Reign of Shadows (12 page)

Chapter Twenty-seven

Aern

The disagreements had ended the moment Wesley had revealed the extent of the shadow’s draw on Brianna, but they’d still spent the better part of an hour reexamining every angle and trying to decipher what other powers he might hold. Aern could see that it was weighing on Brianna, so he’d sent one of the messengers down for refreshments and some food. They’d taken seats around a small table in front of the desk, Logan leaning on the arm of Brianna’s chair and Emily pacing behind Aern while Wesley studied his power, attempting to feel out how it worked in comparison to his brief encounter with the shadow.

A knock on the door preceded their delivery, and Aern was surprised to see Ava had brought the tray in herself. She was wearing a charcoal suit, hair pulled back in a
precise bun as she leaned over to place the tray on the low table between them. Her legs were bare below the knee, long and lean with the help of a pair of spiked heels, and Wesley’s gaze fell to the floor. Aern let the boy rest, releasing the energy he’d been sending out, and glanced at Brianna to be sure she intended to take a respite as well. Her mouth was twisted into a grimace, vacant stare aimed toward the tray where Ava poured steaming water into several stark white teacups.

She murmured,
“Acacius,” clearly lost in thought, and Ava fumbled the pot, hissing as boiling water caught the edge of her hand. Ava wasn’t a soldier, so she’d not been included when Brianna had given the Council and Division men the connections that allowed them to heal faster. The sound of pain brought Brianna out of her stupor though, and she reached forward to brush a hand over Ava’s and give her that gift.

In that instant, three thi
ngs happened simultaneously.

Ava’s
scalded hand flinched back, not in fear, but to flip over and aim palms-out with the other at Brianna. Logan, seeing something in the woman’s gaze before she’d even reacted, launched himself from the arm of the chair, crashing shoulder-first into Ava’s chest and throwing them both through the low table, which shot water, ceramic, and splintered wood onto the lot of them. Wesley, his power letting him feel the strike Ava had released and giving him the advantage of certainty, came to his feet yelling, “
Shadow!
”

One second th
ey were having tea and the next the room was chaos. Fire erupted from the woman beneath Logan, searing his shirt, the floor, and the fabric of the chairs before the rest of them had a chance to even move. Brianna sat staring, in shock, and Aern rushed to her, shoving her chair back and away from the melee of the floor. The wood beneath them shook, and Logan was hurled off the woman’s form, landing solidly against the far wall as she leapt to her feet. Wesley jumped in front of her and she thrust a hand out, catching him in the chest with a crunch of bone, knocking him back and clear of the circle of chairs. Emily was suddenly behind her, gripping the woman’s head with both hands, and Aern dove over rubble that was seconds ago the table to catch their attacker’s midsection and twist her down once more.

She was too strong. With one hand, she wrenched Emily free, tossing her back as if she were nothing
and driving a pulse into Aern that blasted him backward into the wood-plank floor. Brianna was on her feet, hands raised, hair lifting as the air around her moved for her first strike, but the shadow was faster, closing the distance to grab Brianna around the neck before any of them could react. Aern could feel Brianna pushing against her, but he knew it wasn’t enough. He knew because Brianna was scared. Not of the woman, not of the idea that she might be close to death. She was scared that this was it. That she’d failed to save them.

Aern struggled to his feet, the crushing pain
in his chest knitting back together as he moved, and the air changed around them again. It wasn’t the same as Brianna’s power, not a tingle over his skin like Emily or the other shadows. This was different. It was hard to breathe, every point around him suddenly thick and heavy. The smallest movements were a burden, and it was affecting each of them, their reactions hindered, delayed as if time had slowed. Emily gasped, crawling to her knees beside him, and both their gazes went to Logan, who’d just appeared behind Brianna, tattered shirt falling away from his chest and shoulder to reveal a large, ugly burn.

There was a glow within his eyes, the amber a furious gold that Aern had never seen.
His chin was lowered, the muscles of his neck and shoulders straining against the effort of his attack. He was not scared, not even for Brianna. Because he knew he was going to save her, no matter what it took. There was a muted cracking sound, followed by a string of loud pops, and the fire suppression system gave way to the pressure. The blink of a pair of small red lights followed, the alarm system being tripped, and Aern shoved Emily to her feet and toward the others.

She didn’t hesitate, locking her arms around the woman’s neck as Logan forced the pressure further, causing Aern’s head to throb with each pulse of his heart. Finally standing, he fought to reach them, watching as Emily wrapped her feet about the woman’s waist
, tethering herself against her defenses. Overcome, the shadow’s hold on Brianna’s neck loosened, and Logan caught Brianna at the waist, pushing her aside to grip her attacker with his own hands. There was another shift, and the moment Logan touched the shadow, Aern felt light, suddenly free to move and breathe. He launched himself too hard into them and there was a roar as their powers collided. A strange muffled snapping came from within the woman as Logan’s power broke her, and Emily screamed, “I’ve got her!” as she seized the links she needed to burn through the shadow’s power. The three of them fell to the floor, and Aern felt the warm wetness against his back that must have been their tea. The heat of it made him question whether it had truly happened that fast.

P
anting, Logan shoved the woman aside, leaving Emily and Aern free of her weight. Brianna looked sick, but her cheeks were flushed, the blood rushing back where it’d been denied, her neck bright. She glanced at them, apparently deciding they would live, and then rushed to Wesley, kneeling at his side to place a hand over his chest. The boy was struggling for air, unable to catch a full breath. She slid a palm beneath his neck, tilting his head back, and murmured something Aern couldn’t hear.

The door to the office slammed open, the soldiers responding to the alarm, and Aern knew it had, in fact, happened
just that fast.
Seconds
. He threw a hand out, catching Logan’s proffered arm, and pulled himself to his feet to face them. His chest heaved, the intake of breath burning as he said, “We have it. Help the boy.”

The men
lowered their weapons, rushing to aid Wesley and Brianna.

“Augh,” Emily said from beside him. Her palm pressed against her chest, rubbing away her own pain. She winced, aiming a narrowed gaze at Logan. “You really need to work on focusing that tighter.”

Logan dropped back onto a ruined chair, too exhausted to even nod, and Aern held a hand out to Emily. He didn’t ask her if she was okay, because he could feel that she would be. Instead, he only brushed a thumb over the back of her hand, squeezing it tight within his.

“Take her to the
Cook rooms,” Aern said, gesturing toward Ava’s prone form. She wasn’t moving, but Aern knew at some point she would wake up. And even if she’d no longer be a danger, he wanted her locked away. His eyes connected with the soldier in front of her. “Tell no one.”

She was a shadow
, hiding in plain sight of the Council and their business. And they’d not even suspected her.

***

When Wesley was carried from the room via stretcher, Emily and Logan catching their breath on the two remaining chairs, Brianna’s gaze had caught on Aern. There was something there, some recognition that aside from the fact that she and her sister hadn’t been burned in the other attack, another detail had gone unnoticed among the chaos. This shadow, and the ones days before, hadn’t given more than a thought to Emily. She’d barely gotten a scratch, and when she’d attacked them full-force, they’d only defended themselves in the barest possible manner. He couldn’t know what it meant, couldn’t understand why, but their focus had been solely on destroying Brianna. The dark-haired man had said he’d saved her because he needed her, because she was the one they wanted. This new realization might not have given Aern an answer, but it certainly had removed all doubt. This wasn’t a fluke. These shadows were planning something, and it only required one sister.

As
he looked at Brianna now, he could see that she’d tucked it away, hidden the concern from Emily until she understood the implications of it. They’d moved to a secondary office in the same suite, Logan in a clean shirt where he relaxed into a narrow leather sofa, Brianna close beside him. Emily sat on a spindle chair across from them, her elbows perched on either side over the thinly padded arms, fingers pressed to her temples.

“So,” she said, “what do we do with her now?”

Ava had been locked away, but her presence would be missed. Something would have to be done, and announcing that shadows were hiding among the ranks—that they could be born and raised within Council—would not go over smoothly. While they could create a story for her disappearance, she would eventually recover.

Or the other shadows would come looking for her.

Brianna leaned forward, shrugging. “We use her.”

Emily’s eyes squeezed shut. “And how, do you propose, we do that?”

Expression suddenly bright, Brianna answered, “It’s just like you said.” She pointed to her sister—“You burn her”--gestured at Aern—“Aern sways her”—and then her palms turned up, shoulders lifting—“and we just walk right into the bad guy lair.”

Emily stared at the ceiling, regretting
the words now that they were being used against her. But she hadn’t taken them to heart.

Aern sig
hed, running a hand over his face. “She’s serious.”

“Yes,” Brianna said, “I am.”

“Bri,” Emily started, but her words were cut short by Brianna’s argument.

“No
. I’m sick of sitting here waiting to be attacked. You want to stop this…--she hesitated, the dark-haired man’s name not coming easily from her lips—“Callan?” Her eyes locked on Emily. “Then let’s do it. Let’s find out what he’s after before it’s too late.”

Emily’s mouth twisted, but taking action wasn’t exactly the kind of thing she disagreed with in general.

“You know it’s true,” Brianna said. “You know there’s something, some small step that’s keeping us alive right now. The moment they decide, when the switch flips, there will be nothing we can do to stop them.”

Chapter Twenty-eight

Brianna

“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” Emily muttered.

“You’ve had a week to think of something better,” Brianna replied. “I would have gladly taken a less idiotic suggestion
than my own.” Brianna couldn’t help but smile at using the word Emily had repeated each time she’d mentioned the plan in the previous six days, but the prospect of actually going through with it was anything but funny. “Now pay attention, the show’s about to start.”

Ava’s connections were thoroughly burnt, but she still retained a bit of the healing that was apparently natural to the shadows. She’d only woken earlier in the morning, nearly a week after the attack, but given the extent of her injuries, it was still fairly impressive.

They stood in the center of one of the security-heavy Cook rooms, watching as Aern prepared to sway Ava into telling them what would hopefully be valuable information. Eric and Seth had joined them, as had Kara, who should have been using a cane or crutches but rejected the idea of anything that might make her look weak. All three looked the worse for wear. Their wounds were healing, but had been gnarly, particularly in the case of Kara, who’d remained on her feet in the fight longer than either of the men. She’d lost most of her hair, though, and it was now shorn into a severe pixie cut that somehow made her look even fiercer than before.

Brianna knew they were healing fast, and though the shadows couldn’t match their speed, it seemed they surpassed the Seven in durability. She felt absently for the
older scar that marked her own side, no more than a thin ridge of pale skin now, and couldn’t help but recall the battle with Morgan. It had seemed like such an end-all at the time, a fight that was larger than life, that would lead to the death of so many humans and destruction of the Seven. The notion had been right, she supposed, if only for what these shadows had planned. But Morgan was nothing compared to them.

The thought gave her pause as she watched Aern, because Morgan had been just as strong
as his brother. The power her mother had freed in him had given Morgan that same sense, the same ability to sway. She could recall him now, the way he’d seen with no more than a glance that Aern had created the union with her sister, that Emily was the one. He’d understood, completely and without reservation, that he’d been beaten. He’d not given up, by any means, and that was why he’d thrust that last thought into Aern. He’d made his brother stab her, because if he couldn’t win, then he would destroy any chance the rest of them had. But that wasn’t all Brianna was thinking, because now that she knew the shadows were after her,
specifically
her, she couldn’t help but wonder why Aern’s knife, at Morgan’s command, had found its way into her side and not Emily’s. Why they wanted so badly to kill a prophet. And how they were hiding it from her.

Ava moaned, coming awake again, her eyes barely opening
to her audience. Aern spoke to her, his tone low and even, and then withdrew his hands from her skin. He turned to Emily and Brianna with a nod.

“There you go,” Emily whispered. “Ask her anything you want.”

Brianna moved closer to the woman, stopping at Aern’s side where he stood near the edge of her bed. She felt the others move too, Logan and Emily, all of them nearing to hear the shadow’s confession.

“Who are you?” Brianna
said, gaze boring into the dull dark eyes of her attacker. The power was gone. She was empty.

The woman’s brow drew down in pain and she whispered out a hoarse, “Ava.”

Brianna glanced at Aern, who lifted his shoulder in the slightest of shrugs. The woman couldn’t lie, but if she believed the reality she’d been swayed to believe, it would feel truthful to her.

Brianna asked, “Why are you here?” and the woman blinked, as if only
then realizing she was being questioned.

“To watch,” she answered. “To watch the prophet, to watch the chosen.
”

The others couldn’t have
lied to her about that, they couldn’t sway her from her purpose and still allow her to complete the task. “For whom?” Brianna said. “Who do you report to?”

“Jackson,” she answered, but her eyes squeezed
shut tight. “No. No, he has another name.” Her head rocked from side to side, searching.

“Callan,” Aern said quietly.

The woman’s gaze cleared as she nodded. “Yes, Callan.” Her eyes found Brianna. “His name is Callan.”

“What do you know of him?” Brianna said.

She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came. Aern placed his hand over her arm and after a moment, she said, “Your contact is Callan. Report
only
to Callan.”

Brianna didn’t know if the woman was repeating back her orders, or if something was broken inside of her. She kn
ew it didn’t always work right—she’d seen it happen to some of Morgan’s men; the way they’d formed blank spots, mental blocks, and couldn’t always find the thoughts they were looking for. “Who else is there, Ava? Who does Callan report to?”

“She doesn’t know,” Aern said. “And she’s scared.”

“We aren’t going to hurt you,” Brianna offered, but Aern shifted beside her and she realized that was not what he’d meant. The woman wasn’t afraid of them, not of Brianna or the Seven. She was afraid of Callan.

“He can’t get you here,” Brianna
promised. “Ava, we need to find this Callan. Can you tell us where to go? How you contact him?”

She shook her head. “Only when he says. Only when they’re in danger.”

“Ava,” Aern whispered, “they are in danger. How do we find Callan?”

She swallowed hard, closing her eyes against the pain, and Brianna could see they were losing her. She might wake again, but they weren’t getting very far with this. “How?” Brianna repeated. “Tell us
how, Ava.”

She rattled off a number, too many digits for a phone, not enough for coordinates. “Where is the device?” Logan said
from behind them, his tone level.

“Jacket lining,”
the woman mumbled, never opening her eyes.

Aern
gave Brianna a look, warning her that the woman was fading to sleep, and Brianna leaned closer, squeezing her own hand over the woman’s arm beside Aern’s. “Who is Acacius?” she said. “You recognized his name, Ava. What do you know?”

Her wince was barely perceptible, face too slack to form the expression. Her breath hitched before falling into a shallow rhythm. “Never speak of the disgraced. That
name is dead to us.”

***

“Well, that was helpful,” Emily muttered. They sat in Brianna’s suite, Logan tearing the
lining free of Ava’s suit jacket, feeling for the device that would code them in to the dark-haired man. It reminded Brianna too much of the letter, her mother’s handwritten confession sealed within the blanket of her prison cell, and she had to look away.

“What,” she
said to her sister, “you were hoping there’d be nothing to find and we’d have to abandon the plan?”

Emily shrugged. “A little, yeah.”

Brianna smiled, but it was only half-hearted. “You may still get your wish.”

Logan’s knife clicked against the
surface of the polished wood table, and he drew a thin, credit-card-like device from within the material. He held it up for a moment, examining, and then his gaze met Aern’s.

“What?” Brianna said. “What is it?”

Logan gave her an apologetic smile. “A simple two-way transmitter. We can track it in about five minutes.”

She shook her head, not understanding. “Why is that bad?”

Logan laid the thin black square on the remnants of Ava’s jacket. “Because it means he doesn’t care if anyone finds him.”

Emily cursed, moving to stand, and Aern reached for the device. “I’ll take this down to Cooper. Brianna’s already had a chance to check him out.” He wouldn’t
risk telling anyone else. Not after Ava.

“Just the eight of us,” Brianna said, knowing Wesley was still too hurt to join. He’d been healing well, and he was awake, but the shadow had broken so much inside of him. He was lucky to be alive. “And Logan’s team,” she added, finding his hand with hers.

Aern nodded, glancing at the device once more, and Logan brushed his thumb over Brianna’s palm. “Are you sure about this, Bri? It’s not too late to change your mind.”

She took a steadying breath, said, “Yes.” Because they were wrong. So wrong. They couldn’t see what she’d seen, didn’t know the extent of their situation. But Brianna knew. She’d lived the visions and met the future. The dark-haired man was the least of their problems.

And it was too late to change
anything
.