Centaur Redemption (Touched Series) (14 page)

BOOK: Centaur Redemption (Touched Series)
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My heart leapt in my chest.  That was one.  One of the six supported us.  Would it prove to be an empty victory?  Zandra would never see my side.  What would the results be if I could convince all the heads of families as easily as Pierre, but Zandra still chose to stand against us? 

Just as my worry began to consume me and I was ready to beg, or demand, or throw whatever hissy-fit  or whatever else might be necessary to get Drake to transform back, I heard Drake’s confident voice addressing Pierre.  “Your support means more to me than I can express.  I have heard of your greatness my whole life.  My family adores you, and we are grateful to be part of your herd.  I hope I live to see tomorrow, so I can tell my father he was right about you.”

Pierre took each of Drake’s forearms in a tight grasp, “Young Nash, it iz my honor to lead such a distinguished herd.  It iz my honor to call you one of Adolcio’s sons.” 

Pierre let go of Drake’s forearms and turned his attention toward me.  His voice lost some of its boisterous volume when he spoke, “I always zought the world of Angela.”  He paused, letting his words register for me.  Pierre had known my mother.  “You received more zan jus’ your mazur’s beauty.  I can zee her spirit shining srough yours.  Angela was ze rightful heir to the Centaur Council.  It is lucky for us she left this world zuch a treasure before she went to za pasture.  Azide from your Tak request, it is time for Zandra to retire.  I will support you as our new Chairman.”

We had done it.  We had an advocate on the Centaur Council.  Would it be enough to make the others listen?  Pierre gave me hope that it would. 

Pierre had forced Drake into transforming into a Centaur Warrior by pretending he was going to hurt me.  Before we left the resort, Drake and I had both decided if Drake transformed it would be seen as a horribly aggressive move.  We had stayed up late into the night trying to think through all of the possible scenarios we could come up with.  Yet Pierre, in just a few short minutes, completely changed our game plan.  I could only hope that Pierre was right.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 10

(Camille Nash – Centurion, South Africa)

 

Pierre seemed genuinely to admire Drake.  He had been nothing but kind to me, even when he was pretending to hurt me while tricking Drake’s body into transforming.  Pierre eased back down into his chair as if there weren’t a seven foot tall Centaur Warrior standing in the Council’s chambers.  “Take a deep bres; my bruzers are very close.  Convince zem as you have me.”  Pierre winked at me and gave me a sly smile.

The door opened. A set of eyes bulged from the doorway fixed on Drake.  “What the bloody hell is this?” 

Wide eyes looked back at us as a brute of a Centaur appeared through the door.  He towered over me, well over six feet tall, and his shoulders spread wide inside the doorway.  Pierre stood from his chair gesturing toward me with his outstretched arm.  “Charles, allow me to introduze Miss Camille Chiron.  She iz za late Angela’s daughter.  The warrior to her left iz her husband, Drake Nash of the Adolcio herd.”  Pierre then pointed toward the enormous Centaur in the doorway, “Camille, Drake, zis is my bruzer, Charles Fjord.  He iz za head of the Fjord family.”

Charles grunted.  His eyes were wild as he turned away from Drake and me.  He looked squarely at Pierre and asked, “Did this bloke try to attack you?”

Pierre scoffed, “No, of courze he did not.  I sought zat we had all ‘erd za rumors, we would like to zee for ourzelves.  I asked za young Nash to change before my bruzers arrived.  You do not agree?”

“No, I don’t agree.  When the others arrive, they’ll see him and do the same thing I did.  They’ll think he’s ready to fight.”

Pierre shook his head.  “No.  Zes two have too much respect for ze chamber.  Both are here to share information wiz us.  Neizer wishes for a battle today.”  Pierre gestured toward the chair in front of the Fjord portrait.  Take a zeat.  When ze oserz arrive we will hear zem out.”

Charles tentatively went to his chair beside Pierre.  Pierre comfortably took his seat again, but Charles was less comfortable in our presence, preferring instead to stand behind his chair.

Within minutes of Charles’ arrival, a smaller Centaur with red hair, fair skin and freckles emerged through the door.  He was much smaller than Charles or even Pierre, about my height.  His surprise registered as well, but he didn’t register the same fear Charles had.  Without any prodding from Pierre, he took the seat in front of the Barber portrait.  Since Pierre didn’t offer to introduce us, I walked around to his side of the table to introduce myself.

As I drew closer, I was struck by the brilliance of the green of his eyes.  This man looked familiar to me, but I couldn’t place from where.  I was sure I had seen him . . . somewhere.  I held out my hand, “Hello, I am Camille Nash.”  I gestured toward Drake still near the wall, “This is my husband Drake.  Thank you for agreeing to meet with us.”

He accepted my hand with furrowed brows, and when I touched his hand, he spoke to my thoughts, “
Correct your introduction.  Identify yourself as a Chiron.  Quickly!

I did as I was told.  “My apologies, sometimes I forget myself.  Drake and I were just married last week.  My father instructed me to introduce myself by my mother’s name.  I am Camille Chiron.”

The Centaur nodded with an understanding smile, “It has been many years since I was a newly-wed, but I do remember the excitement of it.  It is a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Chiron.  I am Byron Barber.  He looked across the room, sizing up Drake as he spoke, “Mr. Nash, thank you for joining us today.  I hope you are comfortable?”

Byron took his chair in front of the Barber portrait.  Drake nodded and in his most charming voice responded, “Thank you for asking, Mr. Barber.  I don’t believe it is possible to be comfortable in this chamber without an assigned seat.”

Drake’s answer struck Charles and Pierre as funny, as both released a light chuckle.  Byron merely smiled before he added, “Quite right, Mr. Nash.  Sometimes I’m not comfortable here, and I
have
an assigned seat.”

It struck me odd that the head of each family was a Centaur rather than a Centauride.  From the moment I found out about our ancestry, it was clear that the Centaurides made the decisions.  Where were they?  I didn’t want to be disrespectful, so I asked Drake telepathically, “
Why are the heads of all the families Centaur, not Centaurides?

Drake smiled and shared his wordless response, “
Centaurs have traditionally been the warriors.  The Centaur Council was formed to deal with disputes between families.  The matriarchs, or Centaurides, settle most disputes long before they would be elevated to this group.  For as long as I can remember, this has been more ceremonial than anything.


Any idea why Byron Barber looks familiar to me?

Drake cocked his head to the side, registering his surprise, “
No.  I’ve never met him.  His accent is definitely American.  For some reason I think he’s from California.

California.  My God that seemed like a lifetime ago.  In reality it had been less than six months since I left.  My brain began scanning every face I could think of growing up:  every male school teacher and principal, customers who had gone through my line when I was a cashier.  He was familiar, and it seemed as though I had spoken with him.  There was something familiar in the cadence of his voice.

Pierre Adolcio, Charles Fjord, and Byron Barber had all been friendly to both Drake and me.  As I looked at the remaining empty seats, I knew there were only a few more to walk through the door:  the heads of family for Schwieken and Owens, maybe my uncle Angelo for Chiron.  I couldn’t imagine anyone coming from the Tak herd.  I took a deep breath, bracing myself for the moment when I would be face-to-face with Zandra again.

Two more Centaurs filed into the Chamber.  Drake angled his body so he was facing the door.  He had pulled me in close to his side closest to the wall.  This position ensured that my body was partially shielded by his, yet gave both of the Centaurs arriving a clear view of me. 

Pierre didn’t even stand to greet the others as they entered.  Instead he fanned out his arm gesturing toward Drake and me.  “I stopped by a few minutes early.  It iz my pleazure to introduce you to one of my sons.  Zis warrior standing before you is Drake Nash of my line.  The Chiron Centauride protected by my son is Camille Chiron.  Zey have graciously stopped by to anzer our questions today.  Camille, Drake, zis is Wayne Schwieken and Ryan Owens.”

Pierre’s attempt to diffuse any rhetoric that Zandra may have started was obvious and appreciated.  Not only had he found a way to transform Drake into his warrior form before anyone could arrive, he’d done it before anyone could see him as just another Centaur.  Pierre had also identified Drake as clearly one of his herd to everyone in the room. 

Drake was magnificent in his warrior form and no doubt rumors had been flying about him for weeks.  This brief introduction by Pierre was a non-menacing way to let everyone know the rumors had not been embellished.  If we made it out of this alive, I would owe Pierre my life – our lives.

Pierre’s introduction of me was equally strategic.  All along we had said we wanted to address the Council because of my Tak blood.  He had conveniently left that out of the introduction with each of the others, calling me Camille Chiron.  In fact Byron had corrected me when I had introduced myself as Camille Nash.  For a room that had felt so intimidating when we arrived, it now felt as though we had several friends here.

I felt beady little eyes staring holes into the side of my head.  Rather than snapping my attention in the direction of the glare, I gingerly angled my head.  There she stood:  all ninety pounds of her, brimming with disgust, wordlessly scowling at me. 

I did my best to keep the contempt out of my voice.  “Good afternoon, Grandmother.  I hope you had a decent flight.”

My words took the council by surprise.  Eyes quickly darted between Zandra and me.  Pierre coughed; although I didn’t try to read his thoughts, I was sure his gesture was a warning not to get cocky with Zandra here.

“Camille, I cannot imagine why you felt it necessary to address the Council.  If I didn’t know better, I would think this was some sort of power play by you to forcibly have me removed from my position.”

I didn’t expect Zandra to cut to the chase so quickly.  What was the right response?  She’d been here for less than a minute and was already backing me into a corner.  If I said I wasn’t trying to remove her, that would be a lie.  I hated that she had any influence at all over Centaurs.  Truth, no matter how awful it tastes coming out, is always better than a lie.

“You are the most perceptive Centauride I’ve ever met, Grandmother.  ‘Forcibly’ is a strong word.  I’d prefer to make a few clarifications on my existence to the Centaur Council and let them decide the best course of action.”  Realizing that my every word would likely come under scrutiny from all in the room, I added, “I hope that is acceptable to the Chairman?”

Before Zandra could utter a sound, a voice I never thought I’d hear again rang out from behind her.  “Forgive the Chairman, Darlin’, she’s not herself today.  We just found out that some god killed our parents, and we were hoping you migh’ be able to give us some insight on who that might be.”

Zethus walked through the doorway and stood next to Zandra.  Mouths stood agape as eyes darted between the two.  No one had any words, even me.  Zethus smiled widely, and I saw the twinkle in his eyes as he looked directly at me.  “Let’s do this a little more informally, Zandra, if you don’t mind, you’ve already got a seat at the end of the table.  I’ll take the Chiron chair.  Camille, how about you take Rupert’s seat?  I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

 

 

 

 

Chapter 11

(Ben Strayer – Centurion, South Africa)

 

I watched the Centaur Council disappear down a set of steps.  The private chambers were below ground.  If I were building a fortress in the middle of an urban jungle, that’s where I’d put it, too.  I watched as, one by one, each of the Heads of Family disappeared through the door.  An old Centaur had been standing against the back wall behind Zandra.  She turned and spoke with him, then gestured him toward the staircase, too.  When the two of them began their descent, chatter erupted in all directions. 

That was with the exception of my family.  Beau was tight up against Lacey, scanning the room for any potential threat.  I really liked Lacey in spite of her being a California girl.  I expected her to be shallow, like all the girls I always saw on television, which was seriously not the case. 

Before we all went into hiding, she and Beau had spent a couple days in South Carolina.  When Dad told Bart and me to take the cars into town and have them all washed and waxed, Lacey surprised us all by disappearing into the garage and coming out with a bucket and sponges, saying, “C’mon, it’ll be fun.”  Winter time in South Carolina isn’t bad, and it was a warm day in the seventies.  She was right:  it was fun.  I hadn’t washed a car by hand since I was a kid; we washed all seven cars that day.  One of Lacey's powers was to move objects:  Beau made a goofy comment to her and sponges flew out of the buckets, nailing him from all sides.  It was the best water bombing I'd ever seen.  Lacey blew my stereotype of the typical California girl out of the water.

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