Shifting Fate (2 page)

“
It’s fine,” I said again,
hating the look that passed between them. “You couldn’t have known.
No one could have known.”

Emily’s gaze returned to mine, and I implored
her to side with me, to not let him take the blame for one more
thing that had gone wrong. She sighed.

“
I suppose not,” she
murmured, knowing that Aern would understand the implication. I was
the prophet, after all.

He stepped forward, regret obvious in his
features, but he didn’t say he was sorry. Not after I’d threatened
him for it the weeks before. “It is our job to know,” Aern said.
“And we should have seen this coming.”

Brendan was suddenly beside us, the skin of
his cheek and neck red and bruising. “I’ll stand watch over
Brianna.”

I swallowed hard, unable to look at any of
them.

“
Don’t be ridiculous,” Aern
said. “She’ll need a fulltime guard. You have too many
responsibilities.”

Brendan stared at him, but he didn’t have
much room to argue. He was still running the men of the Division,
still managing a dozen houses and multiple businesses. Things would
fall back together, all under Aern’s command, but only after this
threat was handled.

I glanced down at my hands, puffy and raw,
and saw the blood smeared on my torn shirt. “It’s my fault. I
should have seen this.” My eyes met Aern’s. “I didn’t make Morgan
remove the sway from everyone. He only did it to the men that were
there.”

Aern winced at the reminder of that night,
the night he had stabbed me, and I wanted to grab him and shake
him. He’d done everything he could to subvert Morgan’s order, and
though he couldn’t have stopped the action, he had managed to not
hit anything important. “It’s not your fault,” I said again. “None
of it was your fault.”

He reached up to squeeze my arm. “It won’t
happen again, Brianna. I swear to you, you will be safe.”

Chapter Two

Watched

Eventually, Emily escorted me to a new set of
rooms where I took a long, too-hot shower. As I stood in front of
the mirror combing my hair, I could hear their muted voices from
the next room.

“
I tried to keep from
hurting him,” Brendan was explaining, “but he wouldn’t stop. And
Brianna,” he paused, and I could imagine him shaking his head,
glancing toward the window, “I couldn’t let her fall.”

They might have been able to force Morgan to
turn him, to release his sway and let the man regain his own will,
but no one was sure he would come out of this. Healing could only
do so much, and Morgan wasn’t willing to do anything from the
position he was currently in.

I stayed there for a long while, staring at
the dark marble countertop, the tiles inlaid with gold, until all
of the voices quieted. When I finally came out, Brendan was waiting
for me in the bedroom.

“
I’m sorry about this,” he
said, indicating the windowless walls around us. “As soon as the
security updates are finished, we’ll be moving you to Council.” I
could see the idea bothered him more than it should, and the rest
of his explanation seemed to be more to convince himself than me.
“It’s the best place for you. To keep you safe.”

I nodded.

“
I had them bring up some
lunch. It’s in the sitting room.”

My stomach turned. “Thanks. I’m not really
hungry.”

He didn’t shift; he hadn’t taken his eyes off
me at all. “If you’d like to sleep for a—”

“
No,” I interrupted. “No,
I’m not tired.” I was exhausted—my muscles ached, and my hands
still shook—but I didn’t want to be alone.

He held out a hand. “Sit with me then?”

I walked past him toward the sitting room,
and his hand fell to the small of my back. I could have sat in the
reading chair, but I didn’t. Instead, I took the center of a small
sofa where Brendan could settle beside me. His arm came around me,
and I curled my legs up, letting him tuck my back against his
side.

I shouldn’t have. I knew that. But Brendan
cared about me, and it felt good to have someone there.

I stared at the wall across from us, a
beautiful Wyeth painting centered over a narrow table. It was
probably an original. And yet, I couldn’t bring myself to
appreciate it. They had been attacking Council ever since Morgan
was taken. We had thought it was in retaliation. We had thought
they meant to rescue Morgan. But we were wrong ... because they
were after me.

I closed my eyes, trying to force a vision to
come. It didn’t work that way, but I wanted so badly to finally
have this over with, to save my sister and myself. To save
everyone. I just needed a clue. One small indicator of how, of what
I was searching for in Emily, of what to do.

Brendan’s hand slid down my arm, and I became
suddenly aware I’d sunk into him. My elbow rested on his leg, my
back against his chest. His cheek brushed my hair, and I went
rigid.

“
Brianna,” he started, and I
was on my feet, nowhere to go but the table across from
us.

I could almost feel his
presence behind me. I picked up a vase, examining the etched glass,
and internally cringed.
Nice, Brianna, run
over to look at glass.

“
Brianna,” he said again,
and the hurt in his tone was clear. I had to say something.
Do
something.

I turned to face him. “I’m sorry.” He was too
close. I sat the vase back on the table, stepped one leg behind me.
Two would have been too much. Two would have injured him more. I
looked into his eyes, so dark they were nearly black, and said, “I
like you, Brendan. I do.” Before I could finish, before I could
add, “but …” his phone rang.

He answered it. In the middle of our
conversation.

After a brief exchange, he slid the cell
phone back into his pocket. His gaze found me. “I’m sorry, Brianna,
but I have to take care of something.” He glanced at his watch. “I
hate to leave you alone, but Aern will be here shortly. There are
two men at the door, and the alarms are always on.” He reached up
to touch my shoulder. “We will talk soon.”

And then he smiled, clearly only taking the
“I like you” from our conversation, before walking out the
door.

I stared at it for several minutes, open as
it was, before finally falling onto the couch and throwing an arm
over my eyes.

I had bigger problems, I knew, so I started
populating a list in my head for when Aern arrived. I would do
everything I could to resolve our issue. I had a lot of work to do
before I could figure out where to start.

“
Brianna,” Aern said from
somewhere beyond my feet.

I dropped the arm from my eyes, surprised to
see him standing near the end of the couch. His face was tight,
which I assumed was displeasure at Brendan leaving me alone.

I opened my mouth to speak, but my gaze fell
on the other man in the room.

“
This is Logan,” Aern
explained. “He’s going to be staying with you until …” Somewhere in
the back of my mind, Aern’s words were slowly filtering through,
but I couldn’t register their meaning. I couldn’t even manage to
form a thought. I couldn’t do anything except stare at the chiseled
features of the man six feet away from me.

My chest tightened past the
point of breathing, but my heart pounded against it nonetheless. It
was him. I stared at the sandy blond hair, sun-kissed complexion,
and deep whiskey eyes. I had seen them a hundred times; I would
know them anywhere. It was him. Not in a vision, but here, in my
room, in flesh and blood.
Him
.

“
Brianna,” Aern said
anxiously, and I tore my gaze, my very focus, away from its target
to look at him.

Concern was plain on his face, and I abruptly
returned to myself.

“
Did you hear me?” he
asked.

I shook my head, took a
breath.
Oh God, was my mouth still hanging
open?
I cleared my throat. “Sorry.
What?”

His gaze narrowed, but he kept talking. “This
is Logan. He’s going to stay with you.”

Logan.
Logan
. I finally had a name. My eyes
were back on his now, I should be saying something.

Suddenly, Aern’s words sank in and I was
standing. “He’s going to be watching me?”

“
If that’s all right with
you,” Aern explained. He glanced at the man, Logan, and shrugged
his shoulder when he saw the one raised brow. Aern looked back at
me. “He’s the only one I trust, Brianna.”

I nodded. “Yeah, no, it’s
fine.”
Fine?
They
were staring at me. I wanted to start all over. More than anything,
I wanted another try. Or to hyperventilate. That would work,
too.

“
Have you been eating?” Aern
asked.

The question threw me. And then my gaze
betrayed me, flicking quickly toward the covered dishes on the side
table.

Aern sighed. “Brianna, you can’t do
this.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but it didn’t
matter that I wasn’t doing it on purpose.

He pointed at a chair and said, “Sit.” I did
as he asked, trying my best not to gawk at the other man in the
room. The Logan. A short, breathless laugh escaped and Aern stopped
what he was doing to glance at me. I smiled, hoping it didn’t
appear as manic as it felt, and he returned to setting the table
with my lunch, only shaking his head a little at my erratic
behavior.

I watched them as they swept the room,
discussing the existing and possible security measures. Aern’s arms
were crossed, his gaze frequently coming back to meet mine, but I
couldn’t look away.

I picked at the sandwich—prosciutto, oil, and
cheese, now lukewarm—but I could barely taste it. He was roughly
Aern’s height, but stouter. Or maybe he only seemed so in his dark,
military style cargo pants and black T-shirt. There was a nylon
belt crossing his waist, and it struck me where I’d seen a similar
outfit. I struggled against the bite I’d taken, throat suddenly
thick.

I’d forgotten about my attacker. I’d
forgotten why this man was here.

To protect me.

I stared at him anew. He might have been the
man from my visions, but he was a stranger. I knew nothing about
him, and he … well, he would be even less acquainted with me.

The two men gripped each other’s forearms,
and my stomach clenched. There was some unspoken message there,
some entreaty, some promise, and then it was gone, their connection
broken as they turned back to the room.

Logan stepped into the hall to speak with the
guards, and Aern sat in the chair opposite me. “Are you well,
Brianna?”

“
Yes,” I said automatically.
He watched me for a moment to be certain I wouldn’t change my
answer.

“
All right, then.” He stood,
placing a hand on my shoulder and looking down at me. “You know how
to reach me.”

I smiled. “I have your number.”

The corner of his mouth turned up and he
patted my back on his way past. When he reached the door, he called
over his shoulder, “Get some rest, Brianna.”

I turned, smiling, and caught Logan coming
back into the room.

The intimacy of the smile
meant for Aern suddenly felt awkward now, aimed at the familiar
stranger, and it faltered, leaving an uncomfortable pause between
me and this man who would be my babysitter. This
Logan
.

I cleared my throat, pointed toward the
bedroom. “I’m going to lie down.”

He nodded, but said nothing until I’d crossed
the room and my hand touched the brass lever.

“
Brianna.”

He spoke to my back, but the
sound of my name sounded different somehow; weightier, sweeter,
more
right
, in his
voice. I didn’t turn around.

“
I’d rather you left the
door open, if that’s all right with you.”

My fingers slipped off the lever and I
glanced back, only briefly, as I walked into the darkness of my
room.

Chapter Three

Concealed

I hadn’t slept at all. I had tried; counted
sheep, backwards in Russian, muffled footsteps in the hall. Even my
teeth. But all I could do was think of Logan. Of the prophecy. Of
the man who’d nearly carted me out the window.

Logan hadn’t slept either, I decided, because
though I’d never heard him, I’d seen his shadow pass the open door
throughout the night. I’d seen him stop, staring at my still form,
and I’d held my breath.

When I’d finally given up on rest, it was
before dawn. I walked barefoot across the carpet into the sitting
room—opulent in deep shades of blue and creamy white—and saw Logan
standing in front of the sofa, arms crossed as he studied the
painting. He didn’t turn as I approached, and my eyes traced every
line of his form, lingering on strong arms, broad shoulders, and
other bits here and there. I stopped beside him, gaze trained on
the painting, though I could see, almost imperceptibly, the corner
of his mouth twitch.

After a moment, he glanced at me. “What do
you think?”

Automatically, my head tilted sideways as I
considered the painting. “I like it,” I said. “Very much.”

He smiled then, only slightly, and I got the
feeling he’d found my answer amusing. I couldn’t understand
why.

“
So,” he said,
“breakfast?”

“
Oh,” I glanced down at my
cotton sleep pants, “I should get dressed.”

Logan touched my arm as I moved to go, and I
stared up at him, immediately immobilized. “I’ll have them send
something up.”