Unearthly, The (9 page)

My eye caught the title of the final chapter, “The Last of the Sirens.” Bookmark forgotten, I flipped to the end of the book.

I skimmed through the history of the Kallos lineage for a few pages before I found what I was looking for.

Celeste Kallos was the last siren to make it to adulthood.

I skimmed through her childhood, which was interesting, but not currently important, until I found a section of text that seemed relevant.

After a successful entrance into the music industry, Celeste began living with Santiago Fiori, a union considered quite controversial by the supernatural world.

Four years later, Celeste gave birth to Santiago’s daughter, Gabrielle Fiori. Some found the news miraculous, others a sign of the apocalypse, and others still debunked the idea, claiming the child was the result of an outside relationship. The couple refused to do a paternity test, knowing that the outcome would expose them to negative media attention.

But the test didn’t make a difference. On a bright spring morning, police found the body of Celeste abandoned on the side of an English country road. Evidence led investigators to believe it was a hate crime.

I closed the book. I didn’t need to read the rest. I wiped away a stray tear. I’d found the answers I was looking for. A father who was sired by Andre de Leon and killed by fire. A mother who was born into a dying race and murdered by hate. This was my legacy.

***

When I entered my dorm room that evening, Leanne was lacing up a pair of hiking shoes. Next to her sat an open satchel filled with empty Ziploc bags.

“Going somewhere?” I asked, eyebrows raised.

“I have some clan homework. Want to come with?”

“Where exactly are you going?”

“There’s a shady grove near an entrance to the Otherworld. The herbs that grow there are especially powerful for divining the future.”

“Sounds safe.”

Leanne rolled her eyes. “Says the girl who plays with vampires and dodges hit men.”

“Touché.”

“So, are you coming?”

I sighed. “Count me in.”

I had just changed into something outdoorsy when Oliver barged into our room. “Hey ladies
—
” He took in our outfits. “Where are you guys going, and why wasn’t I invited?”

“We’ll be out in the wilderness, and hiking is involved,” Leanne said as she threw a couple empty vials into her bag. “I assumed it went without saying.”

Oliver put his hands on his hips and turned to me. “It does
not
go without saying.”

I looked at him incredulously. “You actually want to come along?”

He sniffed. “I happened to love the outdoors. I am a fairy after all.”

***

“I hate you both,” Oliver said as the branch I let go of wacked him in the face. “Why did you make me come along?”

“I thought you
loved
the outdoors,” I said, snickering. Oliver muttered something not so nice under his breath.

“Aren’t we near your home?”

“Trust me, the Otherworld leaves plenty to be desired. I’d choose this world any day,” he said.

“Fair enough.”

Suddenly Leanne dropped to her knees. I thought she had found what she was looking for until she lurched forward. Before she hit her head, I managed to catch her. Not realizing that we had stopped, Oliver tripped over the two of us and pitched forward.

“Aiiieeeee!” he squealed. I heard a splat and then, “Ugh, mud! My designer jeans are ruined!”

I ignored Oliver and held Leanne as her eyes stared beyond me, watching something only she could see. After thirty seconds she was back.

She blinked a few times. “Sorry about that. There’s powerful magic out here.”

“What did you see?” I asked.

Her brows furrowed. “I’m not sure. It all happened in the dark. But it looked like two men
—
they were definitely criminals. All I really caught was that they were listening to a soccer game on the radio
—
so they must’ve been in a car. I think someone else was there, but I can’t be sure. It was so dark.”

“Do all your premonitions happen this way?”

“Pretty much,” Leanne sat up, “although they are usually less forceful than that one.”

Oliver moaned a few feet away. “Oh, I see how it is. No one cares about me. Please, continue chatting about visions.”

“We better go help the princess,” Leanne said.

We got Oliver back on his feet and began walking again
—
albeit to the chorus of his complaints. Ahead of us the forest brightened, hurting my eyes.

“I think we’re almost there,” I said, mesmerized by the ethereal beauty of what I was seeing. This must be the grove.

The wind carried a melody, sung by some unseen being. I wondered how Oliver and Leanne were experiencing this. For me it was easy to imagine a nearby door to the Otherworld.

Before we got closer, Leanne said, “I think we should stop here. We don’t want to accidently annoy the wee folk.”

“Too late,” Oliver chimed in, “you already have.”

“You should’ve just stayed home like I said.”

“Hmph.”

We spent the better part of an hour groping for herbs. My night vision hardly helped, since I had no idea how to distinguish plants.

It was as I leaned against a tree, taking a break, that I heard a chuckle. I whipped around.

The man in the suit. The wee folk. An attacker.
The thoughts quickly entered and exited my mind as Andre stepped out of the shadows.

The pulse of energy that usually accompanied him was absent, probably tampered down by the stronger thrum of the Otherworld. I breathed him in; the scent of expensive cologne barely covered up a masculine smell that was distinctly Andre.

“Cute outfit,” he said, running his eyes over my tennis shoes, tight exercise pants, and fitted shirt
—
and probably a few leaves that clung to them.

“What are you doing here? And how did you find me?” I hissed, alarmed by his presence and annoyed that he was laughing at me.

He smirked, his eyes roving over me. “I have my ways.” He turned his attention to Oliver, who was sitting up in a tree to avoid the mud, and Leanne, who crouched behind a cluster of shrubs, before looking back at me.

“Playing hide-and-go-seek with your friends?” I narrowed my eyes. “You should’ve asked me. I play a much more fun version.”

I rubbed my temples. “Please, Andre not now …”

His smile faded and he got serious. “You should be more careful. Being out here with these two might actually be more unsafe than being out at night alone.”

He comes from a different time. Don’t freak out. Don’t freak out.

He folded his arms, waiting for my reaction.

“Why exactly, are you here?” I managed to say.

“Escorting you to claim your father’s inheritance
—
unless of course you don’t want the small fortune he left for you.”

***

My “small” fortune ended up being over three hundred million dollars. I choked on my coffee, which Andre had bought for me after we’d left my friends at the dorms.

“Congratulations Ms. Fiori, you are now a millionaire
—
a few times over,” said Mr. Taylor, the manager of my father’s estate. I smoothed down my shirt to do something with my hands. Thankfully I’d showered and changed before I came.

According to Andre, Mr. Taylor was another seer
—
a type of supernatural I was beginning to suspect was quite common
—
and his talents allowed him to successfully manage the accounts of several high-profile supernaturals, including my dad.

Three hundred million dollars. That was more money than I’d ever dreamed of owning. While Andre waited in the lobby, Mr. Taylor and I went over how the money was to be distributed to me, suggestions for investing the money, and a referral to another man who I should talk to.

I thanked him for his help. As I got up to go, he said, “Oh, and one more thing Ms. Fiori.”

I paused. His tone had changed. “Your father left something for you in a safety deposit box with instructions that, if you ever found me and claimed your inheritance, you should access it as soon as possible.”

If
I ever claimed my inheritance? Was my father hoping or expecting that I wouldn’t?

“He left the box number and the key with me.” Mr. Taylor handed me an envelope that contained the key and the instructions for accessing the deposit box.

His hand shook slightly as I took the envelope from him. Spooked by his reaction, I asked, “What’s in it?”

He rubbed his thick salt and pepper mustache. “I don’t know, but whatever it is, it was of utmost importance to him that you receive it.”

He turned away from me, busying himself by putting away his pen and notepad.

Then I smelled it
—
fear. I knew Mr. Taylor wasn’t scared of me. We’d been talking for over an hour, so I would’ve picked up on his fear by now if I were the cause. No, this was something much, much worse than an undead teenager.

I leaned over the desk. “What are you not telling me?”

Reluctantly he refocused on me. I could see the whites of his eyes. “Whatever is in that safety deposit box indirectly killed a five-hundred-year-old vampire. Be careful of whom you trust. Sometimes knowledge from the dead has a way of cursing the living.”

Chapter 14

The twinkling lights
and softly lit lamps cast a warm glow throughout the French restaurant. Off in the distance I could hear the ocean crashing on the shore. Andre watched me from across the table, looking so handsome it hurt.

“You ready?”

I paused, my soupspoon poised in the air, midway to my mouth. “Ready for what?” After we had left Mr. Taylor’s office, Andre had insisted on taking me out to dinner. Considering it was 9:00 p.m., and I hadn’t eaten since lunch, I took him up on his offer.

“This is where our first lesson will begin.” Of course inviting me to dinner came with strings attached.

I put my soupspoon down, and looked around the room. Couples quietly chatted over their meals. It was the epitome of civility.

“Here?” I could understand Andre taking me to a club, where people were boiled down to their most primal natures. And I could understand Andre taking me to the middle of nowhere to practice, where I wouldn’t be a threat. But here? It was a bit underwhelming.

“Yes. First I want you to practice reading people by their pheromones.” His eyes briefly scanned the room before landing on a young couple. “Start with them, and tell me what their scents tell you.”

“Uh … you want me to smell them?” I asked. “Should I get up and go over to them?”

“See first if you can smell anything from here.”

Andre had officially lost it. Not only was the room filled with the overpowering smell of food, people had perfume and cologne on.

The thought triggered a memory. When I met up with Andre a few hours earlier, I could smell his scent underneath the cologne. Maybe it would work after all.

Slowly I breathed in the smells of the restaurant. I began tracing the much more overpowering smells back to their origins, getting the hang of it. I quickly sorted out the overpowering smells of food and perfume, and focused on the fainter but more primal smells. It was like distinguishing colors.

I followed the different scents back to their various owners until I caught the young woman’s. She was smiling, but a familiar cloying scent betrayed her.

I turned to Andre. “She’s scared.”

Andre only smiled. “Now the man.”

It took me a few minutes to sort out which smell led back to him. When I did, I couldn’t place the scent. I looked at Andre, but he gave me nothing, so I guessed. “Guilt?”

“Can you confirm it?”

“How could I possibly
—
” And then I smelled it. It was the smell of another woman, and it was all over his skin. “Ugh, gross! I think I’m going to be sick.” The man was cheating on his girlfriend, and he had the audacity to not even take a shower before meeting up with her.

Andre raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, it’s definitely guilt.”

“Good. You did fantastic. One of the benefits and frustrations of being a vampire is being able to sort out smells. It’s a great tool for reading people, and eventually it will be how you figure out who is willing to let you take their blood.”

“Ew.” I hugged myself, no longer hungry.

He ignored my response
—
as usual. “Smell can also be a huge distraction, both because when you’re in a crowded setting, it’s hard to distinguish separate smells, and because there are those who purposefully manipulate vampires with smell. Considering you were almost killed the other day because you didn’t sense your attacker, it is especially vital for you to know the boundaries of your abilities.”

My hackles rose at his last comment. “You expected me to
sense
my attacker in that sexpot club of yours? While my dead mother was bespelling the clubbers?” My voice rose at the end of the sentence, and a few of the nearby couples glanced over at us.

Andre’s eyes thinned. “Of course not. You are ignorant when it comes to our world. But that is my point
—
”

“If you’re going to call me ignorant, then I’m leaving.”

“Until you learn, Gabrielle, you
are
ignorant.”

I stood up and threw down my napkin. “I think I’m done for the evening.”

Andre stood up as well, and his height was staggering and oppressive. “We’re not finished yet.”

“Oh yes we are.” I pushed past him and walked out of the restaurant.

He followed behind me. “Gabrielle.” He spoke calmly, yet there was a distinct sense of authority to his voice. “This is not optional, and you cannot
—
and will not
—
disobey me.”

His statement pissed me off. I turned and yelled at him. “This is not the 1300s, I am not your slave, and you cannot command me
—
you giant misogynist!”

His hands clenched. “I am your king!” His voice boomed.

I turned away from him
—
big mistake.

He whipped me back to face him. Only his eyes were no longer filled with anger. Desire flashed in them a second before our lips met.

The energy that always thrummed when he was near became a living, breathing thing. It danced from my skin to his and back again.

My surprise faded into passion, and I responded to his kiss. I heard him groan, and the kiss deepened. He gathered me up and held me like a drowning man holding onto a life raft. I wrapped my arms around his neck, consumed by the kiss as our energy circuited through us.

Eventually
—
reluctantly
—
we split apart.

“Gabrielle …” he said, his voice low and his eyes deep. “I think
—
”

Laughter interrupted his words. The hair along my flesh rose. He was here, the man in the suit.

“Oh God …” I backed away from Andre.

“Gabrielle, what’s wrong?” Concern had crept into his voice.

“You mean you didn’t hear it?”

“Hear what?” He was looking at me curiously.

“Laughter.”

Then I saw him, beyond Andre’s shoulder. He was hardly more than a darker shadow amongst the shadows. I put a hand to my mouth.

Andre turned quickly and followed my gaze, scanning the area. But even though the man in the suit made no effort to hide, Andre couldn’t see him. I already knew that no humans could see him, but I had desperately hoped that supernaturals could.

“Let’s get you home.” He led me back to his car.

We buckled up and pulled out of the parking lot. I glanced behind me and watched the man in the suit walk out of the shadows and stand underneath the artificial light of a nearby lamppost.

You can’t ever hide.
His voice tickled the flesh around my ear and I flinched.

Andre looked over. A crease had formed between his brows. “What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” I knew what he meant, but I was not going to give up information easily.

“You’re frightened. I can smell it all over you.”

I should’ve known; we’d just been going over smells. “I thought I saw someone.”

“Who?”

I wasn’t sure how to respond. The man in the suit had always been my little secret. While I knew I wasn’t crazy, I also knew that sane people just didn’t see apparitions.

I decided to go for honesty. “I don’t know.”

He raised an eyebrow and looked over at me. “You mean to tell me that you saw someone you don’t know, and you are scared of them?”

“It’s more complicated than that.”

“I bet. Because right now I don’t believe you.”

I leaned my forehead on my hand. He was reaffirming what I already knew; no one would believe me.

Andre pulled the car over. Nothing but rolling hills and farmland surrounded us. The car idled as he faced me. “You know you can trust me, right? I will never vilify you, and I will never think you’re crazy. Whatever has you worked up is not a burden you have to carry on your own.” His eyes had gone soft again, and he reached over to comfort me.

His words and gaze made my stomach flutter in a way that all his beauty couldn’t. What I felt wasn’t lust … it was something far scarier. Something I wasn’t ready to admit to.

Gently I moved his hand away. “You can’t understand. But more than that, this is not your problem, and you cannot protect me from my own troubles.”

***

The next few days passed uneventfully. Which, for the moment, was a really good thing. I used the time to catch up on my reading assignments. Unfortunately, this also gave me time to think over my close brush with death, my inheritance, and
—
most distracting
—
my kiss with Andre.

Friday morning, Leanne got ready next to me, leaning in front of her mirror and putting on mascara.

“So,” she said, “there’s supposed to be a college party tonight off campus. You up for going with me and Oliver? It’s a themed party.”

I fidgeted; I still hadn’t told her about my plans with Caleb. “Actually,” I said with faked nonchalance, “I have a date tonight.”

“No way!” she exclaimed, turning to look at me. “Why didn’t you say anything? Wait
—
who are you going on a date with?”

“Caleb Jennings,” I said, uncomfortable. “I met him in one of my classes.” I hadn’t mentioned it before because Caleb had been absent for most of the week. To be honest, I wasn’t even sure we were still going out tonight until he sent me a series of texts confirming our date was still on.

“Oh, he’s a hottie for sure,” she said. “It looks like life’s going pretty well for you right now, trapped between two delicious men, a large inheritance, and that beautiful face of yours.” I heard a note of jealousy in her voice, though I could tell she was trying hard to smother it and be a good friend.

I shifted uncomfortably and gave Leanne a tight smile. These moments always made me feel guilty, like I was somehow not appreciating the hand I’d been dealt. But then the guilt always led to sadness. What was money without family? And what were beauty and men without love? Everything Leanne had mentioned was just a means to an end: happiness. And happiness had eluded me.

Leanne hadn’t noticed my inner turmoil, yet she began to look concerned. “But you should know, he’s a shapeshifter.”

“Sorry
—
who?” I asked, still preoccupied with my own thoughts.

“Caleb.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

She shrugged, but I could tell she was holding back. “Not necessarily.”

I came over to her and touched her on the shoulder. “Seriously Leanne, you should tell me if there’s something I should know about Caleb.”

She put down her makeup and sat on her bed. “Caleb as a person is fine. But shapeshifters are a scary type of supernatural.” She still hadn’t scared me off. After all, technically I was a scary supernatural.

She continued. “Lycanthropes and other were-animals can change into a single form, and their changes are dictated by the lunar cycle. Shapeshifters, however, can shift into various forms on whim. And the type of shapeshifter Caleb is, well, it’s really rare. He can morph into any animal or person he wants.”

I still didn’t understand.

She took in my expression and elaborated. “He could hypothetically be in this room, right now. Literally a fly on the wall.”

Now
that
was a troubling piece of information to hear.

Leanne continued. “With that kind of ability he’s probably being recruited by the Politia.”

“What’s the Politia?”

“You probably don’t know much about our government, The House of Keys, but when it was formed, a branch was created called the Politia, which focused on policing the improper use of supernatural power. This agency is still around, but it is extremely secretive. The Politia hires only the most talented supernaturals. I know that Caleb’s father works for them, and I think that this agency is recruiting Caleb as well. Shapeshifters are incredibly useful to this police force since they can basically become anything or anyone.”

“Why is this something I should be worried about?” I asked.

I could see she was trying to word her answer carefully. “The agency has been known to hunt things they believe are evil. And while there’s been a truce for centuries, vampires are decidedly considered evil.”

I looked at her skeptically. “So you think Caleb is going to off me tonight?” Then it dawned on me. “You think I’ve already been attacked by a shapeshifter
—
by Caleb.”

“Of course not,” she said. “The House of Keys has a truce with vampires. They do not kill rogue vampires so long as Andre deals with them.” I swallowed. “And anyway, Caleb’s not experienced enough to officially work for them. I was just thinking that his family probably wouldn’t approve of the date.”

“Well, thanks for the heads up.”

So Caleb was a shapeshifter? I could already tell tonight was going to be fun.

***

I didn’t see Caleb in my history class, which wasn’t surprising considering all of his previous absences.

When I arrived in my anthropology class, Oliver was waiting for me, holding
The Beat
, the supernatural community’s leading tabloid. He dropped the magazine on my desk. “You’re getting cozy with your mentor and you didn’t bother to tell me first?”

My eyebrows shot up. Splashed across the cover were pictures of Andre and me. One was from Mystique, clearly taken before I was attacked. Andre’s expression was soft in the photo as he gazed down at me, and I was looking up at him, a secret smile on my face. Another was a grainy shot of the two of us embracing outside the French restaurant, and another the awful shot of Andre carrying me over his shoulder. The caption read:

Love at Last?

Andre’s heating it up with Gabrielle Fiori,

the daughter of the deceased Count of Santo.

But is she the one, or will she get burned?

“Oh my
—
”

“You can say that again. At least your butt looks good.”

“Oliver!” I swatted him with the magazine. He dodged me and slid into the desk behind me.

“But seriously G,” he said, leaning over, “get used to this. The media loves him.”

From where she sat three rows ahead of us, Doris turned around and scowled at us.

“Oh, go hump a tree Doris.” Oliver rolled his eyes and began flipping through the magazine. Doris breathed in sharply at the insult before turning back around.