Shattered Secrets (Book of Red #1) (46 page)

BOOK: Shattered Secrets (Book of Red #1)
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“Thank you, Elyn. I’ll send for you if there is a problem with the dress.”

The young girl frowned but handed over her glass filled with oil, bowed her head, then fled the Doran’s home.

“Thanks. It’s odd enough having you see me stark naked, but at least you’re family.”

Katherine grabbed my upper arm with one hand and held out a knife with her other. “Hush, Abigail. I’ve worked tirelessly to ensure your safety, but now it’s your turn. Your friends didn’t die on that beach because I sent you a message, through our blood, because I knew you wouldn’t be able to deal with the grief more death brought you. Not after everything else. And I knew Aedan would use them as reason to keep you away from Kalós; he’d try to sell you as unfit for our land.”

I eyed the shiny metal in her hands.

She clucked her tongue. “Oh, come now. I don’t plan to hurt you. You’re going to strap this on your thigh. Your dress will hide it, though the pants you requested earlier never would have.”

“What’s this for? Why do I need a knife?”

“Aedan.”

“But the book lied to everyone. He’s a jerk, but he’s not a murderer.”

“You still believe the opposite of things that book told you? You are so lost, child. Aedan wasn’t a Guardian-killing murderer, but he is a stern leader, one who truly loves his position as Elder. Now that you’re here, he’s afraid you’ll replace him.” Katherine sat on her knees and worked a leather strap around my thigh, making the nerves in my leg skitter.

I really wished she’d waited until I had
some
clothes on.

“I don’t want to replace him.” I wanted Derick and movies and
The Hobbit
and The Griffin bookstore and Stafford High School and Truslow Road on foggy mornings. I wanted the Capitol Ale House, the pork shank Derick and I always shared. I wanted ice cream on the hood of the Mustang with him. I wanted dance classes while he peeked through the square window and smiled every time he met my eyes. I wanted to cheer him on while he ran track. I wanted Mom and Dad and trips to the mountains. “I just want my life back.”

“We have about five minutes before someone comes for you, and I’d prefer we meet them in the hall. Aedan and Melos are going to introduce you to a higher spirit tonight, after dinner—which will be laced with sleeping potions, so don’t eat—and there will be an incident. I don’t know much more than that, but you will need this knife if you want to defend yourself. Put this on. I’ll go get your dress.”

Returning to her feet, she handed me a bottle of oil then fled. Katherine paused at the door and glanced back at me. “And if you survive tonight, I’ll see what we can do to get your life back. I promised your mother that a long time ago, and now I’m making that promise to you.”

Derick

ou move quickly, Derick Crawford. This will serve you well.” Alexander leaned against the wall, hand pressed to his bony chest.

I paced the few feet of space I dared move away from him. This place defied architectural logic with a maze of tunnels, dark hallways, and secret passageways, and I couldn’t afford to get lost. “All I have to do is climb these stairs, throw the potion you gave me, and wait?”

“Yes.”

“What about the people who see the future, the Cognizants? Won’t they know we’re coming and warn Aedan?”

Gasping for air, he hunched forward and shook his head. “Anyone who sees our plans will not stop us. They show loyalty to no one, only the truth. Besides, they are so frequently wrong that many do not believe most of what they predict.”

I opened my mouth to argue, to say that from what I read in that book visions are nearly impossible to change, but then I remembered the book lied, about almost everything, and that my mother couldn’t even see this coming. “This still seems too easy.”

“It is easy.” He straightened his back, regaining the small amount of composure he displayed earlier when speaking to Melos. “Aedan suspects nothing of this frail old man. No one ever has. But frailty is often underestimated.” Alexander glanced up the winding staircase. “Count to two after you hear the door open, throw the potion, hold your breath, grab your girl, then sneak back down to me. I’ll lead you to the dining hall, explain what I overheard and what I witnessed you do, and then beg for forgiveness.”

“Forgiveness? Why? You’re doing the right thing by helping us.”

“You’re correct. I am doing the right thing.” The corners of his mouth lifted but quickly fell into a deep frown, a fragment of a smile, a fragment of happiness. Alexander was conflicted. “But I am also making a choice between the life of Abigail Doran and the life of Aedan Mordha. And life, no matter how cut-throat or vicious its carrier may be, is precious and should not be ended lightly.”

I wiped my hand over my sweaty face. “What’s in that room, Alexander?”

He removed a small blade from a swath of robe draped across his shoulder and pressed the weapon on my palm. “A spirit of rage. Now, go!”

“Thank you.” Running up the stairs two at a time, I went over the plan again and again. Leaving Aedan and Melos behind wouldn’t be murder, would it? Were Alexander and I taking someone’s life or protecting it? Did the distinction matter?

Would I be able to live with myself if I left someone to die?

I reached the top and crouched near a short door to wait for Abby. If there was anyone in the world I’d kill for, it would be her.

Abigail

I finally smiled. I couldn’t help it. The gray ribbons wrapped around my torso, forming an ‘x’ between two horizontal lines, drew attention to all the right places. Katherine pinned a floor-length cape of thick blue silk to one of my shoulders and pulled up my now curly hair with a comb full of silver leaves.

My aunt joined me by the mirror and narrowed her eyes. “Don’t forget how much danger you’re in, Abigail.”

How could I forget? Aedan wanted to kill me, and he’d be the one sitting next to me tonight. Then, according to my aunt, he’d be the one leading me to my planned destruction by a spirit of rage—apparently one of the strongest Fávlosi, and the very one who killed my birth parents.

“Now remember, you will walk behind Aedan and Melos. When they are not looking—and trust me they never are—slip your hand through the slit I cut into the side of your dress here”—she pulled at the linen hanging loosely at my thigh—“and arm yourself. You will have two seconds to take a deep breath and barrel into that room, but be careful. This spirit is powerful in the art of disguises. Before you drive your knife into anything, make sure you’re attacking the right beast.”

“How do I do that?”

“You’re a Guardian; you open plane doors that others cannot see. You are immune to most powers possessed by Kalóans. So you tell me, Abigail: how do you do it?”

Derick’s dad read my mind, and his mom witnessed my future. Mr. Snellings controlled my emotions. But I saw Boredas in the restaurant when no one else could, and every time Derick used his Romancing abilities, I realized something was off. Almost anything with impact on vision didn’t affect me—all of this meant seeing truth was an inherent ability and I didn’t have any secondary abilities. This meant Derick
never
Romanced me and that the only thing his kiss did was make me more powerful, make me see things I should have already seen. Maybe I could use this to my advantage, protect myself from people with the wrong intentions. “Does anyone else know I’m immune to certain powers?”

Katherine laughed and steered me out the door and into the hall. “Only anyone who’s ever spent time near a Guardian.”

“But none have lived here for…” How long after my birth did my parents wait to evacuate? Did they ever spend time with me, or did they ship me off to live with the Nichols family the day I was born?

“For seventeen years, eight months, and nearly four weeks. Your birthday is tomorrow, is it not?”

I’d nearly forgotten my own birthday, the magic eighteen. The novelty of freedom the big one-eight brings wore off when I ran away, lost my parents, lost Mark, and almost destroyed Longboat Key; the change in age no longer seemed important. “I guess so.”

“You look just like her, but you have the personality of your father. You’re astute, incredibly curious, and kind—the way you cared for that murderer, sympathized with him while on the beach. Brendan was the kindest man I knew. Your mother would be pleased; she worried you’d be like her.” Katherine stopped walking. All color drained from her cheeks, leaving nothing but pale skin and incredibly confused eyes, the shade never quite sure if it wanted to be brown or blue. Right now, they appeared more brown. Katherine gripped my shoulders. “And you are like her, as well. You
showed
Derick truth when you touched him on the beach. He couldn’t see through the Safe Zone until you touched him. What a rare power, indeed. I have only ever known one other person to pos—”

“Good evening, ladies,” a man said, rounding the dark corner, interrupting the rest of the revelation my aunt wanted to share with me. No, not a man—a teenager. A tall, muscular teenager with tan skin, curly blond hair, and light brown eyes. He wore a blue silk robe that matched my cape. “I’ve come to escort Abigail to dinner.”

“Creiton, I didn’t expect you to come all the way up here.” Katherine nudged me toward him. “But since you have come, you may as well go down together.”

I stood awkwardly between them, staring over my shoulder at my aunt, who’d failed to mention anything about anyone escorting me to dinner like this. Was this a date? So now I had to worry about the safety of the Crawfords, Will, Megan, and Derick; Aedan and Melos’s plan for me; how to use a cold piece of metal strapped to my thigh; and sitting next to a stranger who dressed as if someone had already paired us together.

Great. Just freaking great.

“I’ve heard a lot about you.”

I jumped back a foot.

Creiton laughed.

“Sorry. I had no idea you were standing so close to me.” Creep.

“I’ll make a note that you’re easily startled.” He offered his arm, a radiant smile making his long face look as if it belonged to a billboard model.

I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to
touch
this guy. I knew allowing Creiton to escort me wasn’t betraying Derick, but that didn’t mean I had to go willingly. So I stood there, hands clasped behind my back.

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