Chapter Three
Rogue
“ T his was a complete waste of our time,” I hiss, jabbing a finger at Delta.
After she dragged us hours away to a town I’ve never been to before, this entire endeavor was for nothing. It’s clear Delta knows as much, and I’d like some answers.
She stands by, watching her team, who are busy packing up the SUV they came in. Only one or two are familiar, and I find it strange that she swaps out who she works with so often.
Ember, Gemma, and I are always together for cases, but it’s not unusual for Delta to have new teammates with her, depending on the job.
I nod at my sister.
Gemma grabs Delta, dragging her away from her team. “We’d like some answers.”
The witch glares, narrowing her eyes. “The information was good. There’s every possibility they made us.”
Gemma slowly teases a shadow toward the combative witch. It’s so transparent, anyone who wasn’t paying close attention would miss it. It brushes against the back of Delta’s ankle, and Gemma’s head tilts.
She’s able to pick up someone’s deepest, darkest fears with a simple brush of a shadow over their skin.
She can use that knowledge to torment and amplify their suffering, to induce nightmares, or even lock someone in a mental prison of her making.
While it’s all rather grim, she has to nourish her magic, otherwise it’s like if I don’t eat for days.
It wouldn’t kill me, but I would grow weaker over time.
“Why did you really drag us away from Haven?” Gemma asks in a no-nonsense tone.
My sister is easily amused and playful by nature. Her personality is pretty much in direct opposition to her magic, which is a lot like her biological father, Malice.
“I had a lead,” Delta bites out, spinning until she faces Gemma. “How dare you try to use your magic on me!”
“It’s always best if you’re honest. Things go more smoothly that way. I’m the last person you want to distrust you,” Gemma says, shrugging. “You’re trying to shield something from me.”
Delta scoffs. “Tell your sister to talk to the boss. You really think the two of you would be my first choice for backup?”
My teeth grind as I pick up on what she’s insinuating. Owen wasn’t messing around when he said he was going to pull us off The Plague Doctor’s case. Now he’s trying to find bullshit excuses to keep us busy elsewhere.
“Delta, you ready?” Agnes calls from near the vehicle they rode in. She’s one of the core members of Delta’s team, at least one of the few I’m used to seeing on a regular basis.
The witch in question nods and calls out, “I’m coming.” She jogs off while my head pounds.
My stomach starts to churn as my chest gets so tight it’s difficult to breathe.
“That’s not the vision face.” Gemma siphons to stand directly in front of me and offers her forearms for support. “Is it? What’s wrong?”
As I shake my head, the feelings intensify, though I’m not pulled into a vision. All the symptoms of what I experience before one are here, but nothing manifests.
“Something is wrong, but I don’t know what,” I whisper, still feeling like I might vomit.
The overwhelming urge to return to the human club to check on Ember hits me out of nowhere, but it’s strong. I’ve learned it’s best not to ignore those gut feelings. Even if I can’t catch a snapshot of what’s happening, I’m afraid it’s not good.
Gemma siphons us back to the club we were originally supposed to meet Ember at to search for Ethan Sanders.
I’m still so unsettled that it’s a good thing we land in the women’s bathroom. Twisting, I barely make it to the toilet in time to lose my dinner.
“Okay, you do that. I’m going to check around for Ember.” Gemma pats my back and disappears.
I can’t see her, but I can sense the change in the energy that occurs when she siphons. My hand falls against the wall as I continue to heave.
I’ve been siphoning with Gemma since I was a toddler. It never makes me physically ill like this, but visions do, and combined with the unwell feeling I’ve had since the parking lot, it’s all too much.
Once I’m finally done being sick, I pull open the stall door and stagger out to rinse my mouth. I’m just finishing cleaning up when Gemma appears behind me.
“She’s not here. Her car isn’t in the parking lot.” Her head shakes. “Do you think we should call Owen and ask for backup?”
After the shit he just pulled?
“Hell no.”
No way.
He wants us off this case. Asking for help would be a great excuse for him to assign another team to “assist us.”
Pulling out my phone, I try Ember multiple times.
My anxiety ratchets higher with each unanswered call.
Anxious thoughts spin through my mind, and my hands shake.
Did I make a mistake when I let her in on what Ethan Sanders said in my vision? Possibly, but keeping things from a teammate is never the right call.
I thought Gemma and I would be here with her if she got any bright ideas about sniffing around The North American Pack Lands.
“Can you siphon to Haven and check her house?” I ask Gemma. “Veryn’s house too. Maybe she went home?”
“Yeah, that sounds exactly like something Ember would do.” Gemma snorts. “Don’t leave this bathroom. I’ll be back in two minutes.”
Though I nod, I doubt she sees it, because she’s already in the process of turning to smoke. My hands itch from holding my phone for so long, so I give up on Ember and call the one person I can count on to back us up.
I’m pretty sure Veryn is at work, but he answers on the third ring.
“Rogue?” he growls. “What’s wrong?” He has every right to be concerned. Everyone knows I only call if I have no other choice. “ Rogue? ”
God, he sounds super pissed. He’s going to be really angry when I admit I have an idea where Ember is.
“Gemma and I were supposed to meet Ember at a human club for our case, but we got called away to help another team.” I swallow thickly. “I told her to take the night off, but she was already almost here. Gemma and I finished up and came to check on her… She’s nowhere to be found.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” the dragon snarls. “Get to the point.”
“I have a bad feeling, and my gut says I know where she is…”
Veryn is probably going to rampage his way through the shifter settlement if Ember doesn’t answer one of our calls before he arrives. I tried to calm him down by assuring him that Gemma and I would head to pack lands as soon as she gets back to the club, but it didn’t help at all.
I promised Gemma I would wait in the bathroom, and I’m going to have to break my word.
We need more information.
I’m still wobbly as I stumble down the hallway and onto the packed dance floor.
If I can get a vision of what happened, maybe that will help confirm if Ember truly went to investigate the North American Pack. If not, maybe I can ascertain that, too, because if she’s not there, we don’t want to waste time checking in the wrong place.
Edging around the bar, I keep close to the wall to avoid all the bodies and to help keep myself upright. The itchy pulse of electricity under my skin is a symptom of an oncoming vision, but I’ve never had it last so long without slipping into a memory or glimpse of the future.
As I slide my hand over the hideous wooden paneling, my entire body jolts.
The edges of my vision distort, and even the scent changes slightly. It no longer smells like stale beer and sweat. Okay, it definitely still does, but I also pick up hints of a delicious manly cologne. It’s one of those expensive ones with hints of bergamot and citrus.
Low murmuring comes from somewhere on my right, and my head whips in that direction to see what’s happening.
That was an awful plan.
My stomach rolls violently, and I clench my eyes closed for a second while I attempt to recalibrate my senses.
By the time I open them, everything is clearer, and I no longer feel like I’m viewing the scene through water.
Ember sits on a barstool, reaching into her pocket for something. There’s a man with pointy ears seated next to her. He has his hair in two braids that mesh into a bun at the crown of his head and dual rings in one nostril. He grabs Ember’s hand as she moves to stand.
Oh, fuck.
Did Ember get kidnapped all because Gemma and I weren’t here when we said we would be?
She climbs back onto her stool, staring at the man. They lean closer together while they speak, and the hair on the back of my neck stands up.
How the hell does she know him?
We tend to know the same people.
This is so bad.
If I pull my hand off the wall, I might never be able to find my way back into the memory, but if I don’t try to get closer, I’ll never be able to hear what they’re discussing.
The man has to be elven or fae, based on the pointy ears alone, and I don’t like the way Ember seems almost…entranced by him.
My hand turns ice cold, and a violent shiver racks its way down my spine.
My gaze flies to the wall, but I stagger back when I spot the man directly in front of me. His back rests against the wall as he watches the bar exactly where Ember and the stranger are sitting.
He’s leaning with his feet crossed in front of him and his shoulders against the paneling of the wall, but even in his scrunched position, it’s clear he’s extremely tall. His long arms hang at his sides, and my gaze travels down to his fingers.
He’s also a supernatural in a human bar.
There’s no doubt in my mind.
Humans don’t have runes and sigils lining every inch of visible skin, like this guy has from his fingers, up his arms, and even the sides of his neck are covered. Not that I can see much with that shaggy black curly hair that hangs nearly to his shoulders.
His jaw falls, and a light scoffing sound fills the air.
I swivel my head, following his line of sight.
The man Ember is talking to stands, running his fingers over her wrist, but I can’t see exactly what’s happening, because he blocks most of my view.
“I didn’t see that coming,” the man leaning against the wall says.
I turn back to study him.
Initially, I couldn’t decide if he was in the memory or just a bystander in the bar. I’ve had weird instances where I could see people in my visions who were actually spillover from the real world.
It’s confusing.
I don’t know how else to explain it, but they would be visible with me in the vision or memory, and yet they never left the plane I was on when I slipped into the vision.
However, it’s clear that’s not what’s happening here. He was here when Ember spoke to that other man.
I glance back at Ember, but she’s alone and staring at the spot the man she was with was in. Her eyes are huge, and though she seems confused, she’s unharmed.
I’m also confused.
Who is he?
What happened to her after she left the bar?
Why isn’t she here now?
Did she leave to search after him?
My vision goes hazy, and my stomach churns. I close my eyes, breathing through the discomfort.
That doesn’t help, so I pull my free hand to my stomach.
Several long seconds pass, and I expect to be free of the memory, but that same cool shiver runs down my spine as I open my eyes.
The man who was leaning against the wall now stands facing me.
His hand is in the same place as mine on the paneling, and it’s like he’s a mirage.
Where his arm passes through mine, it’s nearly transparent.
It almost looks like our fingers are interlocked, and all the air seems to evaporate from my lungs.
My eyes fly up to meet his.
His head tilts, and I swear it feels like he can sense me. If he’s part of this memory, there’s no way that should be possible.
My fingers go from ice cold to sizzling, and I gasp but don’t pull my hand away. If I do, I’ll lose this replay of events forever, and I still have no idea what’s going on.
The man’s shaggy black hair falls around his face as he licks his lips. The heat in my hand amps up to almost a burning under my skin, and my gaze moves to see if I’m actually on fire.
The man’s hand shimmers as it moves through mine, and I can already tell before I glance around the room that the vision is gone.
As it turns out, the man is, too, meaning he was definitely here at the same time Ember was.
It wasn’t a particularly helpful memory, but I know Ember met with someone.
Now to get myself back to the bathroom in case I hurl. I’d also love to avoid a lecture from my sister, if possible.