Shifting Fate (11 page)

“
There are seven locations
we could check, but these are our best shot.” He pointed at three
blocks of text on a note pad, his writing clean and sharp, not at
all like Morgan’s. “Does anything stand out to you?” he
asked.

I shook my head. “I’ve only been through
Stanton. The Jamison plant, didn’t that burn last year in some kind
of gas leak accident?”

“
Explosion,” he said, his
level tone making me wonder if there was more I didn’t know,
something the news hadn’t reported. “But there were a few buildings
left standing.”

“
Okay.” I sat up. “Let me
just grab my shoes.”

He raised a brow at me. “You don’t think this
should wait until morning?”

I glanced at the window, but could see
nothing except our own reflection against the dark of night.
“Right. I guess daylight’s probably better.” I bit my lip,
remembering Emily and Aern’s warnings about getting rest. I didn’t
think I could sleep at all, but they were right. Plus, I didn’t
exactly want to snoop around abandoned warehouses at night with
Morgan’s men gunning for me.

“
Bri,” Logan said from
beside me, and I turned, lip still tucked beneath my
tooth.

His gaze lingered on my face and I asked,
“What?”

He smiled, more to himself than for me I
thought, and said, “Can I help you look for something?”

My attention fell to the documents on the
table. “I suppose,” I replied, surprised at the disappointment in
my voice, “we’re looking for anything else my mother’s hidden.”

Logan squeezed my arm. “It was hidden from
the others, Brianna. Not you.”

The gesture was so casual it sent a momentary
shock through me. I swallowed hard. I knew his words were
true—she’d meant to keep us safe, Emily and I—but it still stung.
We’d been lied to for so long.

“
It’s no different,” I said,
not believing I was admitting it out loud, “than what I’ve done to
Emily.”

Logan stared at me for a long moment. “For
the right reasons,” he said before finally picking up a stack of
papers to search for other clues. “It will all turn out, Brianna.
You’ll see.”

I huffed out a laugh. They all had faith in
me. I was their savior, their prophesied hero come to light. And I
was digging through paperwork for a sign. Me, the Dragon
Slayer.

I woke the next morning with my face
plastered to the arm of Logan’s couch. He sat reading through
Morgan’s journal, my feet lying haphazardly across his lap.

I jerked to sitting, pulling them under me as
a hand went to my face, but Logan didn’t flinch. “What time is it?”
I asked, rubbing a cheek and sorting my hair into place.

“
Early,” he said, masking a
crooked smile at my attempt at composure. “You have time for more
sleep if you want.”

He’d been right; I slept like the dead. But
at least I was sleeping. I shook my head as I peered at the pages
he had open.

He indicated the book with a nod. “This is
really disturbing.”

“
You have no idea,” I
muttered, remembering the things Emily took out of the box she’d
been searching. My voice was hoarse from disuse and my muscles
ached to be stretched.

Sensing my mood, Logan laid the journal on
the table. “How about you get dressed and I make breakfast,” he
glanced at his watch, “and we can be on the road before
sunrise.”

“
Yes,” I managed.
“Perfect.”

After a much needed hair brushing, and a
large helping of freshly scrambled eggs, we were loaded into the
black sedan and headed for the industrial parks in old downtown.
Logan must have made arrangements with his team, because there were
occasional beeps and blips on his various devices as we drove.

The sun came up to mostly empty streets
because it was a Saturday in late October, in an area where no one
really lived anymore. Vacant houses became abandoned apartment
buildings, windows busted, shattered glass lining weedy sidewalks.
Graffiti marked more and more brick walls, and chain link fencing
sagged against broken supports and piled up trash.

A weight settled in the pit
of my stomach, silently protesting the idea of my mother here,
alone and
trapped
,
causing my hand to tighten on the door grip.

“
I’ve been wondering about
something,” Logan said, his voice startling me back to the pristine
interior of the car, the quiet hum of the engine as he idled at a
stop sign.

“
What’s that?” I
asked.

His eyes were ahead, scanning the area before
driving through the intersection. “The bond,” he said, “between
Aern and Emily. Is that something unique to them?” He turned right
without signaling, barely glancing at me as he did so. “Or do all
of your kind have the ability to create a union?”

My kind
. The words bothered me more than they should, I knew, but I
couldn’t say why.

He waited.

“
No,” I said finally,
shaking off that niggling feeling. “I don’t think … well, none of
us should be able to.” I stopped, baffled by the idea that I had no
clue about my kind. I’d only truly known my mother and Emily. It
wasn’t like we’d had an honest history lesson on ourselves. Why was
Logan asking? Because of me? Because of the prophecy? I clarified,
“It’s just Emily as far as I know. But I can’t be sure.”

He nodded.

We were silent for several minutes before he
asked a new question. “Are you all prophets, aside from Emily?”

“
I don’t know,” I answered.
“My mother for certain, possibly hers. It might be something that’s
passed directly, but Emily … well, we’re twins, so there’s no
accounting for what could have happened.”

“
What about a written
history?” he asked. “Some way for you to find the
others?”

I twisted the hem of my shirt between my
fingers. “I don’t know if there are others, Logan.”

He did look at me then. “Because you were
hidden?”

I shrugged. “I don’t think she meant to die
so soon. I think she had every intention of telling us more.” The
words hurt, because I believed them with all of my heart. And
because if it was true, then there were no guarantees my power
would save us.

Logan pulled the car to the curb in front of
a massive metal-sided building.

“
She had a choice,
Brianna.”

“
Sometimes,” I said, “you
have to choose between two bad things.”

He stared at me, only able to guess at the
horrors my visions had shown me, and said, “Sometimes, you have to
make your own options.”

Despite the fact that we were outside the
warehouse that had possibly housed my captive mother, that my
visions were warning me of fire and death, that we were nearly
alone in our quest and that I was possibly the world’s last
remaining prophet, I found myself smiling at his resolve.

The warehouses were far from empty. They were
littered with containers and boxes, and occasionally a dark furry
mass skittered across the slicked concrete floors. What was
noticeably absent was any sign of people, human or otherwise, among
the cardboard and empty pallets dispersed throughout the buildings.
No food wrappers or soda cans, no chairs posted near the entrances,
not even a homeless person using the rooms for shelter. Nothing.
Whatever Morgan was planning for these properties, he’d not gotten
started before the Division had imprisoned him.

We drove from location to location, crossing
each possibility off the list through most of the morning. It
wasn’t until the fourth warehouse that things changed.

“
Wait,” Logan said as we
crossed in front of a wide roll-up door. He pulled one of the
devices from his pocket and sent a message to his team.

“
What is it?” I whispered
beside him.

“
There,” he said, pointing
to the line of the roof over head, “see that conduit? That is new.
Someone’s made upgrades to this building, and I’m guessing it’s
security.”

“
Like cameras?” I
asked.

The device in his hand beeped and Logan read
the screen. “Yes,” he tipped it toward me, “but apparently the
feeds aren’t running outside the property.”

“
You mean they were watching
from the inside?”

A prickle crawled over my skin when he
nodded. “Looks like everything is shut down now, though,” he
said.

His assurance didn’t help,
because if the men who’d watched it were gone, then we were likely
on the right track. But I followed as he disabled the locks and led
me through the entrance. Because I couldn’t
not
find the place that held my
mother.

High shuttered windows let in narrow streams
of light to streak across the empty, sealed-concrete floor. There
was no scent of must or stale air, no sign of those dark, furry
masses. A set of offices lined the wall close to the doors, and the
other wall was boarded over what would have been the roll-up doors
that allowed trucks to access whatever cargo it had held. Painted
beams and columns filled the otherwise empty space, which only
helped to emphasize the fact that it was too clean.

I started to reach for Logan’s hand, but
stopped when I saw how it hovered over the holster he’d strapped to
his leg. His eyes scanned the space before he tilted his head
toward a set of doors on the far wall. “There. This property has
seven buildings, but only four are climate controlled.”

“
You don’t think he’d let
her freeze?” I asked skeptically as we walked across the
space.

He glanced over at me. “No. I don’t think he
would deign to make himself uncomfortable.”

The doors led to a graveled pathway between
three of the buildings, one exposed brick and one covered in gray
metal siding that appeared to have been an add-on to the furthest
building, which was painted block. Logan chose the gray metal,
which looked to be the newest of the three, and pried the keypad
cover off to gain access to the wiring that secured the door.

“
I wonder why my mother
didn’t teach me that,” I whispered.

He grinned, not taking his eyes off his work,
and said, “Maybe she knew you’d find me.” We both fell silent as
his words, meant purely as lighthearted banter, settled between us.
Because it might have been true.

Logan cleared his throat. “Stay close.” His
shoulders shifted as he twisted the lock free and pushed the door
open.

The building was set up as a
workshop, with giant drill presses, welders, and equipment I
couldn’t imagine the purpose of. A thin band of corrugated
fiberglass lined the walls just below the rafters, shedding ample
light into the space. Chain hoists and pulleys hung from thick
metal cross beams, their hooks old and rusted. The door closed
behind us with a solid
thunk
, no echo.

“
I don’t think this is the
place,” I whispered.

Logan shook his head. “Not likely.” He
pointed toward the back of the space. “There’s a door there, it’ll
probably lead us to the other building.”

I followed him through, anxiously scanning
for something that looked familiar. When we reached the back door,
I realized a lock-picking skill would have been completely
useless—it was welded shut.

“
Looks like we found it,” I
said.

“
Maybe,” Logan answered,
“but it’s definitely something he didn’t want us to
see.”

Logan stepped back, surveying the wall and
ceiling before following a cross beam with his eyes. He started
walking, jerking his head for me to follow. Before I knew it, we
were standing in front of a metal tower of sorts outside the far
end of the gray-sided building.

I stared at the narrow metal strips
crisscrossing the three main beams. “Is this supposed to be a
ladder?”

Logan bit back a grin. “It is today.”

“
It doesn’t even touch the
roof,” I pointed out.

He didn’t spare the gap between the structure
and the rooftop another glance. “It’s close enough.” He put a hand
on my lower back to urge me toward it. “Go ahead, you first.”

“
Because you’re going to
catch me if I fall?” I asked, resting a toe on the first
rung.

He managed to keep a straight face when he
said, “Because I want to be sure it’ll hold the weight.” But when I
glanced up again, I saw the corner of his mouth twitch. “Come on,
Brianna. We’re losing daylight.”

I shook my head at him as I reached for a
higher grip. He followed as soon as I’d given him enough room,
staying as close as possible without interfering with my speed. It
was taller than I realized, and even though I wasn’t afraid of
heights, I knew better than to look down. When I reached the roof
line I stopped, and Logan climbed up behind me, reaching around to
grip the rungs outside my hands.

“
Okay,” he said, his voice
low in my ear, all hint of humor gone, “you’re going to slide a leg
over, and then one hand to grab the ridge cap. Once you’ve got a
good grip, take your other leg over, and finally your hand. Keep
your knees bent, understand? I don’t want you to let go until I’m
across.”

I nodded and he stayed pressed up against me
for a long moment, as if maybe he was reconsidering the idea. “I
can do it,” I said. “Just make sure and get me down safe.”

He smiled, his face inches from mine. “I’ve
got you, Brianna. I promise.”

He moved his left hand out to let me free and
I reached a leg across as instructed. It wasn’t as far as it seemed
apparently, because I was able to slide my grip across the tower
rung and get my fingers over the ridge cap without letting go, but
I still didn’t look down. I bent my knees, grabbed the edge of the
cap with my other hand, and Logan was behind me again in a matter
of seconds.