Page 15

Chapter fifteen

O delle took a sip of her redeye and grimaced. The beverage was more Nora’s speed, but even after a solid ten hours of sleep, Odelle was exhausted. Nothing less than six shots of espresso was going to make her sound chipper on the afternoon’s broadcast.

Still, as a makeup artist caked powder on her nose and a sound technician hooked a microphone to the back of her dress, Odelle’s spirit lifted. The hustle and bustle of the station around her filled her veins with an energetic buzzing. Even though she had only been away from work for the two days of the weekend, she felt like she had been missing this for weeks. The familiarity of it all made being chased by Shadow creatures and stranded in the snow seem farfetched, like something that happened to somebody else. Being back in her element allowed her to polish her hardened confidence back into a shining armor, buffing out the scratches left by the weekend’s failures.

As Odelle scanned through the stories she would be covering, her task reminded her that the fight against the Shadow was still very much a part of her life. She squinted at the different headlines, seeing if any of them caught her eye, but she only found typical stories on thefts, small apartment fires, and a local election. In a city as big as Chicago, any subtle undercurrents of evil would be difficult to spot.

Odelle finally sat behind the wide desk and shot a smile at Paul, her co-anchor for the broadcast .

“Do anything exciting this weekend?” he asked as he straightened his papers.

“Too exciting,” Odelle admitted with a chuckle.

“Hot date?” Paul asked with a knowing look.

“You could say that,” Odelle admitted.

“What did you guys get up to?” he asked.

“Camping.”

“In February?”

Odelle laughed, “Yeah, he’s an odd one.”

“Now I’m extra glad I stayed inside with my family, even if my daughter insists on playing with a toy that plays animal noises nonstop.”

Odelle was saved from the conversation by the call for quiet on set. As she was cued in, she fell into her rhythm blessedly easily. Doing something she knew she was good at brought her more comfort than she cared to admit. After a weekend of failures, it was reassuring to be reminded of her competence.

The feeling of being on solid ground once more only lasted a few minutes. News of a homicide played on the teleprompter.

“A couple was found dead in their Lincoln Park home on Saturday. Police suspect that they were killed during a robbery, as a valuable antique was found to be missing from their extensive collection. The victims have been identified as Don and Margaret Whitehall…”

Odelle didn’t realize she had trailed off until Paul cleared his throat next to her. She jumped but had lost her place.

“Don Whitehall’s neck appears to have been broken in the attack, but the cause of death for Margaret Whitehall has not yet been determined.” Paul took over for her and Odelle snapped her mouth shut, trying not to show her shock to the camera. “Police have not yet identified any suspects, and the investigation is ongoing. ”

“And now for sports,” Odelle jumped back in, managing to pull her nerves together. If her hands gripped the edge of the desk a little tighter than usual, only Paul could see that. Even as she managed to finish the broadcast without any more hiccups, her mind kept wandering. Of course, she knew Mr. Whitehall had been killed, but she had been too busy worrying about survival to think about how that would be handled by police. But Mrs. Whitehall—had Thad killed her in the fight?

Odelle continued to fret even as she stripped off her sound equipment. She needed to visit Thad and get answers about what happened after she and Antony jumped out the window. Odelle was on a bus to the park before her brain caught up with her body. Thankfully, she was conscious enough of what she was doing to focus on the Sanctuary as she stepped into the portal.

Odelle found Thad in the first place she checked, bustling around Antony’s bed. Her heart sunk at the sight of Antony lying unconscious, just as she had left him the night before. Thad’s warm smile at the sight of her eased her anxiety, though.

“It’s good to see you all in one piece,” Thad greeted as he ushered her into the room, pulling up a stool at Antony’s bedside.

“I wish we were both in one piece,” she admitted as she took a seat, taking in Antony’s slack face. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but it seemed like a little more color warmed his cheeks than before.

Thad sighed. “It doesn’t make it better, but this is hardly the first time Antony has done this…or the hundredth if we’re being honest. All that power and he still manages to push past his limits more often than the rest of us. Even before the Defeat, when using the Light became more dangerous, this wasn’t an uncommon sight.”

“Why?” Odelle frowned. “With all his centuries of experience, you’d think he’d be more careful. ”

“That’s what I say!” Thad threw his hands up in exasperation, even though the fondness didn’t leave his face. “Antony jumps headfirst into any project, even if it knocks him on his ass—always as if he has something to prove.”

Antony’s words from the hot spring played in Odelle’s mind. The dejected way he had talked about his visions of peace, the guilt in his voice as he admitted to being the only surviving Smith. Perhaps he was trying to prove something, if only to himself.

In the following silence, she remembered why she had come.

“Thad,” she spoke up, “What happened at the Whitehall’s after we jumped out the window?”

“I saw some Shadows follow you,” Thad admitted, “but I was a little preoccupied with another group of them. I dealt with them as quickly as I could, and then tried to follow, but it didn’t do much good with you in a car and me on foot. Assuming you’d tried to escape to the Sanctuary, I went there, but you were gone. I started to worry when I found this on the ground.” Thad picked up the crown that Odelle hadn’t noticed on the bedside table. For a second, her heart fluttered in relief that it had been recovered, but Thad shook his head.

“It’s just the replica,” he explained.

“What about Mrs. Whitehall?” Odelle asked.

“She fled as soon as you and Antony left,” Thad said with a shake of his head. “I decided to follow you two instead, since you had the crown and seemed to be in trouble. When I doubled back to the Whitehall’s house to see if you had gone there, she wasn’t there either. I don’t know where she might have gone.”

“I do,” Odelle murmured looking down at her hands. “She’s dead.”

Thad let out a string of what sounded like curses in Greek .

“Wh—Who— How?” Thad attempted to ask too many questions at once.

“I just reported it on the news. She was found dead right next to her husband, cause of death unknown. They are investigating it as a double homicide but…” Odelle trailed off with a shake of her head. The weight of another death associated with their failed plan made her shoulders sag. A hand landed on her arm, and she looked up to find Thad looking sympathetic.

“You know, she was already dead by the time we got there,” Thad pointed out.

Odelle’s brow furrowed. The woman who had leaped at her with clawed hands had seemed very much alive.

“If the Shadow had that much control over her, Mrs. Whitehall wasn’t really in there anymore. The Shadow was just using her body. Who knows how long she had been that way? The Shadow must have decided it had no use for that human form anymore and cast it aside,” Thad continued. “It’s a shame. It would have been easier to track down the crown if we could look for Mrs. Whitehall, knowing it wouldn’t be far behind.”

“Probably why the Shadow ditched her,” Odelle observed.

“I guess we’re stuck with just waiting for the Shadow to give some hint of where it will strike next.”

Odelle nodded in agreement, staring at Antony’s lifeless face. She hoped his eyes were open by the next time the Shadow struck.

That day at work, Odelle scoured the news for anything unusual. She was the first to snatch up any incoming story pouring over it for even the slightest indication that the Shadow might have had a hand in it. The city, however, seemed to be quieter than usual. There was even a lull in gun violence and car accidents. It set Odelle’s teeth on edge.

As she looked for news of the Shadow, Odelle also kept an eye out for any information on the Whitehall’s murder investigation, with similar results. It was so quiet that it was as if the entire city was holding its breath, or maybe that was just her.

After she finished her broadcast for the day, she walked into the lobby to find Drew waiting for her, as Nora told her he would be. Somebody had to take Odelle to pick up her car that had been towed after her legendary sidewalk parking job during the mad dash from the Shadows. Drew, dependable as ever, had volunteered.

“Do you really hate yourself?” Odelle asked as she slid into his car. “Because I can’t seem to think of any other reason you’d volunteer to go to the impound lot.”

Drew let out a gruff chuckle. “No, I just know Nora and Adam are busy doing what they can to track down the Shadow, and this is a way I can be helpful, considering I’m not much assistance with the Shadow side of things.”

“I get that feeling,” Odelle agreed, glancing pensively at Drew as he pulled out onto the street. He was the only other person who knew about the Eteria without being a member, at least by the logic of reincarnation. If anybody would understand what she was going through, it was him.

“Drew,” she started, “Does thinking about all the Eteria does—all they are capable of—ever make you feel kind of… inadequate? ”

He shot a sideways glance at her. “Do I need to mark this day down in history as the day Odelle Zvezda wasn’t completely confident in something?”

She slapped him on the arm, and he waved her off.

“I know, I know, it’s a serious question,” he said. “But you’re normally very sure of your worth. A lot of people could learn from it, actually.”

“I still know I’m a good reporter, and I obviously got the sense of style for the family,” Odelle admitted. “It’s just that I’m not a sorcerer or a Warrior, and I don’t know where I fit in to all of this.”

Drew sighed heavily. “I do understand that. The first time Nora almost died from the Shadow’s poison, and I didn’t know how to save her, I lost my mind. I was so angry that Thad had to step in and save her using his Healing abilities.”

“And what about now?” Odelle prodded, thinking of how eager Drew had been to help when she had been kidnapped and how he continued to go out of his way to assist with Eteria business.

“Well, I thought about how ridiculous it would be to be angry at another physician I had to work with to save somebody’s life. I’m an emergency medicine doctor, and just because I have to call in a neurosurgeon or a cardiologist to help with a patient doesn’t mean I’m a bad doctor. None of us can do it alone, but that doesn’t make the things we can do any less important.”

Odelle narrowed her eyes at Drew. “When did you get so wise?”

“I have been having a good amount of deep conversations with you and your sister recently,” Drew joked. “Maybe I should start charging an hourly rate for my therapist services.”

“A therapist, a chauffeur, a physician. You’re a man of many talents,” Odelle agreed .

“Somebody has to save you from your horrendous parking jobs,” Drew agreed as they pulled into the impound lot.

Odelle spotted her little red sedan sitting in a corner and made to open the door, but Drew stopped her.

“Before you go, do these questions have anything to do with a certain Smith?”

Odelle sighed and slumped back into her seat. “Indirectly.”

“I’d say you should talk to him about it, but I know that is easier said than done.”

“Because you’re having a hard time talking to Thad about it?” Odelle asked, giving him a look that clearly conveyed she had seen plenty of their flirting.

“Something like that.” Drew rubbed at his beard. “But maybe do what I say and not what I do on this one. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised if you bring your feelings up with Antony.”

Odelle nodded and gave Drew a quick hug before getting out of the car. “Thanks Drew.”

She was three for three on people telling her to give Antony another chance to explain his rejection. He just had to wake up first.

The next several days after work, Odelle found herself sitting at Antony’s bedside. She didn’t remember deciding to do it, but each evening, her feet invariably carried her to the park and through the portal to the Sanctuary. She told herself on the first day that her concern was just what anybody would have for the person who saved them. Still, she became very comfortable in Antony’s rooms .

Often, Seraphina or Thad would join her, telling her stories of the Eteria in its prime. Not the glorious tales of battles Odelle had heard from Nora, but small adventures like accidentally discovering the hallucinogenic effects of flowers, and then the ruckus that had been caused when Antony’s pet peacock at the time had eaten some of said flowers.

One night, Odelle found herself alone in her normal seat. Her nose was buried in a book she had brought with her. Heat bloomed in her cheeks as the scene she was reading took a spicy turn. She glanced up on instinct, used to reading on public transportation and checking if anybody was watching her. Instead of a judgmental looking grandmother glaring at her from across the bus, copper curls and a calmly sleeping face greeted her.

Odelle closed the book with an audible snap. The last thing she needed was for the man in her novel to be wearing Antony’s face in her imaginings. It would invite dangerous thoughts to read a steamy novel at the bedside of the man she was clearly too interested in for her own good. Odelle didn’t want to encourage those imaginings about Antony until he could at least have a conversation with her about where they stood.

Feeling restless, Odelle pushed to her feet, pacing around the large room. She had lasted longer than Nora would have, not poking around Antony’s things too much, but today the urge to know him better combined with itching under her skin was too much to fight against. She stopped pacing to look around.

Antony’s love of purple extended beyond his clothing to his decorating, as if his identity as a Smith and the associated color had to permeate every area of his life. Not as if Odelle wouldn’t have known Antony liked to build things without the amethyst bedding and drapes. All the flat surfaces in the room were strewn with an even layer of gadgets and trinkets—or small cogs and springs that used to be part of some deconstructed items. Odelle paused by a workbench, shimmering red light catching her eye. The bench was scattered with tiny rubies, a pair of fine tweezers resting by the gold ring that was to be the gem's future home. Gingerly, she picked it up to examine. Stars decorated the gold band, an open setting in the center of each where the ruby would rest. It looked similar to the wedding band that Adam now wore on his right hand, from when he and Nora had been married in a prior life. Odelle raised an eyebrow and made a mental note to ask Antony if this ring had an intended purpose. Putting the jewelry down, she turned to survey the rest of the room.

On the wall opposite the closet stood a stately wooden wardrobe, door ajar as some fabric spilled from within. Curious, Odelle pulled it the rest of the way open to peek inside. As expected, yards of violet fabric hung, composing what Odelle assumed was Antony’s endless supply of peplos , although they didn’t really look like clothing as much as squares of material. What caught her eye was the line of gowns hanging at one end. As she rifled through them, she let out a low whistle. Gowns like this would set her back a month’s rent in the city. Dreamy blush silk draped like water from a halter neck, shimmering crystals decorated the high neck of a black chiffon grown, and peacock feathers lined a sweeping turquoise skirt that nipped in narrowly at the waist. She hoped that Pags, Antony’s pet peacock, had willingly donated his feathers to the cause.

Odelle couldn’t help the sigh of longing that slipped past her lips when she looked at the last dress. Golden laurels decorated the shoulders of crepe so white it seemed to cast its own light. Unable to help herself, she pulled the dress out of the wardrobe. Turning it, she revealed a legendary train and a back so low it made even her, with her adventurous fashion taste, blush. She held it up to herself, seeing that it looked to be the right size. She glanced over at Antony’s sleeping form before putting the dress back in the wardrobe. It was one thing to poke through his things, it was another thing to play dress up with them. Still, it was interesting to know that he had taken up sewing in his millennia in the Sanctuary. That, or his fashion taste was much more adventurous than she would have guessed. Odelle wasn’t one to judge.

Odelle settled herself on her stool once more, propping her chin on her hands. Everything in this room reinforced Antony’s character as being gentle and creative, the tender soul that had drawn Odelle in when they first met. His boundless curiosity and tendency to see beauty in utilitarian objects was all at odds with the cold way he had rejected her months ago. His words telling her she wasn’t the type of women he could be with. Words that Odelle had taken to mean that he wouldn’t consider being with somebody who wasn’t a member of the Eteria. She wanted to believe that Nora was right, that something had been lost in translation. Still, her pride shied away from pushing the issue, afraid of reopening a wound that had already scabbed over. Now she wondered if wounded pride was worse than wondering what might have been if she didn’t allow herself to be vulnerable again.

Odelle went home earlier that night, running over in her mind what she would say to Antony when he woke up, but nothing seemed quite right.