Page 28 of A Storm in Every Heart (Enchanted Legacies #2)

“Calm down, Kas,” Jett says, looking sideways at me.

“Fuck you.”

He laughs. “You really need to lighten up. You and Ashwater both are always wound so tight, it can’t be healthy.”

“I pray I live to see the day you find your soul-bond, and we’ll see how loose you are then.”

He startles, and his dark eyes widen so all the whites are visible. “Holy shit, is that what this is about? Is Dessa your bond?”

I stiffen. Fuck. I hadn’t even realized what I’d said.

I run a hand through my hair, sighing. “No, she’s not. That’s not what I meant. I just meant that you’ll be less calm when you find yours, that’s all.”

He raises a skeptical eyebrow at me. “Are you sure? Because, judging by whatever the fuck you’re doing right now—” he waves a hand toward me “—I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“I’m sure.”

“But—”

“I already found my bond,” I say flatly, just to put an end to the questioning.

Jett’s eyes widen. He doesn’t bother to ask me who or where she is, because it’s obvious. If I’ve already found my bond and she’s not with me, then she’s most likely dead. Or, at least, far out of reach.

“You never told me that.” Jett gapes at me. “Does Ashwater know?”

I shake my head. “It’s not something I like talking about—for obvious reasons.”

He refuses to take the hint and asks, “When was it?”

Deep breath in…

“Decades ago. Before Dyaspora.”

Deep breath out…

Jett rides in stunned silence for a minute, looking uncharacteristically somber. “Sorry, mate,” he says finally. “That’s awful.”

“Yes,” I say sharply. “It is.”

As if awakened by my mention of it, the bond in my chest flares to life, throbbing painfully.

Absentmindedly, I reach up and rub my chest where my tattoo sits beneath my shirt over my heart. I only ever made one serious attempt to track down my bond mate after escaping Dyaspora, and the tattoo is the result—though not the result I expected.

Many of my memories from before Dyaspora have faded entirely or become fuzzy over the years, but I still vividly recall waking up on a rocky beach with only the vaguest memories of the night before and the unmistakable feeling of a new bond pulsing in my chest.

After over a hundred years, the feeling of the incomplete bond isn’t something I often think about.

I know it’s there in an abstract way and if I focus, I can feel it—like how if I think about it, I can feel my own heartbeat.

Now, it burns slightly, as if reminding me that it’s there. I wince and try to ignore it.

“So I’m just saying Odessa is not my bond, if anything, whatever this is—” I wave my hand around like he did “—is because she’s a siren.”

Jett’s expression is skeptical. “I suppose.”

“Do you notice the siren magic?”

“From Dessa?”

“No, from all the other sirens we know,” I snap. “Yeah, obviously from Dessa.”

He thinks about it for a moment, and my pulse beats erratically as I hold my breath waiting for his response. I already regret asking, and know that no matter what he says I’m not going to like it.

“Not really,” he says finally. “Maybe when we first met I noticed, but not anymore.”

I grunt in something like agreement. I suppose that’s the best answer I could have hoped for.

“Granted, she’s never tried to use it on me,” Jett continues, seemingly thinking out loud. “I wouldn’t say no if she tried, but?—”

“Alright, I get it,” I cut him off irritably.

That answer wasn’t helpful at all, and I’m annoyed with myself for asking.

We continue on horseback, the rhythmic clopping of hooves echoing through the quiet woods. It’s a long trek—more than an hour to reach the nearest train station—but at last, a faint glow appears on the horizon, and I know we’re nearing the village.

I can’t get the idea out of my head that something is wrong. Probably, the train has already left and is halfway to the port by now.

It would be far faster to fly…

I roll my shoulders and shove that insane thought from my mind.

“Hang on!” Jett says abruptly.

I startle and pull back hard on my reins. “What is it?”

He doesn’t answer, just slows his own horse and leaps off, hitting the mossy forest ground before the beast has come to a complete stop.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I demand.

Jett darts off into the trees, returning a moment later leading a chestnut mare by the blue and gold braided bridle.

I glance down at my own blue reins and my heart sinks. “Is that one of our horses?”

Jett nods. “Looks like it. If Dessa and the emissary rode to the train, I assume they’d leave their horses with some of the guards to bring back to the estate. If this one is wandering around alone not far from the station…”

He doesn’t finish his thought, but I fill it in on my own. If the horse is wandering around alone, then either they never made it to the train station or something happened to the guards.

With my heart pounding out of control, I dig my heels in and gallop toward the village.

Though one loose horse isn’t exactly proof of a catastrophe, I can’t get it out of my head that something happened to Odessa. I feel it—a bone-deep ache that I’m sure means something is wrong.

That feeling is made all the worse when we reach the station and I leap from my horse, breath coming out in quick pants.

The enormous red steam engine is still here, its doors open wide and faint smoke still coming from its exhaust pipes. The station building itself looks abandoned; no ticket master at his window, no shouting porters, not even a stray dog skulking in the corner.

Jett and I exchange a meaningful glance, and he puts his hand on the knife in his belt as we sprint toward the train.

I don’t even bother reaching for my own weapon. My blood is pounding, and at the moment I’m sure I could tear someone’s head off with my bare hands.

Inside the train is chaos.

I run down the thin aisle, cataloging everything without really processing what I’m seeing. Broken glass, carts and luggage overturned, doors to compartments hanging open.

“Kas!” Jett shouts behind me.

My heart jumps into my throat, and I spin, finding him bent down in the entrance to one of the compartments.

Beside him is the dead body of a dark-haired man—a conductor, by the look of his uniform—sprawled face-down in a pool of black-red blood soaking into the carpet.

His cap lies several feet away as though knocked off during a struggle.

Rage roils in my gut—not for this man’s death specifically, but that this happened at all. “I’m going to look for Odessa.”

“Wait,” Jett says, “slow down.”

“Don’t fucking start?—”

“I care about Dessa too, but just look at this for a second.” He gestures toward the man’s pockets, which are turned out. “Whoever did this was obviously after money or valuables.”

“What makes you say that?” I ask through gritted teeth, anger and impatience making my stomach churn.

He stands up and pokes his head into another open compartment. “The compartments all show obvious signs of hasty looting: drawers yanked out, brass fixtures missing.”

“Why the fuck would anyone take the fixtures?”

Jett laughs hollowly. “When you say shit like that you’re advertising that you’ve never been poor.”

I bare my teeth. “I was in Dyaspora just like you.”

“Yeah, but before I mean. It’s obvious you never had to steal to eat, because if you did, you’d know that brass can be melted down and sold.”

I shake my head. This is a fucking waste of time. “Fine. So it was bandits; that doesn’t make me feel better. I need to look for Dessa.”

He nods. “Of course, but I don’t think she’s going to be here.”

“Why?” I demand, pulse pounding.

“If whoever did this was just trying to make quick money, they won’t have gone out of their way to kill anyone.”

“Tell that to him,” I growl, gesturing to the dead conductor with my foot.

“He worked for the train, so he probably tried to stop them,” Jett says calmly. “The guards would have tried to stop them too, so I’m guessing they’re dead. That’s why we found the horse wandering around alone.”

“Get to the point,” I growl.

“My point is thieves wouldn’t have killed random bystanders. Too messy. Odessa isn’t the type to pick a fight, and she’s not stupid. If she was here when this happened she probably ran away.”

My pulse slows the smallest fraction, but I still feel like I’m struggling to breathe. “I’m going to look anyway.”

“Of course. You search this side of the train and I’ll go the other way.”

I nod curtly and walk away from him, peering into compartments as I pass.

I’m relieved that Jett’s assessment seems to be right. Most of the compartments have been ransacked for anything valuable, but I don’t see many bodies.

I’m starting to calm down—thinking it might be better to search the woods around the station—when I stop short. My heart leaps into my throat, and my vision seems to tunnel in on itself.

At one end of the carriage, a door hangs off its hinges, and a pool of blood seeps out into the corridor. Lying in the pool is a short, balding man dressed in the bright green colors of the Hydrattan court.

“Jett!” I yell over my shoulder, then rush over to the body. I flip him over just to be sure.

The blank eyes of the Hydrattan emissary stare up at me, unseeing.

Heart pounding and panic surging through my veins, I fling the emissary aside and propel myself into the compartment behind him. I frantically scan the space—Odessa is nowhere to be found—but that does nothing to calm me down. Where the fuck is she?

“Fuck,” Jett says behind me, letting out a low whistle. “Someone stabbed him.”

I turn back around and find Jett pressing a palm to the emissary’s forehead. “He’s not completely cold yet. This only happened a few hours ago, I think.”

“He didn’t seem like the type to fight bandits,” I say, unable to keep the anger out of my voice.

Jett nods in agreement. “And their compartment isn’t ransacked, look.”

I don’t have to look—I already noticed that the compartment where Elio and Odessa must have sat still has all its brass fixtures.