Rise Against: A Foundling novel (The Foundling Series) Page 22

  “But you wish you could reach out to others.” Her fiancé, her parents, her job. “I get it.”

  “No.” She hesitated before continuing. “I just made peace with having a clean slate. I liked the idea of starting over from scratch. A new me. This makes that impossible.”

  “Ditching your old life wasn’t your choice, but I’m not sure if it’s healthy to be glad about it. It’s not like you. You’re rooted in family, in your community, in … ” What she hadn’t said dawned on me a beat too late, and I got it. “I’m sorry I cost you all those things.”

  “You and I are past that.” She waved a hand. “All I meant was I’m starting to get a foothold on who I am with Portia, and Rixton showing up makes me look back instead of forward.”

  Miller wandered over, but Maggie slipped into the room after Rixton before Miller reached us.

  “I didn’t mean to run her off.” He frowned at her quick exit then studied me. “You look upset.”

  Since she didn’t say either way, I figured it probably had more to do with all the looking back she had just mentioned, which included her ex-fiancé, than wanting to give us privacy. But I wasn’t about to tell Miller that. Not when he already looked slighted by her avoidance.

  “I could use an ice-cold Coca-Cola.” I indicated the door. “Walk to the vending machine with me?”

  Nice place like this, I doubted there was one. More like a mini mart secreted behind the front desk.

  After the day I’d had so far, I wanted cold and caffeinated, and I wasn’t picky about where I got it.

  I used the walk to explain Wu’s confession, minus the complication of having a second mate, and it made so much sense in hindsight I felt like an idiot.

  Thom had verified Wu’s scent around my window weeks ago, called it layered and old. Learning that didn’t surprise me. I was under constant surveillance from the coterie, the NSB, and the locals. What was one more thing? But even the phone Wu gave me, the way he left the cell tucked under the base of that stupid rotary phone, should have tipped me off. And that was before I noticed the ringtone he had chosen for me.

  It’s like he was trying, in his subtle way, to push me toward connecting the dots on my own. But he hadn’t sounded happy to come clean, so maybe it was his subconscious at work. Maybe he wanted me to know, and on some level, he couldn’t stop dropping hints. Maybe he wanted the fight, wanted the anger, that came from discovery versus the stunned silence that came after confession.

  “Do you want me to kill him?” Miller asked when I finished. “I wouldn’t mind.”

  “Thanks.” I leaned my head on his shoulder as we walked. “You’re a real friend.”

  “How do you feel knowing you’re more human than you thought you were yesterday?”

  “Good. Weird. Sad.” I shook my head. “I’m a walking corpse.”

  “You’re not Death.” He chuckled. “The child might have been dead when Conquest possessed her — for lack of a better word — but that little girl was brought back to life. Otherwise, Conquest would have found herself trapped in the body of a ten-year-old.” At my look, he shrugged. “Dead things don’t grow, don’t change. Most don’t maintain. They begin to deteriorate. You’re not dead. You’re very much alive.”

  A hard breath punched out of me and left me lightheaded. “It’s not that I object to being charun.” I straightened, combing my fingers through my hair. “I love you guys. I feel like myself when I’m with you, like I belong.”

  “But you were raised human by a human father, and it feels good to have an anchor within yourself to that upbringing and those people.” He touched my arm. “I understand. The coterie won’t hold it against you.”

  “Santiago will,” I grumped.

  “Santiago holds the rising of the sun against the moon.” Miller smiled. “Ignore him. Attention only whets his appetite for more. He’ll act out until he gets what he wants or gets bored trying.”

  “How is he not toddling around in diapers? Honestly?” Miller’s bark of laughter felt good, and I grinned at him. “On the topic of men acting out — what’s up with you and Rixton?”

  “No one outside the coterie has touched Maggie or Portia since their transition. Have you noticed that? I didn’t realize it until Rixton had his arms around her the first time. The instinct to claim her almost got the better of me.”

  Setting aside the claiming remark, I smiled. “I’m glad it didn’t. Rixton is human, and they break easily.”

  Admitting that was beyond weird. So far beyond, I couldn’t see the shape of the words on my horizon.

  “She’s not mine. That’s what stopped me. Not kindness, rationality, or consideration.”

  Nerves fluttering in my belly, I had to ask, “Do you want her to be?”

  He hesitated. “I’m not sure. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want her.”

  “Miller … stop me if this is too personal, but have you ever?” I rolled my hand. “You know?”

  “Had sex?” His lips twitched. “Yes, but it requires a lack of control I’m no longer allowed to experience.”

  Or he would wipe out life on this planet as we knew it, strangle it in his ever-expanding coils. He was an ouroboros, a selfdevouring serpent, and he would keep eating until he devoured everything.

  “Well, lucky for you there are other benefits to being in a relationship that don’t require … that.”

  A delicate flush pinked his cheeks, and he cleared his throat. “Are we hitting the campaign trail again after you’ve recovered?”

  “Ugh.” That was the last thing I wanted to talk about, let alone do, but I respected his redirection. “We have no choice. Armies don’t raise themselves, apparently.”

  “Luce.”

  My head shot up, and my heart rate was quick to match it. “Santiago?”

  “The Malakhim,” he panted. “They’re converging on Canton.”

  “Shit.” I advanced on him. “Where?”

  Genuine regret filled his eyes when he said, “The police station.”

  Gut churning faster than my feet, I sprinted upstairs and shoved inside the suite.

  “Fuck. Shit. Damn it.” I shoved open the door to find everyone had gone to their own rooms. “Cole.”

  “I don’t know how I feel about my name being the last in that string of obscenities.” He read my expression, and his hardened. “What’s happened?”

  “The Malakhim are in Canton.” I gripped his arm, tugging him toward the window that shouldn’t open but Miller had modified for our winged coterie members. “They’re heading for the police station. We have to move.”

  “All right.” He cast a look over his shoulder at the rest of the coterie. “Grab Wu. Meet us there.”

  “Tell Rixton,” I called to Maggie. “Make sure he suits up before he leaves this building.”

  Maggie caved to Portia, and she gave me a tight nod. “I’ll get him prepped and ready. He can ride with me.”

  Out of time for instructions, pleas, or prayers, I watched Cole fall out the window, twist midair as his body expanded to suit his dragon. And then I took a leap of faith.

  There was nothing left of the Canton Police Department by the time we arrived. Santiago’s warning had come too late. The building was a smoking husk garishly illuminated by the flashing lights mounted on firetrucks dousing the sated inferno.

  Cole set down a few blocks away, and I hit the pavement, running full speed before he shifted and caught me.

  Heart clogging my throat, I burst through the police line being held by two officers and fisted one’s shirt. “What the hell happened here?”

  “Gas leak. One of the old timers lit up in the breakroom, and the whole place went up.” The rookie didn’t fight me, and shock was to thank for that. It’s not like I had a badge to whip out these days. “We don’t have numbers yet.” He swallowed hard. “There were no survivors.”

  The fight drained out of me, and I released him to do his job, tempted to help, to fall into old patterns, stand shoulder t
o shoulder with the uniforms. But it wasn’t my place, not when it was my fault. These people have been targeted because of me. I had no right to stand beside the survivors and grieve.

  Rixton arrived fifteen minutes later and flipped the switch from friend to cop between the long strides that ate up the distance to the first responders. He talked to each officer present, shook hands with the firemen, nodded at the grim words murmured by the paramedics. When he had done all he could do, all anyone could do, he joined me where I sat in a puddle of muddy ash.

  “Sherry is going to Haven,” he said softly.

  Numb, I forced myself to focus. “She agreed?”

  “No, she fought like a wildcat.” He surveyed the damage. “I don’t give a damn. I don’t care if I have to toss her over my shoulder like a bag of the world’s sexiest potatoes and carry her there on foot. She’s going, and so is the baby.” The hand he wiped down his face left black streaks. “Who do we make pay for this?” He cut me a look. “And don’t give me the bullshit answer this was your fault. You didn’t do this.”

  “Ezra.”

  The mental war I fought to separate the man I thought I had known all those years and the real Ezra caused my emotions and temper to fray. My Ezra didn’t exist. He never had. He was a figment of my imagination, dreamed up by Wu. Considering his relationship with his father, I couldn’t begin to fathom why he had chosen that name to give me when I asked for his. Maybe the name was a bullet, and Wu had loaded his weapon with it in the hopes its aim would be true.

  “Then we find him,” Rixton said, “and we put him down.”

  There was no arguing with that tone, and it soured my stomach. As grateful as I was to have him with me, I wished he had never forgiven me. “Are you ready to walk away from your family knowing you might never see them again?”

  Head down, he stared at the swirl of charred particles mixing with hose water. “As long as Ezra is out there, every time I leave my house I’m risking never seeing my family again.”

  “You could go to Haven too.” I had to put it out there, had to make a final push. “You would all be safe.”

  “For how long?” He flicked the water with his fingertips. “I’m not stupid, Luce. I can see you’re on an end run. I’m not thrilled about it, but I get it. I’ve never been one of those cops who dreams of going out in the line of duty. I want to fall asleep after a night of making love to my wife, probably with the aid of pharmaceuticals at that age, and never wake up. That’s my fantasy death.” He smirked. “Not many of us get to live out our fantasies.”

  “Okay.” I wiped my hands but only stained them worse. “I’ll stop fighting you on this. You want in, you’re in.” That didn’t mean I wouldn’t ask Miller to stick to him like white on rice. “You need to go home, get your family packed. Wu will meet you there and take you to Haven and get them settled. He’ll bring you wherever the coterie is when you’re done.”

  “Are you sure this reasonable act isn’t a trick? You’re not still trying to ditch me?”

  “I’m tempted.” I wouldn’t lie about that. “But you’d just get yourself killed if I don’t keep an eye on you.”

  “How does it feel?” He stood then offered me a hand up. “The role reversal?”

  “I’m not training you.” I thought about it, frowned. “Guess I am sort of training you. I don’t like it much. I prefer the days when I came to you with my questions. Your answers didn’t always make sense, and there was that one time you came to work dressed as a banana, but you did your best.”

  “That’s the first rule of leadership,” he commiserated. “Trying to foist responsibility onto another person. See, kid? You’ve got this in the bag.”

  From the corner of my eye, I spotted Wu standing apart from the crowd, the wash of red lights painting his face crimson. I pointed him out to Rixton and set that ball rolling.

  “We’ll make him pay for this.” Miller looped an arm around my shoulders, and I leaned against him, soaking up the coterie bond. “I swear it.”

  Because he was Miller, and I could ask him without shame, I did. “Where’s Cole?”

  “He’s going to offer to fly the Rixtons to Haven. If the missus is resistant to that idea, then he’s going to provide cover for them while Wu drives her minivan.” He squeezed my shoulder. “We’ll get them there safely.”

  “Too bad Haven isn’t big enough for everyone.” Sorrow burned through my chest, a slow ache that poisoned. “I would put them all in a bubble if I could.”

  The town, the human race, the world. I wasn’t sure what I meant, but I trusted Miller to understand.

  “No bubble is large enough to contain them all.” Thom stepped up to my side. “We’ll just have to make the world safe enough no bubbles are needed.” A frown marred his forehead. “Except for those catnip bubbles you sometimes blow for me. Those will always be appreciated.”

  Making a mental note to buy another bottle of them, I pulled away from Miller to kiss Thom on the cheek. There was a simple happiness in being around him that made me understand why Conquest was a crazy cat lady. He was the most feline of the coterie, and his purrs soothed better than a cup of chamomile tea.

  “Santiago?” I didn’t see him in the crowd. “Portia?”

  “He’s in a vehicle heading this way. Portia is driving while he monitors the Malakhim situation.” Miller waved to an unfamiliar face and guided me in that direction. “They’ll be here soon.”

  We trudged through the muck to greet a thin male with a receding hairline who managed to look happy in spite of our circumstances. It was awe, I knew, from beholding Conquest. But that made me dislike him on principle. I couldn’t stomach his smile against the backdrop of wailing voices, police radios, and sirens.

  “Mistress, it’s a pleasure to meet you at last.” His bony knees quivered, threatening to buckle. “I heard you were rallying your supporters, and I wish to add my clan’s might to your numbers.”

  “Thank you.” I forced out a polite tone. “You can start by tracking the Malakhim who did this.”

  “We have eyes on them.” He bobbed his head. “We didn’t realize their intent here until it was too late.”

  Hearing he tried bumped him up in my estimation. “I doubt anyone could have anticipated this.”

  As the words left my mouth, Thom looked at me, nodded. He wanted me to take them to heart, to accept and believe I was blameless. Clever kitty. I couldn’t very well dispute my advice while the guy I was attempting to soothe stood an arm’s length away.

  “Misha.” A short female in a powder-blue jumpsuit burst through the wall of milling people, aiming straight for us. “They’re on the move.” Her panted breaths worked on the zipper covering her ample breasts, each inhale forcing it down a few clicks until I saw she was naked beneath the thin jacket. That, or she went braless, a dangerous proposition for a female of her cup size. “They’re heading toward the outskirts of town.”

  Ice slicked my spine. “Which way?”

  “Northeast.” She cocked her head, listening to something beyond my hearing. “There are a few older homes in the area, all with large tracts of land.” Her eyes widened. “There’s a commune of some kind.”

  “The farmhouse.” I rubbed my eyes, smearing soot like war paint over my face. “The Malakhim are going after the enclave.” I looked to Miller and Thom. “Ezra punished me, and now it’s Wu’s turn.”

  “We have a clan of thirty in the area,” the female said. “They’re tracking the Malakhim with orders to engage if they assume battle formation. Human lives will be protected at all costs.”

  Now I was the one smiling wide, standing out. This was music to my ears. A clan of charun who valued human life, who wanted to join me because our views aligned.

  “Cole and Wu have their hands full.” I paced between my coterie and the others. “Santiago and Portia won’t arrive for a bit. There’s only the three of us. We’re it.” I slid a glance toward our new allies. “And you, of course.”

  “We understan
d coterie is family to you.” Wonder shone through the male’s voice, and it hit me. The root of his awe wasn’t in meeting Conquest. It was in meeting me. The abnormality masquerading as cadre. “It’s only right that you would prefer to have them at your back. We’re unknowns, and we must prove our loyalty to you. Let us begin that process now. Come. We will lead you to the Malakhim.”

  “I know the way.”

  It was time to go home.

  I had no concept of how the title of host applied to the Malakhim until I beheld their formation from the ground. Looking up, the sky was clotted with winged humanoid figures, most dressed in white, with varying shades of golden blond hair and luminous blue eyes. Weapons strapped to backs, swords clutched in hands, quivers rattling with arsenals of arrows.

  I felt small, insignificant, overshadowed by the aerial army come to return my first real home and Wu’s family to dust.

  But more than that, I felt pissed. And a pissed-off female defending her home was mightier than the sword, or so I had to believe.

  “How far to the farmhouse?” Miller crept through the underbrush beside me. “We’re almost to the head of the host.”

  “Ten minutes.” I calculated the distance by the bend of a familiar pine. “We’re not going to beat them.”

  “No.” He kept pushing himself, harder, faster. “We won’t.”

  Thom, used to playing scout, shifted into his cat form. After I threatened to collar and leash him to keep him close, he elected to jump onto my shoulders and curl around my neck, securing himself with his claws. The message was clear: You want me to stick close, you’ve got to carry me.

  Thanks to the extra weight — Thom and I seriously needed to chat about how many mice he was eating — I was panting hard and tasting blood in the back of my throat when we hit the edge of the rolling lawn leading to the farmhouse.

  Heartbeat pounding in my ears, I soaked in the picturesque setting. The old clapboard house we really should have painted a few years back, the gleam from the new bay window, the lighter boards alternating weathered ones where the porch had been rebuilt.

  I absorbed every detail, committed it to memory, a snapshot in my head, and before I could tell my childhood goodbye, they were upon us.