Shifting Fate (16 page)

“
No,” she said, shaking her
head. “He’ll be fine, Brianna. He’s just sleeping.”

“
Was it bad?” I asked,
knowing there was only one reason he’d be asleep in the middle of
the morning.

She bit her lip. “It wasn’t good, exactly.
But,” she glanced at Logan, back to me, “he’s healing really fast,
Bri.”

I didn’t say anything. That was how it
worked, wasn’t it. Just like Morgan, the powers he’d received from
our mother. She’d only made the connections, they’d had to be used,
strengthened. The last time he’d shown up to attack, he’d turned
Division men without as much as a glance.

But it didn’t matter anymore. Because we knew
what Emily could do. She had the power to break those bonds. She
could shut down their gifts.

All I had to do was figure out how. To find a
way, let her use it.

“
And what happened at
Southmont?” I asked. “Who else was hurt?”

“
There was a lot of damage
to the lower levels,” Logan said. “The first blast was dulled by
the reinforced walls they installed a year ago. Fortunately, it
served as a warning and got most of us moving before the next run
of them.”

Logan had apparently been protected by one of
those walls, and had returned to his room in time for the second
blast, the one that had thrown me into a wall, to find six of
Morgan’s men waiting for him. He’d been lucky to get out before
that wing collapsed.

“
And the fire,” Emily
added.

“
Yes,” Logan said, his gaze
sliding away briefly. “The final detonation ignited the estate. But
most of the Division men escaped with their lives.”

“
Wesley?” I
asked.

“
He’s fine,” Emily promised.
“He’d tried to stop Morgan, but he’s recovering well from the
fight. Eric and Seth got both he and Brendan out in
time.”

Brendan. They’d not repeated Morgan’s story,
not mentioned that he was the person responsible for his escape,
but I could tell by the way Logan’s fist tightened against his leg
that they knew.

Emily stood, handing me the folded paper of
our mother’s letter, and said, “Logan saved it. And there’s
something else, Brianna.” I glanced up at her. “The other prophet,
the one of the Seven Lines, she was a plant.”

A shadow
.

I stared at her, the gravity of her words
sinking in, and knew that she, that Aern and Logan, understood as
well as I did what it meant. There were no prophets within the
Seven Lines. She’d been a shade, a shadow. One of us.

And they’d been hiding shadows amongst the
Seven for as long as the prophecy existed.

When I came out of the shower, Logan was
still there, watching my door. While Emily was in the room, he’d
splashed his face, changed his shirt, but he hadn’t moved in the
half hour since she’d gone.

“
Logan,” I said, crossing to
sit on the small sofa beside him, “you need rest. You need a
shower.”

He reached for my hand, turning it so that
his finger rested over the base of my tattoo, just below the line
of damage left by the ties, and said. “No.”

I tilted my head to see his face, his dark
amber eyes, and his square jaw. “No?”

His gaze met mine, unflinching, and he said,
“I’m not leaving you, Brianna. Not again.”

My heart clenched as the moment changed. They
weren’t just words, they were a confession, a promise. And not from
my protector. From Logan.

His hand slid to my waist,
pulling me onto his lap, and his words returned to my mind full
force.
Is it now?
I
hadn’t recognized it, distracted as I was, but the scene fell into
place. This was
my
Logan, this was the vision. His thumb skimmed over the skin of
my waist, but when it passed near my scar, it didn’t bring that
unease it had before. This time, the response was purely physical.
I shivered, whispering his name.

He stared into my eyes, and
I
wanted
him to
kiss me.

Is it now?
He had asked so many times, my gaze fell to his
lips, waiting. I had his answer, but he didn’t ask. When he finally
decided, wanted it the way that I wanted it, he simply took my
mouth with his, pressing me against him as my heart raced. And it
wasn’t what I’d seen, wasn’t what I’d expected. Every sensation I
was missing in the vision was magnified in the soft warmth of his
lips, the way his hands felt against the bare skin of my waist.
This was not the kiss that had been repeated since I was a girl.
That vision could not encompass the fluttering ache in my chest,
his scent, the very taste of him as his lips moved softly over
mine.

Slowly, I drew away, staring into his eyes,
and Logan wiped a tear from my cheek with the pad of his thumb. I
understood something then, something that I’d not allowed myself
much time to focus on, because the visions only showed me pivotal
moments. This vision, this kiss, was a moment that would decide me
forever.

I was
his
.

I slid a hand to his chest,
just to touch him, and felt a vague pang of disappointment that
we’d not created a physical bond, not in the way that Emily and
Aern had. I wondered if Logan felt that way, too, as I remembered
his words, the questions he’d had about their connection. I leaned
forward, brushing my lips to his once more, and the words aligned
in my mind.
The heir to the dragon’s name
will rule with their union
.

“
Aern,” I breathed, and
Logan’s eyes snapped open at the sound of another man’s name
between us.

The confusion on his face was so adorable,
the utter relief at finally having the key such a reprieve, that I
barked out a laugh.

Clearly Logan didn’t think it was funny.

“
Aern,” I said. “It’s the
bond, Logan. That’s the reason I can’t find the connection in
Emily. Because it’s not there.” I leaned back, shaking my head.
“It’s there, but … just not where I was looking for it. It’s in her
bond, her link with Aern.”

Logan looked torn, unsure what to make of
this abrupt change in direction, how to deal with it.

“
That’s why we don’t have
it,” I whispered, fingers curling into his shirt, “because I’m
Emily’s opposite, Logan. I can repair the connections, she destroys
them.”

He straightened, keeping me settled on his
lap, and said, “You’ve got it.”

“
Yes,” I said, leaning
forward to kiss him again. “Yes, Logan. I think that’s
it.”

I jumped to my feet. “Come on, let’s go find
Emily.” He stood, hand still in mine, starting for the door.
“Wait,” I said, jerking him to a stop.

“
What is it?” he
asked.

I glanced down at my bare feet in the carpet.
“Shoes first. I’m not going anywhere without shoes.”

Chapter Eighteen

Threads

We found Emily with Aern in their room.
They’d kept the suites Aern had used before he’d left Council, a
modest set of rooms done up in earth tones with a window facing the
south lawn. Aern had just woken, and he stood behind Emily, hands
on the back of her chair, not a sign of injury visible
anywhere.

“
So, what,” she asked, “I’m
just supposed to find Morgan and zap his power away?”

“
I don’t know,” I answered
truthfully. “I only know what will happen if you don’t.”

Aern leaned forward. “And how exactly do we
know if it’s successful?”

“
I hadn’t gotten that far,”
I said. “I guess we’ll have to try it on one of your men.” I shook
my head. “It’s the only thing I’ve got, Aern, and it
feels
right.”

Emily shrugged a shoulder. “Okay, then I
guess we should get started.” She held her hands out to me, palms
up.

“
I don’t think that will
work,” I explained. “I think I need you to touch Aern.” Her hands
drew back; she glanced at the table, then me. “I’m not going to do
anything to the bond, Emily. I just need to see it, to understand
how our connections work, and I think it will be easier if you’re
in contact with him.”

Aern pulled out the chair beside her, sitting
across from me at the table, and took Emily’s hand. She slid her
free hand over to mine. “This is very séance-y.”

“
Well,” I said, “if this
works, the whole thing’s about to get a lot freakier than this.” I
closed my eyes, taking a long, deep breath as I searched out the
connections that were so different than the ones I’d found in the
others. I’d felt them in Emily before, but I’d believed them to be
unique ties to Aern, nothing more than her bond, the prophesied
union. But I felt that push, and I knew they were more. They were a
representation of our power. It wasn’t some mystical force that
tied Emily to Aern. It was that she’d decided, that she’d chosen to
link herself with him, and he’d accepted it. It was like the pulse,
but stronger, more solid. Unbroken.

It was her power. And if I could free it,
she’d be able to tear a man down just as easily.

Aern cleared his throat. “Should I feel
that?”

Emily’s hand twitched, but she didn’t pull
away. “What?”

My eyes stayed closed, testing the strands,
comparing the threads to my own.

“
That,” Aern
said.

“
I don’t feel anything,”
Emily countered. “Brianna, why don’t I feel anything?”

“
Because you,” I said
evenly, “aren’t of the Seven.” I opened my eyes. “And you’re not
simply human. You’re a shade.”

Her gaze flicked to Aern, and I could tell
she was checking the bond.

“
I didn’t do anything,” I
told her. “I couldn’t if I wanted to.”

Her eyes narrowed on me. “And why would you
want to?”

I shook my head. “I don’t, Emily. I’m just
saying.” I wet my lips, glancing at Logan instead of remembering
the vision, remembering Aern and the fire. “Your bond protects him,
I think. Makes it so another shade couldn’t reach his power unless
you allowed it.”

“
Another shade?” Aern asked.
“Brianna—”

I held up a hand. “In theory, I mean. All of
this is a guess. I’m sorry, it’s not like I have a manual or
anything. This is all new to me.”

Logan placed a hand on my shoulder, prepared
to say something, but my body convulsed as a vision slammed into
me.

Morgan, standing in front of a group of men,
hand outstretched as he turned them with his sway. The dark-haired
man, the one that looked like a model out of GQ, stood beside him,
his mouth twisted at the corner in a knowing smirk. I had the
strangest feeling he knew I could see him.

“
No,” Emily screamed, “this
isn’t like her. She doesn’t just fall down and convulse, Aern.
You’ve seen her. We have to wake her up. Now.”

I’d apparently missed a line or two of their
argument. I tried to move my hand, to let her know I was okay, but
it wouldn’t cooperate, I couldn’t quite break free.

“
Brianna,” Logan said from
my other side. “Brianna, you need to come back to us. Can you feel
my hand?”

I did then, feel his touch in my hand, but I
couldn’t make out what had happened. “I’m all right,” I mumbled. “I
just need to sleep.”

“
Pick her up,” Aern said.
“We need to take her some place safe until—”

“
No,” I said, opening my
eyes as Logan lifted me from the floor. “No, I’m all
right.”

Emily looked sick, her hands trembling as she
reached up to brush the hair away from my face. “It’s close,” she
said.

I nodded. “And Morgan. He’s turning more
men.”

Aern cursed.

Logan stared down at me. “How long do we
have?”

“
I don’t know,” I answered.
“This isn’t … It’s shifting, every single time I make a decision,
it’s wrong.”

“
Not you,” Aern said.
“Morgan.”

I closed my eyes for a long moment, seeing
the face of my sister, broken and still, the fire coursing through
the city, the lifeless bodies vanished in ash. “Yes. Morgan.”

“
Then we’ll stop him,” Emily
said. “Whatever it takes, we’ll stop him.”

I had worked with Emily as long as I could,
but when exhaustion took over I’d fallen asleep on the couch, the
muted conversation of the others and their tactics for securing the
property seeping into my consciousness as I faded in and out.
Morgan had walked right over them the last time, turning their
guards with a look, and he was stronger now.

I woke on the soft white sheets of a bed in
the suite Emily had said was mine, Logan sitting on a chair in
front of me. “You’re tired,” I murmured, head buried in a too-soft
pillow.

One side of his mouth came up in a smile and
I reached over, wiggling my fingers for his hand. He took it and I
pulled, sliding over to give him room beside me. “This is
completely against Council policy,” he said in a low voice as he
slipped his arms around me.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Who did you have
this problem with before?”

He breathed a short laugh, squeezing me
closer, and I tucked my head under his chin.

“
What time is it?” I
asked.

“
Late. I’m afraid you’ve
slept all the way to bedtime, Brianna.”

I liked the way my name sounded in his quiet
voice. I hugged him closer. “Good. I’m not ready to get up
yet.”

A puff of air brushed the top of my head, and
I smiled, pressing my cheek against his chest.

When I woke again, it was morning. Logan was
lying on his back, hands laced behind his head, staring at the
ceiling. My face had been buried into his side, leg sprawled over
his, one arm trapped beneath me while the other rested on his
chest. I had to push up to look at him.