Crest (Ondine Quartet Book 3) (19 page)

Nausea swelled. "Did it happen in Lyondale?"

He shook his head. "Didn't even board her flight. She and her gardinel were killed on the way to the private airfield in New Orleans. Bodies were found late last night."

"Fujio headed the investigation in New York. He should know about this —"

"He already does. He insisted the bodies be sent to Lyondale for examination and is working with Garreth."

That's why Ewan and the other gardinels weren't at the dorms this morning.

Tristan leaned against my car, his eyes serious. "They found an iris."

Weary sadness pressed against my chest. "Does Julian know?"

"He went to speak with his mother."

Killing the relative of my biggest political opposition after what she'd said yesterday revealed a lot about the person I hunted.

A crocodile lies hidden in your world.

Smart and extremely dangerous.

Tristan crossed his arms. "Kendra, I can put someone with —"

"I'll be fine."

Resources shouldn't be wasted on me. Too many others needed it.

For a moment, something flickered through his eyes. It was gone before I could identify it.

"Okay," he said abruptly. "What are you doing out here anyway?"

"I was on my way to see Gilroy."

The Manhattan Lieutenant may be gone, but we weren't completely in the dark.

Someone in Haverleau had inside knowledge on Aquidae. Gilroy had worked for them for years before we managed to get his conniving ass behind bars.

I needed to know how the Shadow operated. Following his trail might help me figure out his end-game.

"I have to meet the Governor. Come on, I'll take you over."

Tristan dropped me off at the Justice Department and I headed to the holding cells in the basement.

Randolph, the chevalier on-duty, sat behind the counter at the entrance. He watched a video on the laptop propped against his legs.

"Did he cheat on her?" a voice called from down the hall.

Randolph snorted. "She said he was cheating on her with her sister-in-law. And shut up. You're not supposed to be listening."

Two women clawed at each other then knocked over a table.

"Educational entertainment?"

Randolph shrugged. "My current obsession. You here to see our nix?"

I nodded.

"Good." He picked up a set of keys. "I can watch my show in silence."

I followed him down a long row of Essence-infused silver bars to the large cell at the very end. Randolph quickly let me in and hurried back to his show.

Gilroy sat on the bed at the back of the cell, knees pulled up to his chest. Limp blonde hair hung around his weasely face.

"Well, well. We meet again."

"What do you want?"

"I just want to talk." I studied his shapeless head of hair. "Hair gel not included in the amenities?"

He scowled. "Go away. You reneged on our deal."

Oh, please.

"You tried to screw me over on information I was willing to pay for —"

"You blocked all my accounts!"

"You sold us out to Aquidae and then tried to double-cross them and sell to us."

"I gave you information about that auction." His lip curled. "And you got your little kiddies back. We're even. Now let me go, like you promised."

"We promised we wouldn't let Aquidae get to you. You remember them. Those crazy demons you work for."

Fear briefly flickered over his face. "I don't just work for them."

That was true. The sleazy ass would sell his own mother if he could.

"They knew about my arrival in Haverleau, didn't they?"

Shrewd eyes studied me. "Don't know what you're talking about."

"Cut the bull, Gilroy." I leaned against the wall. "You knew about me the moment I arrived in Haverleau. What did they make you do? Keep track of me? Of who I was hanging out with?"

He swiped a greasy lock of hair off his forehead. "I only did what they paid me to do."

He made it sound like that excused everything.

"Then you should have no problems drawing up a list of every single thing Aquidae have ever asked you to do.
 
And I mean everything."

He smirked. "Oh yeah? What makes you think I'll do it?"

I peeked out the cell. Randolph's attention was glued to his laptop.

"Do you know what I did yesterday?"

I casually removed my dagger and played with it.

Gilroy's eyes nervously tracked every movement. He shifted away from me.

Smiling, I sat beside him and pressed the dagger tip against his knee, just enough to pierce his pants fabric.

"I went through the confirmation trial with Original Magic," I continued cheerfully. "You're looking at the new Governor-elect."

Gilroy's eyes widened, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

"
Sondaleur
and Governor-elect." I leaned forward, pushing the point of my blade a bit deeper. "Do you know what I could do to make you talk? I'm here to end this war. How far do you think I'd go to get that done?"

I eyed him with my "You Don't Want To See Me Off The Chain" face.

He paled in a very satisfactory way. "W—what if I can't remember everything?"

I stood. "Start remembering. Because every day you're going to share a bit more about your wonderful past with Randolph. And you're going to keep doing it until you remember every pathetic thing you've ever done for Aquidae."

He swallowed. "Then you'll let me go?"

I banged on the cell door. "I'll consider it."

Randolph let me out and I spent a few minutes explaining what I needed him to do.

He crossed his arms. "What's in it for me?"

"I thought chevaliers were supposed to do these things. You know line of duty, soldiers of justice. That kind of stuff."

"Only for orders from our commanding officer or the Governor."

"Come on." I gestured to myself. "Governor-elect. This is legit."

Sort of.

He frowned. "Yeah, but you're still in school and not an inducted chevalier."

I raised my brow. "That's the best argument you got?"

He shrugged. "Gilroy's really annoying."

Yeah, he was. Damn.

I sighed. "Fine. What do you want?"

"Eclairs. From Cafe Rivière."

"You better be worth it."

The corner of his mouth slightly lifted. "Never had any complaints."

I laughed and headed out to the governing complex courtyard. The sky had slightly cleared, but the air remained humid and suffocating, laced with the oppressive scent of metal and moisture.

I mentally shook myself. Gilroy's nervousness had rubbed off.

A Royal Gardinel waited for me beside a government sedan. "Prince Belicoux asked me to take you back to the Academy."

I climbed into the car. "Where is he?"

"I believe he's still in a meeting with the Governor,
sondaleur
."

On the ride back, I turned over what Gilroy said. Or rather, what he didn't say.

Gilroy had excellent technology skills. If the Shadow used him frequently, it meant he'd spent a long time gathering information.

A shudder raced down my spine and the foreboding that haunted me all day grew.

I exited the car and hurried across the Quad. A cold, drizzly rain finally began to fall, coloring the campus in a dismal grey.

Why had the Shadow waited so long to come after me?

Aquidae knew about me before I was even aware of any kind of prophecy. They'd called me the
sondaleur
and had tracked me down on my seventeenth birthday.

The lobby of the ondine dorm was still empty. Gardinels hadn't returned.

I slowly trudged up the east stairwell.

If he knew where I was, why did the Shadow wait until I turned seventeen before making a move? Why wait until I was stronger, surrounded by resources and the protection of Haverleau?

Unless that's what he wanted.

Apprehension tingled. I opened the door to my room and froze.

Something was wrong.

Silence crawled under my skin. Virtue snapped to life and carefully listened.

A vague taint brushed against me as if something had spoiled the air.

Drapes fluttered.

An icy mix of fear and anxiety trickled down my spine.

I'd left the window closed.

No one is behind there.

Mouth dried and palms turned sweaty. I gripped my blade and padded across the room.

Left hand reached out and whipped back the material.

Window was open a fraction of an inch.

Another breeze wafted in, carrying the damp scent of wintry rain.

Room was three floors up, but several wedges along the dorm exterior made for easy foot rests. I'd snuck back after curfew enough times to know it was possible.

Balancing on the balls of my feet, I slowly pivoted. Eyes took in the ceiling, the desk, the position of the bed.

Nothing out of place.

But there was something new on my dresser.

It was perfectly placed.

Cloudy light bathed the curve of the iris petal.

Choking foreboding grew. I approached, pulse thundering in my ears.

A smear of black blood.

My phone buzzed beside it. I'd forgotten to take it with me.

Everything moved slowly as if in a dream.

Shaky hands picked up and dialed voicemail.

World blended into a surreal backdrop. All that existed were the iris' taunting beauty and the voice coming over the phone.

"Kendra, it's Daniel. I'm very sorry to tell you this by message. But you asked to be notified as soon as possible and we have a situation here..."

I didn't hear much after that.

A crash and roar. Words about official time of death and Gabe's anguish.

Right hand gripped my dagger. Left wrapped tight around the phone.

Patter of rain matched the fists of grief pounding my heart.

MARCELLA'S FUNERAL WAS ON VALENTINE'S Day.

It was the kind of unexpected mild day that briefly flared to life for a few hours, providing a teasing promise of the spring to come.

She was everywhere. In the crackling air, the sparkling azure waters, and the splash of bright sky cutting through days of wintry grey.

Everything was so pristine and pretty, I wasn't sure how much longer I could keep from throwing up.

I stood next to Rhian a few feet from the shoreline. A quiet solemnity imbued this stretch of coast behind the Royal Gardens.

The number of attendees surprised me. Marcella had been a huge part of the community. One of the many things I hadn't known about her.

Chloe, Aub, Ian, and a few faculty and staff from Lumière showed up. Amber Blanchard, who interned with my aunt, stood near Chloe, eyes wide and complexion pale.

Marcella's students weren't there. After what happened with the Aquidae trafficking ring, the funeral of their teacher proved to be too much.

Except for one.

Nanette Desmarais, face tight with grief, held her granddaughter's hand. Charisse, one of the kidnapped children, stood straight and tall, eyes serious, tiny chin jutting out as if trying to look older than her age.

I searched the crowd, hoping to lock eyes with the person most needed today.

My heart sank. He wasn't here.

Her body lay on an unadorned bamboo raft. Four chevaliers, including Julian, held the left. Four gardinels - Tristan, Ewan, Adrian, and Garreth - carried the right.

The men brought her across the sand, the whisper of bare branches and lapping cries of water the only sounds shifting the air.

They carefully placed the raft at the water's edge. Even in the frozen grip of death, body thin and ravaged by the disappearance of her life essence, Marcella was strikingly beautiful.

Raven hair spread behind her like a thick cloak. Delicate features remained so serene, I almost expected eyes to open and a smile to emerge at any moment.

An ondine's mate should send her off. But since he wasn't here, it was a representative of the family.

Gardinels and chevaliers lined respectfully in two rows. Rhian walked between them, her gait slow. Tristan's eyes, darkened with concern, followed her.

For a long moment, the iron Governor stared at her daughter.

Sharp lines sculpted her profile into an unreadable expression, the mask of someone long in power who'd seen enough death to last several lifetimes.

She reached out and gently smoothed a strand of hair off Marcella's forehead.

Her hand trembled.

I concentrated on breathing around the lump clogging my throat. More than anything, I wanted to wrap my arms around me and ease the pain gnawing in the pit of my stomach.

But everyone was watching, waiting to see what the Governor-elect would do. And like my grandmother, I knew there was no other choice but to hold it in.

Rhian straightened. Gently, carefully, she arranged her daughter's hands on her stomach and tucked a white rose from Marcella's garden between them.

A luminous ivory glow bloomed beneath the ocean's surface as if each molecules lit up one at a time.

Dessondines had arrived to return Marcella home.

The gardinels and chevaliers pushed the raft into the water. The smooth tide rocked in an eternal lullaby, slowly drawing it away from shore.

It took no more than a few minutes for the first translucent arm to stretch out of the water. Pale webbed hands curved and knobby fingers gripped the side of the raft.

And then another. Another.

Eight pairs of arms now held my aunt.

The process was so gradual it almost seemed like a trick of the eye.

Her feet sank first. Water then enveloped the tops of her thighs, the flat plane of her stomach. The raven locks and fine-boned face.

Last to disappear was the garden rose embraced by her folded hands.

Magic's glow faded. Nothing was left but the occasional sparkle of light atop the calm waters.

The ocean swallowed her.

A day and a half since she'd passed and a few minutes to say an empty good-bye under a nauseatingly perfect sky.

So little time, yet everything was different. The world was different.

Marcella was nowhere in it.