I froze with indecision. I mushed my lips together, fighting the need. And yet, the desire drew me closer.
My hand reached forward, glancing over the bronze. The slightest touch buzzed through my body. The trumpet and I had a connection. The instrument needed to be played.
But what about the anger? What about the chaos my playing caused to the world?
Chapter Eighteen
Falcon
Falcon entered the room designated for study and stopped dead.
Past the table with the computers and standing globe, inside the open closet door, Aria sat crumpled on the floor, her hand gripping the long horn of the trumpet of war.
It felt as if her hand gripped his heart. He was going to lose her to this addiction. Once you played, you wanted to play more and more. The urge fed upon itself.
“What’re you doing?” He grabbed her wrist, snatching her away from temptation.
Her face tightened, the deep lines showing how hard she tried to jerk her arm out of his grip. “You have no right to deny me the pleasure of music.”
Keeping a tight hold of her, he placed the trumpet back in the case and snapped the lid shut. Too bad they really didn’t have a safe to lock the trumpet in. He and Olivia had lied hoping to stop Aria from searching. He’d forgotten how strong the pull of the trumpet could be.
He leaned back and studied her. Her eyes were wild, her hair messy. She knew this had nothing to do with music.
“Remember last night? Think of the people of San Francisco. Think of the world.” He used a pleading note that screamed in his veins. “Think of me.”
Every time she played, torment filled his heart and soul.
She glanced at the trumpet case and back at him, indecision written clearly on her face.
He understood the confusion, had felt it for a long time. “Aria, Math found a lead on your grandfather.”
“Are you sure? Or is this another lead to find the other trumpet?” Her tone bit him like a rabid dog.
She still was mad for his lie.
The screaming in his bloodstream soothed to a high-pitched yell of concern. He’d find a way to make it up to her. “Come with me.”
“You want me to come?” She sounded more suspicious than surprised. “Why?”
“With your stronger powers you’ll be an asset.” He tugged on her wrist, trying to drag her away from the trumpet’s influence.
“Really? Or do you want me away from the trumpet?” She could read his mind.
Wonderment widened his gaze. He remembered the knowing looks exchanged between Olivia and Xander. Could that be possible between the two of them? They’d only shared a couple of kisses.
“Finding your grandfather is more important than playing the trumpet, isn’t it?” His voice rose in a challenge.
“Of course.” She responded as he’d expected.
Strong. Brave. Determined.
His chest swelled. She’d grown so much since she’d been forced into this mad adventure.
“You’ll have to leave the trumpet here.” His shoulders tightened even while he forced casualness into his tone. He would not make a big deal out of leaving the trumpet behind.
He willed her the strength. You can do this, Aria.
With a last glance at the case, she stood and brushed herself off. “Okay.”
His tense shoulders relaxed as he led her out of the classroom, past the stairs, and toward the bathroom. “Change back into your clothes and I’ll meet you right here.”
“Where are you going to change?”
“I’ll change in my room and be back in a flash.” He didn’t want to waste one second while he had her agreement.
Minutes later they exited the warehouse.
“Remember the fast running and leaping?” He stopped outside the door. Sunlight filtered between the two warehouses. “We’re going to use those powers now.”
“Why?”
“Because we have a train to catch.” They had plenty of time, but he wanted to test her strength and weaknesses.
Together, they leapt toward Market Street and then east. They passed the end of the cable car line and the spires of the financial district with short stops at each. He was amazed how quickly she’d gained strength and controlled the powers.
They landed in a peaceful garden with a large waterfall. So different from last night’s war zone.
Not many people were sitting in the garden, or by the waterfall, which was at least twenty feet tall and constructed to resemble sharp rock outcroppings. The water fell in front of glass windows, with a passageway to observe the waterfall underneath. In front, the water collected in a large reflecting pool filled with fake rocks and surrounded by a short wall.
Strolling toward the waterfall’s pool, an appreciative smile lit Aria’s mouth. Her eyes glowed, reflecting the water. She looked beautiful and serene, so unlike her troubled expression when she’d been about to succumb and play the trumpet.
Thwwwck.
Jerking, Falcon whirled at the strange sound. Too late.
A curved, sickle sword slashed at him.
His heart clutched and fear jolted. He leapt to the edge of the fountain next to where Aria stood. “Attack.”
Her smile disappeared. Her gaze narrowed. Her expression changed from serene to panicked.
The big, muscular guy with the steel khopesh moved like a turtle toward the fountain. Quiet and slow down the straight path, past the trees and flowers. Muscles, as Falcon instantly nicknamed him, didn’t leap forward. His shaved head resembled a bowling ball. He held the rounded sword in front of him. His arms bulged out of his ceremonial tunic. A gold, tasseled belt highlighted the size of his waist.
Muscles wore the ceremonial clothing of the Society. The gold belt claimed a status this muscular dude couldn’t claim. The leaders were older, more educated, less confrontational.
Aria’s panic echoed in his hollow chest. “Get behind me.” Falcon shoved her behind him. He had to keep her safe, and at the same time, he had to learn who this guy was, who he worked for.
Muscles came closer, slashing again.
Every nerve ending tingled, preparing for a fight. Inside, he was calm. He’d been trained for battle.
“Who sent you?” Falcon stepped sideways and back so Aria would have an easy escape.
Muscles didn’t answer. He slashed again.
The sharp sword missed Falcon by a centimeter. The back of his legs came up against the short fountain wall. Losing his balance, he started falling backward. He turned the fall into a backwards flip landing in the reflecting pool.
Water splashed around him. The smell of chlorine choked his throat. One of his legs slipped and jammed into a vent. Twisting his leg, he tried to pull his foot out. He couldn’t.
The water chilled his skin, but he was frosted.
Wet and mad. And stuck.
The frosted fury thawed with fear, realizing his predicament. He sat in the foot-deep water, with his foot held captive by the fountain. He couldn’t get away and he couldn’t fight from a sitting-down position. “Aria, lea
p away now.”
“No.” Her stubbornness rang similar to a bell in a boxing ring. “You said I’d be an asset.”
Fear for Aria jabbed at his lungs. He couldn’t breathe.
Muscles stepped onto the short wall of the reflecting pool. He didn’t appear to be in a hurry, and he didn’t seem to want to go after Aria. Yet.
His sinister grin sent curdles of fear through Falcon’s stomach.
He never should’ve told Aria she’d be an asset. He shouldn’t have explained about her powers. He yanked and yanked and yanked on his leg, trying to loosen his foot. “I’m stuck. Aria, I want you to run. I can’t protect you.”
Maybe pointing out the obvious would make her understand the severity of the situation. His helplessness multiplied into a frazzle of fear and fury. He couldn’t run or leap or even stand.
“There’s two of us and only one of him.” Aria leapt several feet behind him into the reflecting pool, causing a small splash.
Bending down, he tugged at his foot, again trying to release it. His muscles twitched and his skin wanted to leap off his body. He was sunk, literally. “I don’t have a weapon. This guy does.”
Muscles’ grin snarled and his eyes narrowed. He swung the weapon wide in the air.
The thwwwck-ing sound sent a chill down Falcon’s spine. He was a sitting water fowl.
Glancing at Aria, the chill spread. She wasn’t listening. Her expression had taken on a warrior’s determination.
She bent over and wrapped her arms around a large rock sticking out of the water.
Panic pulsed. Falcon’s gaze swung from her to Muscles, who jumped flat-footed into the water from the short wall, contemplating the best way to kill.
“What’re you doing, Aria?” Falcon wished he could communicate silently with her. He didn’t want Muscles to know how much she meant to him.
“Getting a weapon.” She yanked on the fake, three-foot-wide rock.
Didn’t matter how fake the rock was, it weighed a lot.
The pulsing in his veins accelerated.
Muscles moved forward, imitating a slow-moving barge. He didn’t lift his feet and the squish of water didn’t bother him. He moved toward Falcon at a steady pace, anticipating the kill. The silver of the curved sword swung out again.
