Page 13

CHAPTER 13

CLAWDIA

“ Y ou are having visions, I hear.” I was buttering bread when Omaira spoke softly at my side.

I startled slightly but grimaced and nodded. “That’s right.”

“Because you are inheriting the power from another?” She picked up the packets of cheese, pulled out the block, and started slicing.

“Yes.”

I wasn’t sure where she was going with this, but I was interested in finding out. I was also grateful for the help with making lunch. There were lots of bodies in the house, and supernatural ones seemed to be hungrier than most.

“I know something about that. The others expect you to suddenly understand and use your power to protect us, but many of them have grown up knowing their power. It has always been part of their life, and using it has felt natural. When it comes upon you suddenly, it is not so simple.”

“No, it’s not simple.”

“It also comes with a lot of guilt.”

I looked at her surprised, and then feelings escaped my mouth in a flood. “Yes. I almost feel like I’m helping murder her by taking her power. But I’d give it back if I knew how. I don’t want this responsibility. It's horrible feeling so out of control, so powerless, and yet having the power to affect so many by doing the smallest thing.”

“I understand,” she replied quietly as she started laying cheese on bread. “I also inherited my power from another. My mother. I was unaware of her identity. She’d hidden for so long and didn’t expect to die so suddenly. Hunters murdered her, and as soon as she took her last breath, I felt all this power rush through me. I didn’t know what it was until later.”

I placed my knife down and gently touched her arm. When she looked at me with her dark almond eyes, I could see the tears shimmering in them, the trauma still present like an echo of the past. “That’s awful. You must have been so scared. How old were you?”

“I was sixteen.” She shook herself and returned to making sandwiches with a wry smile. “Older than my sisters when they gained their power, but my story is the most … dramatic.”

“You have sisters?” I asked.

She shook her head. “No biological ones. The women I call my sisters are like me. We share ancestors, and our power passes to us upon the death of a relative. There are fifty of us around the world, but five whom I claim as family.” She chuckled when she looked up to see my puzzled expression. “I can see the questions written across your face.”

“I don’t want to ask.” But I really, really did. She didn’t introduce herself to Charlie and Zaide as a particular supernatural, instead saying that information was classified.

I returned to my lunch-making task and tried to ignore the burning curiosity. Curiosity killed the cat, as the saying goes.

She sighed before straightening. “You and your bonds have done more to progress our mission than we’ve done in years. It’s personal for me, finding the hunters, so you might not appreciate what you’ve done, but I do. I’ll show you what I am.”

“Show me?—”

Omaira’s body rippled, and her image shifted as her whole body changed. One moment, she was herself, a beautiful black-haired Asian goddess, and the next, another person stood in the same spot, wearing the same clothes but couldn’t have looked more different in them. This person was blond, buxom, bursting the seams of her blouse, and looked more like a cheerleader than anyone on a supernatural task team.

For a moment, I could only stare.

Then I stuttered, “You … you’re a shapeshifter?”

“Shapeshifter, skinwalker, moon touched. All the above. But I only have twelve faces.”

“Are you descended from Mestaclocan? I thought they only shifted into animals?”

“I have both Mestaclocan and titan ancestry.”

I blinked, trying to absorb the information. “How?—”

“The story my sisters were told is about the titan goddess of the moon, Selene. She controlled the threads of sleep, but humans worshiped her as the goddess of the moon, and that gave her a kind of bond with it.”

“Kind of like familiars,” I whispered, already enamored with the story.

“Yes. People often underestimate the power of worship as a creator. It changes the essence of a being.” She shook her head, and the blond curls bounced before she continued, “Myth would tell you Selene fell in love with a shepherd. But in reality, Endymion was a wolf shifter who had been stalking herds of sheep. Even with their long life, a shifter lifespan’s does not equate to the almost immortal span of a titan, so she formed a bond with him so they could share the same lifespan.

But after the birth of their fifty children, she couldn’t bear to see them die either and asked Zeus for a way to make them immortal. He had access to a relic that granted them immortality, and so for a time, the family lived peacefully in the human realm, ruling as gods among humans.

But after the fall, they all deteriorated. Turns out immortality doesn’t truly exist. Everything dies. Everything except power. Their children, who could shift into copies of other beings, one for each face of the moon, passed, and when they did, their power was granted to the eldest of their children. I’m sure you can imagine what that did to some families.”

“Oh God,” I whispered.

She grimaced and shrugged. “And here we are.”

“Even your voice changes.”

She shook her head. “No, I have to do the voice to remind myself what face I’m wearing. Helps me get into character.”

The door swung open, and Charlie entered. Then stopped as he noticed the stranger in his kitchen. “Who the fuck is this?”

“Charlie.” I put my hands up to ward him off or calm him down. “It’s Omaira.”

Her body shimmered back to her original form. At least, I thought it was her original form. If she had twelve faces to pick from, maybe her original one was hidden, too. Food for thought.

Taking one of the now prepared sandwiches, I took a bite to hide my smile as Charlie’s jaw dropped open.

“Holy fuck.”

Omaira smiled at me. “Inheriting power isn’t fun, but I do enjoy shocking people with it.”

Charlie blinked, shook his head, probably deciding to deal with that new bit of information later, and then announced, “Fafnir’s no longer with the hunters. The hunters looking for us are distracted, and the two hunters we owe are safe as far as we know. Also, you were right. It’s an academy, and my hacker buddy is a student.”

Omaira gasped. “You’ve discovered their academy.”

“I can see the glint in your eyes, but the hunters are a project for after Fafnir’s dead.” He pointed at her in warning before taking a bite out of my sandwich and leaving a crummy kiss on my cheek. I side-eyed him as he munched.

“I can’t help with Fafnir, but I can look into the academy,” Omaira mumbled.

Isaac poked his head into the room, his gaze scanning us. “Ahh, you told them.” He laughed as Charlie and I frowned. “I can tell from the shell-shocked look on their faces. Doesn’t it feel good to let more people in?” he asked Omaira as he began collecting the plates of sandwiches to take them into the living room. “She’s still a work in progress. Our little misfit is a badass, but she’s still warming up to people.”

“Misfit?” Charlie asked as we followed him.

It was Omaira who answered. “There are lots of people in this realm who are a mix of magic, interlinked dimension power, or otherworlder bloods that have diluted.”

“Whose council do they fall under?” he asked.

“Faei. Joseph is my council leader, and I lead my small classified task force.”

He pulled me back onto his lap on the loveseat as he asked, “Why do you have no faei in your team?”

“Although Joseph is very involved in the council, his people are the most isolated from the supernatural community. There are many low-born faei here. However, they are unruly and uninterested in the discipline needed for this kind of role, and high faei think they are too good for hard work.

“I don’t know the difference between high faei and low faei. Do you?” he whispered, and I shook my head.

Omaira explained, “Low faei are beings like trolls, goblins, pixies, redcaps, brownies, selkies, mermaids, and sirens. There are many kinds. High faei are more human in appearance, but with pointed ears and wings. Like your friend.”

It felt like something Daithi should have told us, but I supposed there wasn’t often time for us to sit down and talk about the realms and the magical beings that occupied them.

Charlie sighed and leaned back as I handed him another sandwich. His own this time. “I’m feeling well educated on the realms today. Calls for lunch before we get to spells and dark magic.”

After lunch, Charlie waltzed off to Winnie’s house to look at dark magic, but I stayed and waited for Zaide and Baelen to come back. I also didn’t want to see Charlie and Lydia in the same room together. My mind conjured images of them laughing over potions and hands brushing as they handed each other ingredients.

When Zaide returned, sweaty and breathing hard, it was a welcome distraction. A very welcome distraction. He kissed my forehead, intending to head to the shower, but I stood from the sofa.

“Little Cat?” he asked as I grasped his finger and pulled him up the stairs.

“Don’t question it, my love.”

He chuckled softly as we entered the bathroom. “We won’t fit in that bath, Little Cat. Sit here and wait for a moment.”

He placed me on the toilet facing the shower, and I eyed the cubical. “We could fit in the shower.”

“No, we can’t,” he chuckled as he undressed, and my gaze roamed everywhere my hands wanted to touch. When he started the water, I bit my lip at the sight of his backside.

“I suppose I’ll just have to watch, then.” His arms flexed as he rolled his long braid into a bundle on his head.

He chuckled again. “Don’t pout, Little Cat. You can do whatever you wish with me once I’ve washed the sweat off.”

“I like the sweat.” I crossed my arms.

As steam filled the room, my head felt heavy, and I frowned when Zaide’s golden body blurred. My body tilted, and I felt a flash of pain before darkness claimed me.

It was dark, but the sound of a pained whimper set my hair on end, and I shivered. I was standing, so I turned to the sound, disoriented and confused since I was just in the bathroom with Zaide. But even in the dark, I could tell I wasn’t in the bathroom anymore. I wasn’t in Charlie’s house. I was having a vision.

Past, present, or future. Look for the threads… What am I looking at?

But before I could attempt to find the threads, a bright light flashed into existence above me, and I flinched, pressing my eyes closed. When I blinked them open and my eyes adjusted, I saw the bald bulb hanging low in the room and a room covered in dark brown splotches. Blood coated the walls and cement floor. And in the middle, a woman quivered.

My heartbeat took off like a bird’s wings as I crouched near her. She was beaten and so bloody I couldn’t see a patch of unbroken skin. Flayed didn’t seem to cover the extent of her injuries.

With the light on, she seemed even more distressed, whimpering and flinching as though expecting the person who had hurt her. Bile rose in my mouth, and I shook with my anger and fear.

Who did this to her? Why? Why am I being shown this? Who is she?

I looked around the room for more clues but couldn’t even find the door. The room was empty of everything except a bowl full of waste. I was grateful my vision dulled my senses. The smell must have been nauseating.

Turning back to the woman, I tried to use my powers to see her threads. To heal her. But I couldn’t touch her, I couldn’t see her threads, and I couldn’t heal her, which only made me more afraid for her.

I was cold and clammy when the wall moved and revealed Fafnir.

Of course. But why her? Who is she? Is this the past? Is she a previous wife?

I’d only met Lucia, the wife before me, and I didn’t think to find out what his other wives looked like. If she’s a wife, then I already know how this is going to go, but why would I need to see it? What is it trying to reveal?

“Have you had some time to think about the questions I asked?” Fafnir asked casually as he walked into the room.

I scrambled away from him as he picked the woman up by her matted hair and glared into her face. I couldn’t see if she was looking at him, but she cried out and clawed at his hands. He shook her roughly, and I bit my lip.

I hate this. I hate this. I don’t want to see this.

But I kept my eyes open. I had to learn something here, even if seeing this man attacking this woman reopened the scars on my soul.

“She is having visions.” It was whispered through cracked lips and a broken jaw, but I heard it clearly.

Who?

Fafnir dropped her to the floor, sneering, and kicked at the woman. “Your disloyalty to your people is sickening.”

“She is … not a witch.”

“Ah, and I suppose that means something to you. Witches against the world. That’s how it has always been. Other supernaturals are not to be interacted with. Is that right?”

I didn’t understand what was happening, but it was clear he’d completely lost all his composure. He was mad. Crazed.

Perhaps this isn’t a wife. Perhaps this is a witch from more recent times. Perhaps she is someone who has had the misfortune to meet him after losing his dragon.

He squeezed her face in his hands and continued to stare at her with a clenched jaw and heaving breath.

“No. Please.” She flailed in his grip, and my whole body shook with the need to do something. To stop him. To hide. But I remained frozen and watching.

His smile was slow and cruel. “You beg, but you will not survive this. Your actions will only decide whether you die fast or whether your suffering is drawn out. You’ve already once chosen a slow suffering, but I thought you’d learned your lesson. I see that is not the case.”

The witch wailed, and she gripped his shirt as though he was her savior. “Please. I'll tell you.”

“Tell me, then. Enough with the crying.”

“Will not work. If they die, she dies. You won’t … hurt her with their deaths.”

“If they die, she dies. And the other way around?”

“Yes.”

“Interesting.”

“She knows your actions … because she is having visions of the future. You cannot know when she is watching.”

Me. She’s telling him about me. She’s given him our only advantage, and I still didn’t know who she was. A task team witch?

I leaned around to try to recognize the features of her face, but it was so swollen I couldn’t tell if she was human.

She’s been tortured. You can’t blame her for trying to survive or end the suffering.

Fafnir’s body turned stiff mid motion, and he turned his head toward the witch like a puppet. “What did you say?”

“Visions. Powerful. She knows … your plans.”

He let out a roar with his fists clenched so tight and punched the wall, launching his hand into the plaster and sending mess everywhere. I tried not to flinch.

The witch dragged herself away and curled up into a tight protective ball against the wall. Her whimpers were the only sound for a moment until the plaster cracked again, throwing more dust into the air, when Fafnir pulled back his now bloody hand.

His eyes scanned the room with a kind of mania that sent shivers down my spine. “Are you here now, Margaret? Are you watching me even now?”

Hearing my old name was like being doused in freezing water. Suddenly, I was her again, just an innocent girl unable to understand why someone wanted to hurt her so much, and I clenched my hands so tightly that I pierced my skin with my nails, the pain offering only a small distraction.

“Where are you? If you want to watch me, Margaret, why don’t you come in person? I promise not to hurt you … at first. We have a lot to catch up on, after all. You probably have a lot of questions.”

He roamed around the room, searching, his footsteps so loud and heavy. It echoed in my ears like the bang of a drum. I pinched my eyes closed when he approached the wall where I was standing, invisible. He couldn’t hurt me. Logically, I knew that.

Yet I couldn’t help holding my breath when he hesitated in front of me. Blood dripped from his knuckles onto the floor only millimeters from my leg, and when I looked up at him, my heart stopped, because for a moment, I could have sworn he met my eyes.

I let out a sigh and gripped my chest to slow my heart and breathing when his eyes narrowed in another direction and he continued his slow predatory roam around the room.

“Don’t you think you should be punished for killing my dragon? Do you know how hard I worked to free that beast from my body? How much I had to sacrifice?”

“But you don’t care, do you? You’re just like all the others trying to stop me. And once I kill you, I’ll find another way to fulfill my goals because there’s one thing I have that you don’t. Resilience. No matter what life hands me, I take it. But you, you were nothing more than a coward who killed herself the first moment she feared for her life. Even my other wives had more bravery, submitting to their fate, to me. And now you hide from me.”

“I’m not hiding.” My voice warbled, but since he wasn’t able to hear that, I continued to stand tall, locking my knees so they didn’t shake. “I’m right here, but you can’t see me because I’m more powerful than you.”

He leaned down to the witch again and pulled her up by her hair, his lips close to her hair when he said, “You’re going to tell me everything you know about Clawdia and her mates, everything about your leaders, and then I’m going to kill you. It’s up to you how fast I do that.”

Despite my attempt at bravery, his threat to the witch made my eyes blur with tears. I wanted to help her, but I knew, at that moment, there was nothing I could do.

Calm down. He can’t hurt you here. Look for the threads. You need to know if this is past, present, or future.

I concentrated, blocking out the scene in front of me as much as I could while shaking with fear, and searched for the threads of the vision itself.

There’s still a chance to save her if it’s the future. But if it’s the past…

Like a television with a blurry picture, the threads appeared, and they were gold. It’s the future. We can save her… Then they flickered to silver, then back to gold. What does that mean? It can’t be the future and the present at the same time…

Can it?

Breathing hard, I jolted as I came to, my body cold and my mind stuttering from the shock and fear.

I’m safe. He’s gone. It was a vision, and he wasn’t really in front of me.

But he took that witch for information on me and my mates.

“Zaide,” I croaked.

“Little Cat, what happened? Was it a vision?” He was still wet from the shower and cradling me whilst completely naked. A moment ago, I would have appreciated that, but now it felt like everything had changed.

“Fafnir took one of the task team members. She told him about my visions. He’s going to kill her.”