Read The Bonded Online

Authors: John Falin

Tags: #Urban Fantasy, #Fiction

The Bonded (22 page)

BOOK: The Bonded
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I say, “How did you select my parents?”

“I remained in Atlanta and it was a complicated challenge to feed you and me with no assistance. The second night I was in a local convenience store, searching for formula, when I overheard two well-dressed humans conversing about their extreme disappointment that the adoption was cancelled because the young mother decided at the last moment to keep her child. The female was mildly distraught and her husband played the role of comforter as her tears dropped with cadence. I could not utilize legal means for your adoption for obvious reasons, so I spontaneously decided to take advantage of the situation and started a conversation with the humans.

“Through the years, I have rehashed the scenario hundreds of times and cannot seem to piece together the events without labeling it odd. I am six-foot-nine with wild hair and most likely the largest
human
they had ever seen, yet they showed no signs of intimidation or awe, just pleasantly accepted me, and with very little convincing, accepted you as well. The entire deal was completed outside the store about midnight over a soda and handshake. Surreal would be a descriptive word, but if possible, it was stranger than that. They never asked my name and did not inquire as to why I never asked theirs. We simply parted ways and I never knew your location until I saw you with Cassius. Were it not for my extreme desperation, I would never have given you to them and would have planned more carefully, but the time was short and the opportunity seemed fortuitous.”

My mind is swimming in the murky sea of memories with faded snapshots of my foster mom whispering in the ear of my foster dad while peering in my direction. I try to focus on that picture, transforming it into a film that is cut and melted from poor storage. Movement begins and the silent film eases into life with sounds of silverware clinking and our dog, Texas, barking in our backyard. I must have been four years old, but remember straining my ears to decipher their clandestine conversation while playing with the peanut butter and jelly sandwich for a diversion. I hear the scattered questions between mumbles. “They were right; he is different. I’m scared, honey. What happens when he grows up? Where will they take him? Why do we have to hide?” I fast-forward to the present and am relieved that Percy and Quilici did not notice my temporary departure, so I decide it is best to keep this small revelation for me, for now.

Percy breaks the intensity. “Quilici, has Bryn told you everything that has happened to both of us?”

“Yes, he has.”

“What is your hypothesis?”

Once again he moves back into the recliner and replies, “First, let me summarize what I know so we are all on the same page, as it were. You were bonded through Adriel’s fae mother at the conclusion of the ritual. I also found it absolutely fascinating that you followed him around for nearly twenty-five years while he roamed free, hopping countries every so often. I am conjecturing of course, but think that she needed someone to protect him. Even without your knowledge, you played the role well and in one case, saved his life in New Orleans. It would not astonish me to discover that you were instrumental in saving his life many times through your travels without realization. I digress. When you eventually met in person, there was a physical aching that drew you together and it seemed to heighten during times that Adriel unleashed his nature. Recently, you physically
united
and the moment caused a sliver of your hair to adopt his color of white. What am I missing?”

Percy answers, “Both of our metabolisms have increased, requiring me to feed more due to an increased appetite and yet, Adriel’s hunger has diminished.” I see her contemplating whether she would like share a confidence and then the decision is made with resolution. “We can also feel each other, but not physically. We can sense the other’s intentions and emotions, although the clarity is rather muddy.”

“Hmmm, that is fascinating. I wonder if the fae’s ability to absorb or draw in particles is related to your predicament.” I can tell that he thoroughly enjoys this kind of mental exercise and understand why Felix chose him as the Pack Leader during this time. He is cool headed, a critical thinker, and able to hold information with discretion.

He continues. “It also appears that Adriel’s maturation is a process, and it would make logical sense that your bonding is a process as well, beginning at his birth and now is nearing the end of its growth, as Adriel is nearing his full maturity as well.”

I interrupt. “I’m starting to feel uncomfortable with everyone assuming I’m a young one in puberty.”

He half smiles and returns to the conversation. “Forgive me, but to us, you are young. You have not experienced the fullness of what you will become. Although I think you are physically ready, your mind has not accepted it yet.” He darts to Percy. “The more he accepts and utilizes what he is, your bond will solidify. The question is why Adriel has less need for blood now. It would appear that he did not inherit the fae ability to absorb nutrients from his surroundings, but requires less somehow.” He taps his chin in sequence and catches Percy and me sharing a look, then says, “Would you like to articulate your thoughts on this?”

I acquiesce to Percy. “We think that I have ‘absorbed’ some of his metabolism and immune system, but it would be more true to say that I have more of the blood-water within me. If I were to dip a cup into the ocean and fill it to the top, the ocean would still have the same molecular composition in the same percentages as would the cup. Just as Adriel has retained what he is, losing nothing, in spite of giving me a cup full.” She allows the message to be received and goes on. “Also, his burn still increases, but, as we discovered from his unique experience with the Resurrectio, he does not age as we do and I seem to absorb his hunger or, more appropriately, he is sated by my presence.” She gives me a salacious wink and I feel like a young one in puberty. Damn!

He replies, “This Vinculum is unusual and powerful. We really have no way of knowing what will result from its snare. Let me think on this for a while. Meantime, the night is disappearing and there are a couple of more items I would like to discuss.” He purposely walks into the master bedroom and I hear the whoosh of a closet door open and the grumble of clutter as he digs for his prize. Percy and I remain in complete silence while she considers the stories told this evening and I wrestle with Caedmon’s scent.

Unfortunately, time is short and Quilici arrives with a frame turned around so as not to spoil the surprise. He struts over to the coffee table, peacocking his hair in extravagance, letting us know that he has information that no one else possesses.

He says, “The next evening, after the four of us found the Knosis, I returned to the church, hoping to find some evidence or piece of information that would help me discover his true intentions. I was very fortunate as one page was left unscathed, hiding under the second pew, and I took it, eventually having it framed.” He places it gently on the table, right side up, and we are enraptured. “The painting was faded due to centuries of neglect. Fortunately, it was caught before irreparable damage was incurred. It is Anu, albeit archaic and childish for today’s standard of art.”

He was a massively built man, not in height, but in muscle. His hair was the darkness that humans ran from to escape predators hunting in the night and his skin was a soft ivory that mirrored the pelted snow of Northern Europe. It is when I methodically arrive at his eyes that a burst of heat races through my arteries. His eyes are my eyes, no difference at all. I lift my head to Quilici in wonderment.

He responds. “You have more of the blood-water than any of our kind since Anu, and this is what gives you your hunger, senses, and I suspect… immortality.” He lets that word hover for a stretched pause and says, “You are partially fae, Adriel. You are also partially vampire. What you are
not
is less than both. You are more. I do not know how this happened, but the genetics have combined, giving you the progenitor’s abilities and the benefit of evolution. I think your fae mother robbed you of any potential to be as strong as a waer, but we cannot all be perfect.” He chuckles. “You are one of us, but different. Do not get any delusions of grandeur, though. You are not undefeatable. You are not a god, and you are not a match for an elder of any species yet. Caedmon could have killed you this evening, but for reasons unknown to me, he chose not to.”

I shout, “That’s it!”

Percy, startled by my explosive outburst says, “What?”

“I know where else I smelled Africa. A while back, during sword lessons with Seth, I caught a scent on him that was foreign. It was as if one tiny molecule had jumped from his clothes to my nose—it was Caedmon.”

Percy asks, “Are you positive?”

And Quilici answers. “Of course he is. The memories are never wrong. This is much worse than I imagined. Seth withholds nothing from Cassius, either by choice or due to their innate lie detector. If Caedmon and Cassius are conspiring, the pack has been compromised and the entire waer population, the vamps as well, will be under their joint leadership.”

Percy says, “We must discover what Cassius’s true purpose is and why.”

I say, “I agree. There must be a way they communicate. If we can somehow intercept the conversation, we can make our plans accordingly.”

Finally Quilici chimes in. “There is a place just beyond Burkittsville on a trail that leads up South Mountain where Caedmon retreats for privacy. He has no clue that I am aware of its location and it seems like a probable meeting point.”

“Why don’t any of you use cell phones?” I ask.

Percy steps in and says, “We can detect lies, and the waers have even been known to feel intentions. This can only be accomplished if we are physically present.” Makes sense to me.

Quilici adds, “We will leave immediately after dusk. I imagine they will need to talk soon due to the most recent happenings. It is near sunrise and we require rest, but there is one more thing I must give Adriel.” He steps out of the living room and exits the kitchen door that leads to the three-car garage, the door closing behind him in a vacuum.

I turn my attention to Percy, saying, “This doesn’t seem real. I’ve been moving so quickly I haven’t had the opportunity to reflect on all the changes to me, to us, and to our roles in the bigger picture.” I let out a breath. “If I’m being honest, I don’t feel equipped for this. I’m not a hero or even a leader. I mean, I realize that these new abilities are remarkable and I don’t take that for granted, but at the end of the day, they’re just weapons. What matters is the heart of a person. Who they are. I’m afraid I don’t possess what truly matters.” I can feel her tender concern and she encourages me without words.

Then she speaks. “You have much to give, and as you said, your abilities do not define who you are. If they were to disappear never to return, I would still be here with you. I appreciate your humility and concern, for those are what make you truly powerful.”

Right when I start to feel the serenity of Percy’s presence, a sharp pain doubles me over and I let slip a whimpering cry. It inches through my abdomen, up the neck, and finds a resting place right behind my eyes. The pressure is so intense that my vision blurs with dotted halos reminiscent of a delightful little migraine. I squeeze my eyes shut in an effort to crush whatever has invaded my body and creak one open, finding Percy suffering from sympathy pain. She doesn’t feel the ubiquity of it, but her demeanor has changed with a long wince.

I hear her say, “Quilici, what are you doing? Take what you are carrying and leave!”

Quilici responds, “I cannot. This is his by right and he must work through it.” He finishes the thought and unsheathes the sword that was stolen from Cassius, that was stolen from my mother. The sword glows with an electric blue light that seems to be nervously dancing within the tribal inlay, desiring to get out. The pain subsides to a dull ache, spreading throughout my entire body and pulls me from the inside in the direction of the sword. I stand in submission and walk toward Quilici as he matches my pace with the curious look of examining a science project on his face. The sword pulls my hand forward and stray shards jump from me to the sword, sedating the dancing blue to a soothing river that flows gently back and forth in the pattern. With compulsion, we touch, the sword and I. There is a mild transfer of energy from me as the sword swallows all it can digest, then cools in appreciation as my body feels whole and calm.

I say, “It isn’t alive, but it
is
a shadow of life. I can sense its desire to connect with me and I feel more… complete.”

Percy moves in my direction, but is very careful not to touch me, letting me know that she is nervous about our bond and the sword as memories flutter through her mind. Quilici takes a step backward to accommodate any power fluctuation from the sword and says while rubbing his chin, “It is even more than we thought. I know nothing of the sword other than what Bryn and Percy have shared with me, but I may know of someone who can provide some helpful information about this, your mother, and the intention of Cassius.”

Percy and I simultaneously furrow our brows, signaling an unspoken question. He receives the signal and answers accordingly, “I know where the scientist is.” After the initial shock is over, I catch myself with a death grip on the sword and slowly allow my fingers to relax enough to lessen the tension.

Percy is not fairing much better. I feel her emotions and this is strike two for Quilici. Reining them in, she asks, “At what point in time did you find his location?”

He knows better and immediately responds. “Bryn, through his extensive network, narrowed down the possible sites last month, and then last night called me with an actual address. I promise I had no idea until then.”

The tension evaporates and I say, “Well, let’s get through tomorrow evening and find out all we can about this cute unholy alliance and then we’ll make plans to go visit the good doctor. Does that sound about right?”

In unison, “Sure/Yes.”

BOOK: The Bonded
2.46Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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