Authors: Emma Raveling
And I suddenly understood what bothered me.
Ian should've known Gilroy would screw me over with Callan's information. Yet he was the one who told me to specifically make a deal about Callan. Not about the auction.
It didn't make sense.
If it weren't for Tristan's quick thinking at the last meeting, we would've ended up with nothing.
I leaned forward. "Why are you after Callan?"
Aubrey froze. "Kendra —"
Ian touched her knee. She hesitated, then settled back into the sofa.
He gave me a level stare. "Callan's been my focus since the beginning. Not the auction. I need to get into that factory and find him."
It was the first time I heard him use that firm tone.
A million different doubts raced. Did he know Callan? Did they work together before? Was he working with him now?
I braced myself. "What are you planning to do when you find him?"
"Kill him."
The tiniest tremble in his voice gave it away.
I studied him. Dark brown eyes shone with what I knew to be true.
Those were the eyes of someone who took care of abandoned animals. Read lines of tangled code in one blink. Understood the complexities of Aubrey in a single glance.
They weren't the eyes of a killer. They were the eyes of my friend.
So I gently asked him the one question I couldn't ask myself. "Why?"
Fierce pain cracked his face and the expression knifed through my gut.
"Because Callan's my father."
Bits and pieces of what he'd said over the past few weeks linked into a logical chain of events.
His father was turned, the rest of his family dead.
Callan had once been a charismatic businessman. A devoted family man and good father.
His first kills were his wife and child.
Ian's mother and sister.
Coldness seeped into every part of me. I waited until I could speak calmly.
"You knew?"
Aubrey nodded.
Of course Ian didn't say anything. If it got out that the head of the trafficking ring was his father, even my grandmother's protection wouldn't spare his life.
"All this time. You've been following him."
He stared at the floor. "Been tracking him since he turned five years ago. When I came home from the store and found my mom and sister's bodies."
Aubrey slid an arm under his. Ian's life had changed in an instant.
Like so many others. Too many.
"My father made an exceptional Aquidae." His voice was bitter. "The Shadow spotted his natural talent and assigned him to head the trafficking ring two years ago."
He lifted his head. "I need to go in there, Kendra. Put an end to what he's done."
The haunted desperation on his face was one I'd seen too many times in my own reflection.
"They've always wanted the
sondaleur
." I carefully reworked the plan. "I can provide a distraction and keep their attention on me while the two of you do your thing. Once you shut it down, the gardinels and chevaliers can come in."
Was I doing the right thing? Was I making another mistake?
I didn't want Aubrey and Ian there. It was too dangerous.
But one look at his haggard face shot another wave of fury through me. I held tight and hardened it into single-minded purpose.
They'd be safe as long as I did my job as
sondaleur
.
While they worked on the factory controls, I'd carry out the one thing I could do.
Aubrey spoke up. "We can make it work —"
I raised my hand. "But only if you leave your father to me."
Ian's eyes widened.
"I know why you want to do it. But it's not possible. He's an Aquidae. You don't stand a chance."
He lived with enough pain. Even if he could physically manage to kill his father, he'd never survive it.
Besides, I'd made a promise to Marcella and Gabe. This was my responsibility.
Callan was mine.
Ian's throat worked. "But —"
I leaned forward and gripped his arm. "I promise you. Your father will be taken care of."
He stared and I suddenly wondered what he saw in my eyes.
Did he see the eyes of a friend? Or the eyes of a killer?
And I realized some part of me didn't want to know. Maybe I no longer cared.
Resignation and a trace of relief slid across his face. He gave a slow nod.
I stood and took out my cell. "Come on."
"Where are we going?" Aubrey asked.
I dialed the familiar number. "To see people who'll think this plan is insane."
TWENTY-EIGHT
Aubrey and Ian stared at Nexa with avid fascination.
The chair overshadowed her diminutive form. Puffs of cigarette smoke shrouded her in a hazy veil and she took another gulp of scotch.
Jeeves stood beside Rhian at her desk. I wasn't sure if what I said or being in the same room with his estranged grandmother caused the tension on his face.
Tristan leaned against the fireplace mantel, his overwhelming presence making the office appear smaller.
Julian seemed to find the entire situation entertaining. He lounged by the door, eyes shining with curious interest.
His resemblance to Jeeves and Nexa was now startlingly clear.
Julian possessed his father's cool canniness and a charismatic energy that demanded attention. But he also had a touch of Nexa's mysteriousness. And like her, he had an ability to genuinely not give a shit about what was going on around him.
It was an interesting cast. I waited for the assault to begin.
Five. Four. Three. Two…
Nexa started it off. "How interesting. You want to be bait."
Strain tightened Rhian's face. "You are the
sondaleur
. This is much too dangerous."
"It's too risky." Tristan's tone was hard. "Too many things could go wrong."
Why wasn't I surprised they were the first three?
"Selkies and demillirs can't see the place until the magic is shut off," I said calmly. "It's the best way to stop the auction."
Jeeves asked the first reasonable question. "Are you planning to stop heating the blood that's fueling the magic?"
"Removing the heat takes too long," Aubrey said. "Closing the smokestack valves is quicker and takes ten to fifteen minutes. The magic should dissipate in a minute or two."
"But once we shut the valves, the pressure will build," Ian explained. "It'll leave a window of about thirty minutes to rescue the victims and evacuate."
Tristan swore.
Well, I didn't say it was the best plan in the world. But it was the only one we had.
Sharp hazel eyes landed on me. "Nanette said there was something she couldn't identify. We don't know how dangerous it is."
Rhian focused on the one thing also bothering me the most. Lack of information could prove to be a significant weakness.
She was probably the one who taught that to my mother in the first place.
"I know," I admitted. "But it's a chance we have to take."
"Why are you the bait?" Tristan's low, concerned voice wrapped around me. "It's unnecessary. Just stay with the other two and go to the control room together."
Dark eyes pushed, shifting things that needed to remain in place.
What you're really doing is punishing yourself.
My fingers twitched.
There was no other choice. This was my job. I had promises to keep.
Nexa's eyes narrowed.
I focused on controlling my expression and voice. It was the only way to convince them.
"This is a better way of protecting Aubrey and Ian."
It wasn't a lie. Once I eliminated the Aquidae, everyone would be safer. Not just Aubrey and Ian.
He wouldn't let it go. "How?"
I had my argument ready. "Because my aura is overly bright, Your Highness."
It was the one thing he'd hammered into me at that elite training session.
"Being with them would be a hindrance rather than a help. By drawing the Aquidae away, they'll actually be safer."
Nexa exhaled. "Or maybe you're the one who wants to do something alone."
The pointed remark irritated me. "I can handle it."
"We're not talking about one or two." Tristan crossed his arms. "According to Gilroy, approximately a hundred Aquidae will be there —"
"I think Kendra's right." Julian's smooth voice cut in. "This might be our best shot."
Surprised, I glanced at him.
He winked. Good God.
Tristan's expression darkened. "That shouldn't be our only consideration."
Julian gave him a measured look. "It should be."
"Sometimes the cost is too high to be worth the risk."
"Risk carries its own value, Your Highness. This is a chance to shut the entire operation down."
Tristan's voice grew quieter. "Value does not equal worth."
That tone was ominous. Julian blatantly ignored it.
"Don't you trust her abilities, Your Highness?" He casually picked lint off his shirt. "Or maybe you don't trust yours?"
Tristan tensed.
"The auction's taking place tomorrow night," I said loudly. "If you have a better plan, I'm all ears. If not, we should put this together."
No one spoke.
Nexa lit another cigarette. "This is much more entertaining than the episode when Marisol convinced Allan to marry her because she was dying of a brain tumor."
Ian started coughing. Aubrey's brow furrowed.
I suppressed a sigh. No one else blinked.
Rhian turned. "Augustin. Any thoughts?"
"If we go ahead, it'd have to be done without the Council."
The weight of his statement added to the tension. The Governing Council wouldn't accept an operation hinging on two teenage ondines and a teenage nix.
If we proceeded, everyone, including Tristan and Rhian, stood alone. We were all subject to the wrath of the Council should it fail.
Rhian nodded slowly. "Nexa?"
We waited as she took a long sip of scotch. Another drag of her cigarette.
A minute ticked by. Aubrey nervously shifted.
"The river of what is true will never fail you," she said.
I frowned. Was she talking to me? To Rhian? Someone else?
Everyone accepted the statement without question. Only Ian and Aubrey looked as if they questioned her sanity.
Join the club.
Rhian moved on. "Head Chevalier LeVeq."
Julian was temporarily assuming Gabe's role, but hearing the title somehow made it more real.
"Do you have a team of chevaliers that can be trusted with the nature of this operation?"
He nodded. "Of course, Governor."
"Prince Belicoux?"
A series of emotions flickered through his eyes.
Frustration. Worry. Concern. And finally, reluctant resignation.
He let out a deep breath. "The same goes for the gardinels, Governor."
If we shut down this trafficking ring, it'd be a huge victory for elementals. Although the Shadow would find a way around it soon enough, it'd temporarily prevent the Aquidae from turning victims.
This was big and everyone knew it.
My grandmother leaned back and closed her eyes. Once again, the Governor's mask slipped off her face.
In that moment, I didn't see the authoritarian leader who ran Haverleau with an iron fist.
I saw an old, tired woman who'd shouldered the heavy burden of power for a long time.
A woman who constantly doubted whether she did what was right.
Rhian's eyes opened and met mine.
Her mouth straightened and she gave a tiny, almost imperceptible nod.
***
We spent another two hours working on details. Once the meeting adjourned, Aubrey and Ian left for the Tech Department to study factory control schematics. Julian went to assemble his team of chevaliers.
Exhausted, I strode down the hallway leading to the back of the Governing House. Dagger pressed against my calf, reminding me of my purpose.
It was difficult to listen to everyone's questions. To reign in my impatience as they went over things I had no interest in.
The
sondaleur
was finally stepping up. I flexed my hand.
Soon
.
Cold air carried the slight tang of the ocean. Even in the middle of winter, the Royal Gardens remained immaculate.
I walked along the stone pathway, remembering Patrice's Transmutation magic. Fingers trailed over the rough edge of a leaf. The curve of a petal. The smoothness of a vine.
They all contained beauty. Life. Power.
I headed deeper into the garden, losing myself in the dense labyrinth of colors and perfumes. Tendrils and blossoms reached, stretching and flourishing with vitality.
Sondaleur
meant the sound of the flower.
I came from this. The magical marriage between land and water, a fusion that symbolized life.
Why was I removed from it?
Everything involved death. I trained my entire life to be a weapon. My job meant I had to do it again and again.
All while death continued to watch me. Waiting to take someone away.
No matter what I did, I couldn't be free from it.
I stopped and leaned in to a bright collection of bushes bursting with white, orange, and yellow. Closing my eyes, I strained to reawaken elemental senses. To remember the vibration Jourdain spoke of.
To find the answers everyone asked of me.
I breathed.
White forsythia's almond aroma blended with the sweet scent of witch hazel. A note of moisture, rich and refreshing, delicately draped over it.
An ache spread. It reminded me of Marcella.
"Kendra."
The low, gentle voice pulled at me again. Like the ocean's undertow.
I turned to face him. How long had he been watching?
Tristan walked toward me, his own scent weaving through the fragrant blooms. The rich color of his hair gleamed in the late afternoon sun.
"I know you're worried about the plan," I said tiredly. "But I don't want to talk about it."