Shattered Secrets (Book of Red #1) (44 page)

She blinked rapidly, stuttering over words, her mouth hanging open. Megan made my heart ache. I ruined her life, Will’s life, Mark’s, Derick’s, and mine. I ruined the world.

“I’ll make it right,” I whispered, heat flaring around my eyes as I tried holding back tears. I needed my parents, their warm arms around me, that gentle touch my mom always gave when she knew I was upset, the comfort of my dad’s tenderness when he was near. Now, because of me, Megan wouldn’t have her parents either. Nothing would be the same.

My strength deflated, and finally the tears fell, only making my chest ache more.

“I don’t blame you, dear Abigail. No one possibly could, not with the strength of Affection on your side—a strong human emotion, no doubt. Just like your father.”

Affection.
The power I’d wanted to understand about myself for so long, now revealed, seemed like the worst thing that could have ever happened. A power that made me question everything. Is this why guys always wanted things from me? Because they were drawn to me for unexplained reasons? Because they felt something they couldn’t explain? Mark had worried about Derick’s abilities drawing me to him, but really the situation was opposite: my ability drew
all of them
—including Will—to me. Did anyone truly love Abigail Nichols?

Aeden turned my chin so he could look straight at me, his lips pressed into a thin line, not hiding his annoyance with me. “You were guided into destruction, but I expected more from the Crawfords, especially with Lillian’s abilities.”

“Do we need to discuss this here?” Derick’s mom pursed her lips. “Let’s go home. Punish us there. Not here on the brink of death and hiding behind my son’s cloak.”

He grinned. “As you wish, but there
will
be punishment for this.”

Maybe Aedan was as evil as the book made him out to be; he certainly didn’t have compassion. He seemed excited by the idea of punishing us, and I didn’t want to be anywhere near him. I pulled away and grabbed Derick.

“Are you okay?” he whispered.

I shook my head, and we made our way toward Mark. “You did horrible, unforgivable things, Mark—”

“I didn’t kill them on purpose.”

“I know. Boredas turned you into a madman… a
murderer
.” No matter how annoying or how much he wanted from me because of my ability, in the end, and despite his missteps, he tried to help. “One day, I’ll help you figure this out.”

“Come on now, Abby. I’ll be okay. We’ll see each other again someday.” Mark shook Derick’s hand. “Take care of her, man.”

“I will.” Derick squeezed my fingers.

I glanced back and caught Aedan staring at us.

“Take care of you, and soon,” I said.

“Will do.” Mark turned and hobbled down the beach, the same direction Boredas went earlier.

Where would they go?

“Will, Megan, you hold onto me and Mr. Crawford here”—Mrs. Crawford indicated her elbows—“and we’ll take care of the rest. Abby, Derick, hold onto each other and stand close to Aedan—”

“Elder Mordha, please, Lillian.”

Her eyes widened, but she straightened her back and cleared her throat. “Elder Mordha, then. Hold on to him, please.”

Once we were all in place, she counted down from five, then Aedan muttered what sounded like parmeekay. A cloud of purple fog rose from our feet and swirled around our skin. Ear-piercing wails replaced the sounds of the gentle waves. Pleas for help, moans of pain, and terrible, inhuman cries cut through me. Bony, crooked fingers pressed into the fog; the thick air made their hands look webbed. Something wanted in, something vile and awful, and possibly deadly.

“What is that?” I asked, but no one responded.

Derick and Aeden felt strong next to me, warm, but motionless. We were traveling through something weird, and I didn’t want to think about what it meant.

The fog lifted, and Megan gasped. We stood on white stone stairs leading up to a building fronted with tall pillars and a sharp peaked roof, set into the base of a lumpy mountain covered in flourishing green plants. People rushed up and down, their clothing elaborate, bright-colored robes draped across the bare chests of men. The women wore chitons decorated with strips of vibrant colors poking out here and there; the long fabrics clasped at the shoulders with intricate metal and pulled up under belts to create a blouse-look. Gold bands roped their hair held back with golden clips, the ends hanging in loose curls.

“Did we just travel to ancient Greece?” Megan’s mouth fell open, and she spun in circles, staring at everything.

People on the streets pushed wooden carts full of meats and cheeses. Some men and women wore muscled chest armor and carried spears; they raced past us, mumbling things about “war” and “it’s been too long” or “we aren’t prepared”.

The Crawfords, grim faced yet with eyes nearly as wide as Megan’s, motioned for us to follow them up the steps. We crossed through a vast entryway and into the marbled-floor foyer of what could have been a library, except there weren’t any books. Dark wooden tables lined the center of the room, and men and women stood around them, looking at maps and writings, all of them too lost in conversations to notice us walk in.

“What is this place?” Will took a step forward.

Aedan clapped his shoulder and pulled him back. “This is our command center, and where we all part ways.” He cleared his throat, sending a wave of energy crackling through the room; the commotion stopped, and everyone set their gaze on him. “Now that I have your attention, I’d like you all to meet Abigail Doran.”

No one said a word, but one man, with broad shoulders and a square face marked with deep crease lines, broke his way out of the center of the tables and marched toward Aedan.

“Ahh, Melos, please show Adam and Lillian Crawford to the holding cells—”

“Excuse me?” Derick wore a perfected look of stoicism, his emotions impossible to read.

“This must be their son.” Melos chuckled and turned Derick’s cheek from side to side. “Yes, he has his father’s long nose.”

I withheld my urge to punch Melos. “Why are you taking them to holding cells? The Crawfords have done everything in their power to help me, and I’m not going anywhere without them or Derick—or Will and Megan for that matter.”

“Abby, honey, it’s okay.” Mrs. Crawford separated from our group and stood beside Melos, then leaned close to my ear and whispered, “I believe the Taker used the book to put you right where he wanted you. Stay alert.” She straightened and spoke her next words much louder, “We have many things to account for, and to learn. We may have all been tricked, but Mr. Crawford and I were derelict in our duty. Our friends have died under our watch, and even one of your friends is now a monster. Punishment is expected, and we understand that.”

“You can’t be serious, Mom.” Derick shoved Melos out of the way and towered over her, not threatening, more childlike, concerned. All the stoicism lost.

“She is,” Mr. Crawford said, joining his wife’s side. “And you should let this go before your anger causes us—and you—further trouble.”

“Touching.” Melos locked eyes with Aedan. “What shall I do with him, sir?”

“Take him and the other two down to meet Alexander. A little servant labor should do their muscles some good—”

Megan started crying.

I smacked Aedan, and a collective gasp shot through the hall. “Have you
any
respect for people outside yourself? You can’t just take them away from everything they’ve known and make them servants. How dare you! You’re supposed to be good.”

Aedan motioned for another man, a gray-haired, stout man with a round belly. “Bartholomew, please escort Miss Doran up to her family’s quarters, and notify Katherine of her arrival. I’m sure Abigail’s aunt would love to meet her, and maybe teach her some manners.”

“And another thing. My name isn’t Doran. My name is Abigail Nichols.”

“Very well.” The man offered his hand. “Come along, then, Miss Doran.”

I growled, planting my feet firmly in place. “Nichols.”

All I had left of the family and life I once knew was about to march off in different directions. Punishment, servitude, and God only knows what waited for them. And for me, a new family member, someone who probably wanted to groom me to be a good girl. But someone who knew my
blood
mother and father, someone who would have time to teach me about me.

Derick’s parents wanted us to let them go, but they never said to let
him
go, and I couldn’t bring myself to do it without a fight.

“No. Not without my friends.” I crossed my arms over my chest.

“On second thought, Melos, why don’t you shackle these three and take them to the prison cells.”

“
No
.” Derick’s mom dropped to her knees. “She doesn’t understand, Aedan. Her life has been empty of our home and rules. Don’t punish her and these other children because of that ignorance. This is not their fault.”

“I won’t send them away unless she makes me. The choice is hers.”

Mrs. Crawford begged me with her eyes, looking as though my answer defined whether she’d live five more minutes or thirty more years. I couldn’t let her down, not after everything we’d been through.

I swallowed. Hard. “I’ll go.”

Any remaining happiness I had inside fizzled out and left me unable to be angry or cry or fight. I met Derick’s eyes and felt him slipping away, too. He stared at me, no love in his expression, no hatred either. Derick was in shock.

His biggest fear after we read the book was that he’d only be fit to serve me, and here that fear came to life.

“Let’s be off.” Bartholomew wrapped his stubby hand around mine and dragged me away as I glanced back and watched my world collapse.

had no idea where we were. The chubby old man took us up stairs, across open, sandy-colored marble catwalks overlooking a sea of the deepest blues and greens I’d ever seen, through dark tunnels lit only by an occasional torch. Now we stood outside a short vertically-slatted door in the center of a dim corridor.

“This is it.” He fished a key out of a pocket in the front of his crimson robes. “I sure hope Alexander’s crew kept the place clean.” Turning the knob, he pushed open the door. “Ahh. I see he has. Good man.”

Bartholomew led me into the home my parents used to share, a simple space decorated by two couches with textiles in reds and yellows; a table with an oval-shaped piece of smoky glass on a stand, a few yellowed pieces of paper, and leather-bound books; tall golden vases covered in ornate swirling designs.

“Amaz—” Clamping my mouth closed, I stopped myself from finishing that comment. I wouldn’t give anyone the satisfaction. Not when they’d taken so much from me.

Bartholomew lumbered across the room, his hands clasped behind his back, then pulled two huge red draperies back, revealing an open balcony. I followed him out and had to bite my tongue again. This house was set inside an alcove, mountains on either side of the balcony, and looked out at the sea. A warm breeze lifted my hair, and I couldn’t help but grin at the sun reflecting off the gentle waves.

“Well, I think I know why Brendan and Marla enjoyed staying in here so much.” He went to the door and smiled at me. “I’ll fetch your aunt and have a seamstress measure you for some clothes. You cannot walk around in undergarments the rest of your life.”