The Bonded (19 page)

After I recognize my frenzy is utterly useless, I focus and center myself for strategy, withdrawing from Caedmon, the bar, and the waers. My last sight is Percy, wild with concentrated rage, preparing for battle as three waers stalk in. Lingering remnants of blood distract my thoughts, but I push deep into my mind, searching for a way out. I can see the electrical charge that gives life to my pounding heart and move toward it with determination, but faintly, in the distance, a static sound rolls in. It reminds me of my old AM radio that could never receive a transmission. The signal amplifies and dissipates without any articulate message getting through, yet I knew it is there as broken words filter through, splintered from the crackle, giving me just enough to vaguely understand the intent. I hear the tone, the emotion… It’s Percy! She’s speaking to me through my mind without words, but with feelings. Somehow, I know that she feels a deadly resolve to protect me
and
is willing to die in the process. I pull back from the startling new revelation with frightened urgency and return, finding that electric pulse sparking within me. When it ignites, I grab it and move it into my body, letting it flow unregulated as it builds with intensity.

With energy crackling through my veins, my eyes creak open, allowing shards of voltage to jump through them and disappear into the air. One of the waers catches the freak show and stands dumbfounded as a person sleepwalking doesn’t know if he is awake or dreaming. He inches his sinewy finger directly toward me and screams for Caedmon to watch out. I guess Caedmon takes his warning under advisement as he squeezes the air from my lungs in retaliation. I feel a tad nauseous, tiny droplets of cold sweat beading on my forehead, when the lights begin to flicker and buzz with electricity. The crowd becomes distracted by this new predicament, and Percy gains an extra second or two to live. My breathing is so rapid and shallow that I can hardly concentrate on fighting, much less feel the pain Caedmon is inflicting. The buzz of current swells like a beautiful crescendo, becoming the only sound my ears permit entry when a fuse explodes and the power goes out.

My own personal current is surging through me, looking for a weakness or opening to escape. I feel its ambition and attempt to maintain a semblance of control, though I am certainly beyond it. As the generators roar into life, electric bolts jump into me from unused electrical receptacles and my inner reservoir draws them in to feed and grow. My blood is hyper-charged, racing and building. The power presses me from the inside out until it is stifled from lack of space. The pressure is becoming too much to contain, so I look to my new enemies for respite and find the entire room, friend and foe, in a openmouthed stare—directed at me. In that moment, I notice blue arcs of electricity sizzling and humming from speakers, lights, and whatever else is charged, reaching into me. My teeth chatter with lightning and my clothes smoke with heat. Thin lines of blue appear, then disappear, burning their image into our retinas, and we all blink in unison, readjusting our vision. Caedmon, in prideful rebellion, refuses to let go, snaking his python arms around me with more strength as my ribs crack to accommodate him. The pain is sharp, demanding a primal and wild reaction. Without a thought, I release the pent-up energy in a cry of relief.

The humming of current is so loud my ears fall deaf. I watch as silent screams, warning Caedmon to let go, are received as empty and useless. His arms suddenly spasm with pulsating shocks as the energy breaks through my skin, surrounding me and giving Caedmon a free lesson of the importance of grounding wires. In a flash, he flies to the nearest wall, cracking wood with his thick head, and lays dazed from the shock. I guess the waers find me yesterday’s news as they scurry in mild panic to stomp out small fires that are quickly maturing due to stray bolts of lightning, which run hotter than the sun.

I’m grateful for the release, but the energy still circulates wildly. Caedmon wearily stands in an effort to ascertain this new development. His hands cover his ears to shield them from some noise that I’m not privy to, when I notice the sting of tears pooled in my eyes and an earsplitting scream fleeing my mouth. The situation is lost and I’m baking from the inside out when Percy launches from the corner and tackles me. We roll and tumble off the stage, crashing through tables and chairs to stop near the back.

With a sigh of relief, I crumple, exhausted from the strain as the energy somehow drains from me. It leaves me with no will nor strength to fight, let alone walk out of here, so she places her gentle hand on my chest, comforting me, and turns to the chaos as waers evacuate to escape the raging inferno. Caedmon gives us a death look and shifts his gaze toward Quilici, finding Nora and Reuben thrown to the side as he stands with tempered wrath on his mind. Nora and Reuben right themselves before landing and look to Caedmon for direction as charred wooden rafters fall, giving in to the flames. This creates another desperately needed distraction, and Quilici doesn’t hesitate to utilize the gift to his advantage, running through the flames as they lick his arms and singe his body hair. He arrives with no greeting, lifting me with a single hand and tossing me over his right shoulder as he turns to Caedmon for one final look.

The room is nearly empty as Quilici says, “You will pay for this with your life, Caedmon!” He shifts his focus to Nora and Reuben, finishing. “And if I discover your involvement, you will share his fate!” With a solid wall of fire trenched to separate us from them, Quilici kicks down the door and it explodes from the power, giving us safe passage through the rear entrance. As we leave, I can hear the bellowed howls roll and echo through the dead streets of Frederick proper.

Chapter 11

In phases I hear familiar sounds of fire trucks, a car engine revving to life, short pieces of dialogue, and then the world starts to make sense again as lucidity crawls into my mind. I struggle to sit up, my body depleted of all its precious reserves. I fall back to the leather seat, bumping my head on the door on the way down. My vision is now sharp as Percy peaks her head out from the front passenger seat and says, “He is awake.”

I respond by walking my fingers up the back of her chair and clawing the headrest, pulling myself into an upright position. As I sit up, a tiny self-congratulatory smile escapes and I lie back into the bench seat, pleased with my effort. I say, “You sure know how to make a guest feel welcome, Quilici.”

That remark gets a well-deserved giggle from Percy as she is now used to it, but is not received well by him. I can’t win them all.

He ignores the remark. “You will have to forgive my lack of humor this evening, Adriel. I was not prepared to reveal what has been kept secret for so long, and because of it, I have lost more than you could possibly imagine. Please know that I do not blame you or Percy, as she has informed me of your situation last evening.” Percy turns her head in embarrassment as if she betrayed me by giving away what was personal.

I feel the guilt emanate from her and want her freed from it, so I say, “Percy, you did the right thing. He has to know and there must be honesty and transparency between
all
of us if we are going to make it through this alive.” I emphasize “all” and eyeball Quilici for good measure.

She lifts her head with a silent thank-you-for-understanding look and he continues. “We are almost there.” Quilici points out the window with his head and I follow his lead as the rain pelts the SUV with soft drops of water, rather than the stinging, smaller version that seems to be more popular here. The waves smoothly slide down the window, distorting my view, but through it, I see the trees with their new buds waiting for spring to arrive. Although the position is different, I recognize the area. Quilici must have a home on Braddock Mountain, overlooking the valley where a quaint upscale town nestles between this range and another. He promptly turns left into a steeply descending gravel driveway, crunching his way down a winding trail for half a mile until we arrive at his house.

This area was once the summer home spot for Frederick’s wealthy with a tram system connecting the two, but with the dawn of affordable automobiles, some of them decided to make it their full-time living quarters. Through the years, the old homes simply remained and were renovated to accommodate the fluctuating trends of culture and the technological advances as well. Now it has old-world charm with the modern conveniences, and most importantly, a view worth killing for. I let the last thought linger and wonder if that is indeed how Quilici managed to acquire this beautiful residence.

The SUV comes to a halt and I hear the whiz of seatbelts returning to their compartments and doors unlocking automatically, giving a strong hint that the ride is over and I should get out. I’m still lethargic from earlier, but manage to ease my way through the door and walk to the cobblestoned path that meanders to the front door. The door is appropriately large with dark-stained wood and brass doorknobs that are aged from years of neglect, but somehow fit into the contemporary décor. Quilici fumbles for his keys with his enormous hands and claws, eventually unlocking the door and walking through without having to duck. Bright ambient lighting and soothing brown and yellow colors greet us, accompanied by leather furniture that exudes masculinity, yet nothing too aggressive, which would have contrasted too harshly with the classical music lightly filling the room with serene melodies.

It’s an awkward juxtaposition—having the previous pack leader of the waers bloodied and burned in the kitchen brewing a fresh cup of dark-roasted coffee with Dvorak in the background. I listlessly nose my way into the living room to discover gigantic floor-to-ceiling windows that literally stretch wall to wall with a panoramic view that extends for miles. I approach the window and see that it drops straight down; we are perched on the side of the mountain. As Quilici strolls in, I hear a shower spurt several times and then stream from a bathroom forty feet northwest of my position. It must be the guest bathroom, and Percy must be taking advantage of this safe moment, and I fight the urge to join her. Damn, this radar-like hearing is cool!

“Your feelings are obvious, Adriel,” he says as he wedges into a custom made recliner.

“What do you mean?”

He raises one eyebrow and tilts his enormous head to the side. “I understand that you can come across… foolishly at times”—(ouch)—“but I can sense your intelligence and believe you to be much more keenly aware than you let on.”

I smile. “I’ve been around long enough to know that two people don’t always think identically, so I ask questions to make certain the meaning is clear before responding. And yes, you’ve read me well, but I didn’t think it was
too
obvious. The closer we are, the thicker and more entwined our bond becomes.”

He gives me a thoughtful look and stands. “I’m going to take a shower as well. I’ll see you in a bit. I don’t have clothes that will fit you, but the washing machine is near the garage on the left. Feel free to use it if you must.” He reaches the master bedroom door and pauses. “You have no idea how unique you really are. I’ve spent most of my long life on this journey, and to actually meet one of you is truly an incredible experience. When we talk this evening, I will tell you what your mother was and in part, what you are as well.” I lose focus with the profundity of the statement and am jerked back from my deep wonderings when the door bangs to a close.

I stall a moment, unable to move or think, still depleted from whatever happened to me at the bar, and hear my ligaments snap and moan as I stand to make my way to the bedroom. I don’t know how, but I sense Percy. Not in a clear way, but I know her vicinity and vaguely understand her feelings, or more appropriately, her emotions, as she is confused about us and frightened of this endless depth we share because of a decision made decades earlier. I feel the sting of guilt that I am somehow responsible for robbing her of a life and path that would have been hers to take. So with heavy heart, I enter the dim room washed with soft lights from lamps resting on eclectic furniture. It’s warm with tranquility as his house is a continuous flow of escapism from the restlessness of feedings, wars, and politics. I sit on the bed, thankful for a moment to be alone with her with no pressing matter to attend to.

Steam is sneaking under the bathroom door and I hear the knob click and turn as it opens without a sound. Percy stands with wet hair and towel wrapped around her voluptuous body, revealing long legs and supple shoulders.
Control, Adriel, control.

She says with silky tones, “I know you, Adriel, from the inside. I sense your sorrows, that you blame yourself for our relationship. You actually hurt for me.” She diffidently walks over to the bed and sits very close to me, strumming her fingers through my hair. “I do not regret making that decision so many years ago. We are both strong and relish in our individuality, but this… thing between us reels us to each other in ways that break our barriers and reveal privacies. It is the permanence and vulnerability that I cower from. It will take acclimation, for both of us, but please don’t think that I hold remorse. I gave myself to you and will give more. What we have is strange and terrifying, but it is real.”

“Is it? Or are we just some contrived result of a love potion? I want what we have to be genuine and that can only be achieved through choice.” Our eyes meet in a tender moment and she slides her hand down my cheek to my hand, cupping it in gentleness.

“I made that choice, and even though you were a child, I knew there was something there. Through the years, I have looked back and questioned my reasoning. Was it done in impulse or out of compassion? But since we have reunited, I know it was right and there was always something beyond the Vinculum. I chose who you would become and perhaps who we would become together.”

“I get it, but my heart aches for you regardless.”

“And
that
is further evidence of it being right. We are more than a spell, Adriel. I choose tonight to surrender without animosity or regret.” She continues with mischief and lust. “Why don’t I help you get cleaned up?”