Crest (Ondine Quartet Book 3) (13 page)

"It's a good idea," Alex said. "We watched them the other day. Chlo is scary good."

A flush of pleasure colored her cheeks.

"Still can't believe you didn't tell us, though."

Cam's scowl bounced between me and Chloe. I wasn't sure who he was more irritated with.

Chloe tossed back a long lock of platinum hair. "People are eventually going to find out. But now that you're back —"

"It's just going to make things worse," a low voice said.

Julian sauntered over and took a seat in the booth opposite us. "I told her it would've been more productive to stay outside, working on the Shadow investigation. Here, it's just the usual political bullshit."

Aubrey's brow furrowed and Chloe studied Julian as if there was something new about him.

He avoided looking at me. "You're wasting time on the Council tomorrow."

The session was the perfect cover for me to investigate. Why couldn't he see that?

"We can't just go running around." I said, irritated. "We'll need resources and support, which means we'll need political backing —"

"So you say."

"And if we go out now, then what?" My voice rose. "We have no clues, LeVeq. We're at ground zero again and —"

A slight pressure on my arm. At Ian's warning look, I took in the rest of Rivière. Several customers stared at me with hostile distrust.

I took a deep breath and lowered my voice. "Just because I'm fulfilling this heir stuff doesn't mean my work as
sondaleur
stops. I'm continuing the investigation from the inside."

"I think that's the wrong way to go about it."

"Then it's a good thing I don't care what you think," I shot back.

A thick, uncomfortable silence descended. Julian turned his face away from me so I couldn't see his expression.

Damn it. This wasn't the way I wanted things to be between us.

But the way he questioned my choices rubbed me the wrong way. He should've known me well enough by now.

I'd never abandon the battlefield for a safe seat hiding behind status and wealth.

In fact, I suspected he did know that.

Which meant this constant provocation was his insecurity's way of playing games. That was something I had no time or patience for.

"Are you in charge again?" Cam finally asked.

No one missed the slight accusation in his voice.

Except Julian. Or maybe he chose to ignore it.

"Yeah." He slipped back into his usual cool voice. "For now."

"Count me in as someone who's glad you're back." Bastien brought over a steaming pot of coffee and poured a fresh to-go cup for Julian. "Not to knock on Christophe or anything."

He was being polite. Everyone knew Christophe, who filled in as temporary Head Chevalier, was a highly ineffective leader.

Cam blamed Julian for it and he wasn't the only one. Most people still thought Julian was a screw-up; they probably assumed he'd been hanging out and partying in New York. They didn't know about his Virtue or the dangerous work he did.

But Julian didn't help that image, either. He shrugged and gave Bastien a lazy grin. I wondered if I was the only one who noticed the hard glint in his eyes.

"What can I say? Sometimes a guy just needs a break."

Cam's scowl deepened. Without another word, Julian grabbed his coffee and left.

Alex seemed utterly immune to the tension in the air. "This eclair is amazing."

He inhaled the remaining portion like a vacuum cleaner.

Bastien tilted his head, amusement crossing his face. "As good as Stan's?"

"Sorry, man." Cam shook his head. "Stan's eclairs were legendary."

Aub tossed a napkin at him. "You're drooling."

"Give Haverleau time," Bastien told me. "They're nervous. The changes are happening quick."

He left and I took in the faces sitting around me. As long as I had them, I was doing all right.

"You guys ready for the conference?"

Not only had Tristan invited Aubrey and Ian, but he'd also assigned them a huge project for the kingdom. They were building a computer translation program and database to catalogue the entire palace library.

"Yep. Exciting stuff." Aubrey cast a slightly worried look at Ian.

He was going to be the only nix heading into selkie territory. The two shapeshifting races had a long history of bad relations.

Ian lightly touched her hand. "I'm going as Prince Belicoux's personal guest."

"Pretty fancy."

Anyone who tried to hurt him would have to go through me first.

"Well, we're not going so we don't know anything," Alex said. "Kinda sucks."

Cam's scowl deepened.

"Actually..." Chloe's eyes lit up. "I have something to tell you guys."

"You're going, too," Ian muttered absent-mindedly. "Kendra, maybe we should...Ouch!"

He rubbed the shoulder Aubrey whacked. With her prosthesis.

"You already know?" Chloe's expression was slightly crestfallen.

Aubrey shot Ian another furious look then gave her a weak smile. "We found out when Norman came to the Justice department yesterday."

He was Chloe's former boss at the State Department. She'd interned there before transferring over to Jeeves' office so she could participate in the training program.

Ian winced. "Sorry, Chlo. Didn't mean to spoil the surprise."

"Why are you going?" Cam sounded surly.

"Norman said diplomatic skills might be needed."

That meant Tristan expected a lot of tension.

"Guess you and I are the only ones left out of this," Alex told Cam, his voice cheerful.
 

"Great," Cam muttered.

A few more minutes of idle chitchat before we split for the afternoon. Chloe, Ian, and Aubrey headed for the governing complex.

I walked back to the Academy with the others.

The beginning of February showed no sign of an approaching spring. Grey skies loomed above us and chilly winds nipped at our skin.

"I can't believe you got out of classes for a month," Cam complained.

I shrugged. "Yeah, but Catrin bombarded me with work the entire time. Do you know how unbelievably boring it is to read about Redavi ancestry?"

We crossed the Quad, familiarity settling over me like a warm blanket.

Iciness touched my spine.

I halted. The back of my neck tingled.

Slowly, my eyes closed and I listened. To the wind whipping between creaking branches, the bubbly conversations of students as they hurried to afternoon classes.

There was no one.

But I sensed the weight of invisible eyes pressing against my back.

Watching. Waiting.

Who are you?

"Irisavie, you coming?" Cam called.

I shook off the feeling and hurried to catch up. Those irises were starting to make me paranoid, which was exactly what the Shadow wanted. It'd be a cold day in hell before I made things easy for him.

We strode into the Training Center and younger recruits glanced at me with surprise. Word I was back hadn't spread yet.

I waited for Cam and Alex outside the locker room, then took the east stairwell up to the second floor.

Two elites waited near the partially full bleachers.

"Enjoy the smell of sweaty floor mats, Irisavie?"

"I thought that smell was you."

Pale skin, sky blue eyes, and fine blonde hair so light it almost appeared white gave Blaise Aucoin a deceptively ethereal look. That angelic expression concealed a killer instinct and a strong right hook that took most opponents by surprise.

He clasped my arm. "Good to have you back."

Ethan Fournier nodded and crossed his arms. His curly red hair and perpetually serious expression sharply contrasted with Blaise.

"I kicked Cam's ass for you while you were gone."

Cam snorted. "My back kick is still better than yours and Irisavie's combined."

"What's that?" I cupped my ear. "Oh, right. That's the sound of me not giving a shit."

Ethan's mouth twitched. "Doesn't matter, Cam. It still doesn't change the fact I brought you down in two minutes on Sunday."

"Now that I'm back, I'll take over the kicking of his ass, Ethan." I tied my hair back in a low ponytail and ignored the very prominent finger Cam sent my way. "As long as you handle Alex."

Blaise laughed. "So I'm the only demillir that can take on the
sondaleur
?"

I nudged his shoulder. "It's 'cause I like you the best."

A group of eight selkies walked on to the mats. "Let's go!"

Garreth Percailou, Haverleau's current Chief Gardinel, was built like a tank. Massive chest and arms radiated brute strength and force. Hard, granite eyes glittered with the same brilliant ferocity as his amethyst
pedaillon
.

We lined up and Garreth's glare wiped the smile off my face.

He gave a short nod. "Irisavie."

I blinked. Coming from him, it was the equivalent of a teary hug.

"Before we start today's class, I have some news to announce." Low, gravelly voice rumbled through the gym. "As you know, the conference is coming up. It's the first time our Kingdom will be open to elementals."

None of the gardinels looked very happy at that statement.

The shapeshifting selkies were an intensely private race, preferring to deal with underwater dessondines than elementals. Their mysterious kingdom had remained closed off to outsiders for most of its history.

"Since the Academy will be on break and most of us will be returning to provide conference security, there was a question on what to do about elite classes."

He paused.

An electric jolt of anticipation shot down the line.

"After much discussion, we've decided to continue classes in our Kingdom. We'll use the gardinel training facilities."

A wild burst of excitement raced around the room.

Alex let out a low whistle and Cam muttered something about karma.

I couldn't believe it. In the history of elementals, no one had ever witnessed gardinel training.

"Prince Belicoux made this decision," Garreth continued. "I trust all of you understand the enormity of this arrangement."

The unspoken words were clear.

Tristan had risked a lot and we needed to show his faith in us wasn't misguided.

Not only was he opening his kingdom to outsiders for the first time, but he was also bringing elites to work with gardinel trainees.

As the first ondine in the chevalier program, I was used to a certain level of scrutiny. But I suddenly wondered if this was such a good idea.

The Elemental conference was already aflame with political and social tensions.

Maybe we were simply adding more fuel to the fire.

***

This couldn't be happening.

Horrified, I stared at the words flickering across the television screen.

"They're ending the show?"

The commercial advertised an upcoming special recapping thirty-five years of
Restless Passions
. The series' final episode would air in May.

Nexa lit a cigarette. Long hair fell against her back like a silver waterfall.

"Things must always come to an end."

"Yeah, but..." I turned to her. "What about Marisol's baby? And who killed Raj? What about Natalie's twin?"
 

She poured another drink. "Maybe we'll find out. Maybe the lack of answers itself is a type of answer."

Only she could turn a soap opera into an existentialist question.

Nexa's cottage on the western bluff of Haverleau was messier than I'd ever seen it. It reinforced my long-held suspicion that no one bothered to clean besides me.

"It just seems so sudden." I carried crumpled snack bags and an empty scotch bottle to a makeshift trash and recycling bin. "Because of ratings?"

"According to the message boards, the producers and writers wanted to move on to other projects."

I wasn't quite sure what the appropriate response should be when your indeterminately old magic mentor told you she hung out on a soap opera message board.

Pushing aside tendrils of smoke, I returned to my seat.

"Ending a successful show seems like a waste."

"Maybe ending it is a way for something new to emerge." Periwinkle eyes peered at me from a wizened face. "One door leads to another."

Her words faintly reminded me of a dream I once had.

"Tomorrow is an important day."

"Yes." Nerves pinched my stomach. "Tell me about the Original Magic trial."

My grandmother had undergone the process fifty-five years ago. I'd asked her about it during our meeting this morning, but she refused to go into specifics.

I researched it in New York, but only found vague explanations.

All I knew was I'd face Original Magic one-on-one and it'd determine whether I could lead elementals.

"Original Magic doesn't care that you're the
sondaleur
," she explained. "It also doesn't care about your age, family heritage, or magic."

"So how does the trial work? How does it judge me fit?"

"You must tell the truth." She swirled the amber liquid in her glass. The sweet scent of alcohol wafted through the air. "It'll ask questions and you must not lie. It'll know if you're not being honest."

"That's it?" Mild relief flowed. "No crazy physical tasks or completing some kind of quest or slaying a monster?"

Nexa stared. "You must tell the truth."

Wariness rose at the look in her eyes. "To what kind of questions?"

"It differs with each individual."

"So if I don't answer truthfully —"

"You die."

Well. No pressure or anything.

"Might've been nice if someone told me that a few weeks ago."

"You are ready." She nodded, as if answering some unspoken question. "You seem well."

Surprised, I caught the glint of warmth in her periwinkle eyes. Today was the first time I'd seen her since leaving for New York over a month ago.

An odd emotion crept into my throat and I realized it felt pretty good to see her, too. Even if she was out of her mind.

"Did you enjoy New York?"

"Yeah."

"Did you have fun with Julian?"

I blinked. "What?"

"He took you around the city?" She exhaled a ring of smoke. "The museum? Poetry readings? Concerts?"