Read Crest (Ondine Quartet Book 3) Online
Authors: Emma Raveling
Nerves spiked. I also wished the conference had kept its later date. If I passed Original Magic's trial and officially became the Governor-elect, it would be my first big test.
More preparation time would've been useful.
Fujio watched us, worry creasing his brow. None of this was going to be easy.
Doubt bred frustration again. If I'd gotten something on the Shadow in New York, I could've returned to Haverleau and presented skeptics with proof I could end this war.
But I'd gotten nothing and people still didn't believe I was capable of doing the things I pushed for.
You may find out what I know about the Shadow. Or you may find out how to protect your loved ones.
The Shadow knew everything about my life, about every important person. It terrified the hell out of me.
"I want more protection on my friends," I told him.
"Already done."
Startled, I turned to him. "What? When?"
His expression was somber. "Someone is betraying our people. Redavi ondines and gardinels are being killed. The first thing I did was assign more men to cover Aubrey, Chloe, and your friends."
That was the other huge issue facing me at the conference.
We had a traitor on our hands and investigating those you needed to work with wasn't the best recipe for success.
The Lieutenant said the predator among us was more dangerous than him. The thought sent an icy shiver down my spine.
"This traitor," I murmured. "You think it's someone on the Governing Council?"
His fingers tightened on the armrest. "I'm not sure."
The answer surprised me. Tristan usually had a clear instinct for what to do or which direction to take.
He looked out the window at the puffs of clouds sailing beside our jet.
"I just can't imagine anyone on the Council possessing a reason to do it," he said.
"Maybe the reason is beyond anything we can understand."
An elemental choosing to work with Aquidae. What possible motivation could there be?
"Maybe." He paused. "Whoever it is knows my men."
These deaths happened at the hands of Aquidae, but they weren't the result of a battle.
Someone high up enough to know security protocols gave these ondines and selkies up.
It was like discovering your superior officer deliberately worked with the enemy to plot your murder. There was something tremendously disturbing about that.
"I'll find him."
His finger brushed my hand. "I know."
The fleeting touch was meant to be compassionate, a simple acknowledgment of our concerns.
But it immediately peeled something away inside me, stirring a heated longing completely out of proportion with the gesture's lightness.
I hastily said the first thing that came to mind. "I'm sorry the city holds such bad memories."
He took a few moments to answer. "I killed Eric in an alley uptown."
A lock of hair came forward, sweeping against the curve of his cheekbone. I wanted to brush it aside.
"Before we went in to the DuBois building...did you know the Lieutenant was the one who turned your brother?"
I remembered his agitation, the raw energy that pulsed from him in the hours leading up to the strike.
"Yes."
His voice turned cold as if he'd flipped a switch. The same blank look from last night settled into place.
Why was he...
Realization knifed me in the gut.
He was setting boundaries.
Tristan was trying to establish how we'd move forward from here. Asking him personal questions was not on the table.
Hurt cut through me because I knew he was right.
He was the Crown Prince and I would be the next Governor. Establishing a working relationship was the mature, adult thing to do.
Shoving the pain down deep, I kept my voice calm.
"I'm sorry." Polite, distant. "Last night must've been very difficult for you."
He didn't respond.
Julian walked toward us, eyes focused on me. "We need to discuss what happened."
Perfect. He was finally ready to work and I desperately needed something to throw myself into.
"I know. We also need to come up with a new strategy on how to proceed," I said briskly. "Maybe if we find another cell's Lieutenant —"
"What the hell happened up in that control room last night and why did we lose our only lead?"
Tristan tensed at the accusatory tone.
I frowned at the unexpected detour. "What are you talking about? The Lieutenant was insane! He staked himself. There was nothing — "
"You must've done something to trigger that response. I need to make sure that doesn't happen again when I continue the search."
I didn't like his tone and phrasing. "You mean when we continue the search."
"No, I mean me." Julian pointed to himself. "It's clear your mind isn't on this investigation. From this point on, I work alone."
Anger flared. This had nothing to do with last night's operation.
"She did her job," Tristan said quietly. "There's no reason to take her off."
"Am I the only one that realizes what a clusterfuck last night was? I've been working on finding the Shadow for almost three years. Doing things you can't imagine to get close to those animals. Then you," he leaned in, eyes flashing, "show up, Your Highness, and suddenly I'm back to square one. Care to explain that?"
"Cut it out, LeVeq," I snapped. "It wasn't anyone's fault."
"I beg to differ. You're off this."
I stood. "You have no say in the matter."
Taking me off the investigation was useless. I may not be an inducted chevalier, but the Governor had given me authority to pursue this to the end. I was now shifting into a political position that gave me the power and mobility to go after the Shadow with everything I had.
He was First Lieutenant and had my respect. But after everything we'd gone through in Manhattan, I deserved acknowledgment and respect back.
A heavy silence descended.
"And so it begins," Julian cryptically said.
Before I could ask him what the hell that meant, Fujio approached. "We're landing soon."
His cool tone broke the tension in the air and I suddenly grew aware of our audience.
Helene's mouth hung open, her camera filming every word. Renee stared at me, expression surprisingly somber. Catrin lifted her eye mask and Urian looked exceptionally grim.
Resisting the urge to swear, I sat and glared out the window at the landscape below.
Julian was pulling a power play and I'd be damned if I let him get away with it.
By the time we landed at the private Lyondale airfield, everyone was in a crappy mood.
Julian stormed off as soon as he disembarked. Two Royal Gardinels from the Governing House waited beside their SUVs.
Ewan Vellucar approached, brown tufts of hair standing straight up and amber eyes gleaming with affection.
Some of my bad mood dissipated at the sight of him. I actually missed my neurotic gardinel more than I wanted to admit.
"So I brought something," he said casually.
The sweet, decadent smell hit me and I almost tackled him in a hug.
"You are the best!"
I grabbed the paper bag out of his hand and eagerly opened it.
A pitiful morsel of eclair rested on the bottom.
I blinked. "It's bite-sized."
"Sorry." He had enough grace to blush. "Couldn't resist the rest of it on the drive over. I didn't realize how good Rivière eclairs were."
Before I could thank him for the odd welcome home gift, Tristan tersely ordered him to take Fujio, Renee, Catrin, and Urian to the Governing House.
Since Helene was bunking in a spare room at Lumière, she followed Tristan and me to his waiting black BMW.
Lyondale's bland urban environment lacked the vitality of Manhattan. Bare branches, grey sky, and ugly concrete draped Haverleau's weight like a mantle on my shoulders again.
"It's empty," Helene said from behind me.
I twisted around in the front seat. "What?"
"Lyondale." She touched the glass window. "It's so quiet."
Tristan glanced at her in the rearview mirror. "Most cities are spread wider than Manhattan's narrow grid system so it can feel empty when you first see it. Is this your first time away from New York?"
She nodded, camera tracking the passing cityscape.
Tension crept up my spine as familiar surroundings came into view. I kept my mind focused and breathing even just as I practiced in Manhattan.
Over the next twenty minutes we drove through the wreckage of the factory explosion in the north, the beginning of the Trident's winding streets, and the industrial west side.
Nothing happened.
No rush of hatred, tightness of breath, or crushing need to kill.
Only a lingering sadness and acceptance of things that had happened and could not be changed.
Lyondale Hospital's sterile corridor greeted us with the acrid scent of antiseptic.
"How long has your aunt been here?"
Helene hurried beside me and attempted to hold her camera steady at the same time. She was going to trip if she didn't watch it.
"Since December."
Steps echoed through the air.
"Do you ever worry you'll forget her?" She sidestepped a janitor's cleaning bucket. "Forget what she was like when she wasn't here?"
"I don't see how I could."
"You will eventually, though. Everyone does."
Her quiet voice made me wonder if she'd forgotten what her father was like.
Other than a few faint impressions, I didn't remember anything about my dad. Memories of my mother and Ryder also faded by the day.
The thought she may be right made me uncomfortable.
Shelves and cabinets took up most of the space in the Chief of Staff's office. Tristan pushed the right side of a tall bookcase behind the desk and it swung back.
A set of narrow steps led to an underground concrete corridor connecting the main hospital to the elemental wing. Located at the back of the hospital's neighboring building, the wing was an impressive bunker-like medical facility hiding in plain sight.
Corridor ended at another set of stairs that took us directly into the wing's waiting area.
"
Sondaleur
." A warm voice said. "Your Highness."
Dr. Daniel Clavet's warm brown eyes twinkled behind a pair of wire-frame glasses awkwardly sliding down his small nose.
"Good to see you again, Daniel." Tristan shook his hand. "This is Helene, Marquisa Bessette's daughter."
Camera darted, taking in every last detail of the place.
"Yes, Oriel told me about you. Renee's sister."
"Yeah," she mumbled, more absorbed in filming than talking.
He didn't take offense. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you." Kind face turned to me. "Come on, Kendra. I know you've missed her."
Chest tightened. I thought of her every time I breathed the perfume of roses or felt the fresh touch of rain against my skin.
Daniel led us down the hallway to the last room on the right.
When her latent Clairvoyance Virtue surged to life, my mother stayed in this room battling insomnia and powerful nightmarish visions.
The room now held another Irisavie.
Daniel knocked then opened the slightly ajar door.
Everything was as I remembered it. Windowless white walls, yellowed with age. Faded and chipped pieces of furniture. A clinical sterility.
Forlornness hung in the air as if the room knew it had been abandoned.
The only changes were in the two people there.
Marcella looked so frail under crisp white hospital sheets. Sunken eyes and gaunt cheeks marked a retreating body pulling in on itself.
The man who sat beside her, holding her hand in his large brown ones, also looked worse for wear. Gabe, her mate and former Head Chevalier of Haverleau, was now a wasted version of his self.
Dark shadows circling his eyes made him appear bruised. He'd lost so much weight, it hurt to look at him.
"Gabe," Tristan said softly.
Light brown eyes glanced up, then flickered listlessly over Helene and me.
It'd taken too long to interpret a dream repeatedly plaguing me for several months. Gabe blamed me for what happened to Marcella and their unborn child.
Things remained broken between us.
"Come on." Tristan gestured. "Let's go out. You need fresh air."
For a moment, I thought he wouldn't go. But then his eyes fell on me and he stood.
My throat closed up. He didn't want to be in the same room with me.
"Come on, Helene."
Tristan lightly touched her back and she followed them out without question.
I pulled up a chair next to the bed. Fingers tentatively brushed my aunt's cheek. Her skin was cool and soft with only a trace of warmth.
"She doesn't look so good," I managed to say.
Daniel sighed. "I'm sorry, Kendra. I wish I had better news for you. But she's fading and there's not much more we can do."
Bones pushed against my fingertips. "Why is she so thin?"
"We've been feeding her intravenously but her body is refusing to accept it," he said gently. "It's similar to what you see with cancer patients. For a while, the same thing happened with Miriam when I treated her last year..." he stopped abruptly.
Chloe's mother, Miriam Moreaux, had been diagnosed with throat cancer prior to becoming Aquidae. She'd stated in her trial that her body's constant weakness was why she turned.
"You treated her here?"
Daniel nodded. "She was my patient."
A silky raven lock grazed my knuckles. I remembered how her vibrant exuberance struck me the moment I first met her in Pelletier's office.
"Will she make it?"
The question felt heavy on my tongue.
"Most likely not."
His voice was so very compassionate.
I'd expected it, had left for New York prepared to take over as Irisavie heir because of it.
But his answer still felt like a blade slicing through my heart.
Fingers tightened around my aunt's hand and I willed her to take from me. Energy, life, magic, something.
But there was only time's inevitable march toward the end.