Bound by Prophecy (Descendants Series) (13 page)

I smiled. “He keeps his opinions to himself.” I hesitated, remembering his concerns. “Does Brianna have any visitors, anyone bringing her messages?”

She tilted her head up to look at me. “That’s what he thinks? That she’s got a spy on the inside?”

I shrugged. “I’m not sure what he thinks, but apparently it involves your sister knowing things.”

Her head fell back to its earlier position as she stared across the room. “That’s just Brianna. She always knows things.”

We were quiet for a while, both of us lost in thought, and Emily’s gaze fell upon my forearm where it rested on my abdomen. She reached tentatively out to touch the place my scars had been, the once-jagged knife wounds that were now smooth skin. Her index finger rose slightly as her middle finger traced delicately over the skin. Her touch was so light, so perfect as it trailed over me, it became unbearable not to touch her in return. And touching her was so wrong.

I swallowed against a dry throat, shifting slightly beneath her, and brought up the one topic that would keep me from acting. “Is Brianna well?”

Emily’s hand froze on my arm, her fingers poised birdlike above my skin, and I wondered what I’d said wrong.

“She looked a little pale earlier,” I explained. “If she isn’t feeling well, we can help.”

I felt Emily’s back ease as she released a breath. “Oh, no, she’ll be all right. It’s just, sometimes she gets like that.” She seemed to realize this wasn’t answer enough, and added, “When she’s tired.”

The topic effectively ended our discussion, and we lay silent, Emily’s hand still as it lay over my chest. And though neither of us needed to, we slept.

Chapter Sixteen

A Turn for the Worse

Breakfast was far more private. Brendan had apparently learned his lesson, and only allowed Kara and Seth to join us at the small round table beneath the skylights that surrounded the entrance to the kitchen. When Emily and Brianna arrived, Kara slid fluidly into the seat to Brendan’s left, leaving only a free chair between myself and Seth on one side and myself and Kara on the other. Brianna chose Seth’s side.

“I trust you all slept well,” Kara said, as if we were guests in her house. I pointedly did not look at Emily as she arranged the napkin in her lap, head down. “Of course,” Kara continued, “we can make other arrangements if any of you are uncomfortable.”

I realized then that she was not implying anything about us, but rather Brianna, whose eyes were shadowed more than usual. I laid a hand over hers. “Are you well, Brianna?”

Her eyes flickered just the tiniest bit, as if the pupils had constricted to pinpoints and then flashed back to normal. I narrowed my gaze on her, but she stared steadily into my eyes, and I decided the reflection of the skylights must have been playing tricks on me. “I’m fine,” she said, “only anxious for this to be over.”

“Soon,” I promised, hating the lie. No matter what happened, Brianna would be forced into a life she couldn’t want. Even if, by some miracle, we removed Morgan and Council fell back into order, the Division would come for her. She was the key to the prophecy, and she’d never rest until a path was fulfilled.

I looked up, recognizing that the table had fallen silent, and found them all staring at the two of us, a daughter of great power and second heir to the dragon’s name, my hand lying gently over hers. I had the sudden, infuriating sensation of being pushed into something I didn’t want, and I had to consciously remove the glower from my face. My hand returned to the silverware, but only as pretense.

Seth attempted small talk with Emily, failed miserably, and then moved on to repeating jokes he’d heard from Logan the night before. But Logan had a dry sense of humor, and generally delivered them in a subtle manner that Seth simply couldn’t master. After the first few fell flat, he clicked his tongue and went back to his food. This made Emily smile, though all of his efforts had not, and she finally forked up a large bite of the scrambled egg she’d been picking at.

Brendan looked, if not pleased, at least a bit less annoyed now that she’d apparently decided they were not trying to poison her. Brianna, who had yet to touch her own plate, raised her gaze to the door. It was a full six seconds later before Wesley walked through it.

As he approached Brendan’s right side, Wesley locked eyes with Brianna in an all-too-brief instant that would have meant nothing had he not immediately looked down to break their connection as he handed Brendan a report. My eyes narrowed on Brianna, who looked as if she were about to be ill, and then Brendan’s fist crashed against the table, sending silverware and dishes to clanging.

He cursed, clenched his jaw tight, and then handed the paper back to Wesley. “Gather a meeting, I’d like some control in how this gets out.”

Wesley hurried from the room and Brendan pressed the base of his palm firmly against his forehead before looking up to let us in on the bad news.

“Three different sources are reporting Morgan had a row with a couple senior Council members. After the disagreement, it seems that one of the men walked to the encased display knives and stabbed himself in the chest, directly through his heart.” There was a gasp from my right, and Kara covered her mouth with a manicured hand. Brendan’s jaw flexed and he swallowed hard. “The other abruptly changed his opinion, and knelt on the ground before Morgan’s feet.”

“No,” Seth said from beside him, “no, it’s not possible.”

“I might have agreed with you, Seth, if not for their character.”

“Who?” I said. “Which ones?”

Brendan sighed. “Caleb and Noah.”

“Oh gods.” Kara sounded sick. We all knew Caleb and Noah. Neither of them were the sort of man to commit suicide, or kneel down to Morgan.

It was true then. Morgan had figured out a way to use the sway against our own kind. He could control them.

He could control us all.

“Four more of the Council have receded, but at this point I don’t know who we can trust,” Brendan said. “I’m afraid to bring anyone else to our side if the influence is genuine.”

“He has to be stopped,” Kara said. “This isn’t right. No one should have that power.”

Emily huffed quietly beside me at Kara’s hypocrisy, but there was no humor in it. This was bad for everyone, but Brianna most of all. Without our immunity, there was no one to keep her safe.

And then a lead weight settled in my stomach. There was no one to keep any of us safe.

“But what about—” Seth started, and then suddenly remembered Brianna beside him and fell dumb.

“We should continue this in the conference room,” Brendan said. He glanced at me. “Aern?”

I subtly shook my head. No matter that I’d left Brianna under their protection, no matter that I was staying in their house, I would not join the Division simply because we shared the same enemy. I still had some choice. I wasn’t certain exactly what that was at the moment, but there had to be another option.

Kara glared at me openly, but Brendan and Seth didn’t take the time to try and convince me. The three of them were gone a moment later, and we sat alone at the small round table, the dragon, the prophecy girl, and her twin.

When Emily realized Brianna was crying, she startled us all by moving. She crossed to Brianna, who’d not made a sound but bore red-rimmed eyes and telltale tracks of a few escaped tears, and led her silently from the table.

I walked to the balcony, and stood unaccompanied for some time before Ellin found me and asked if there was anything I needed. There was. I gave her a list and she nodded before quickly disappearing.

It was Wesley who delivered the disposable phones.

“Is there anything else I can do?” he asked.

I leaned against the balcony railing; the chill wind bit at my exposed skin. Wesley didn’t appear to notice the temperature, or my critical gaze.

“Do you have any information that I should know about?”

He went a little pale.

“Because, unlike the others, I have only one goal here. I intend to save Brianna, prophecy or no.”

He shook his head in a stuttered nod. “Yes… I mean, no. No there’s nothing I haven’t reported.”

I frowned. “There is something between you and Brianna, Wesley.”

A sort of shudder ran through him, and he sputtered out denials so quickly I could only understand every third word.

“Calm down,” I said, stepping toward him. “Brianna is not the enemy. If you’ve been feeding her information—”

“No,” he spat. “No, I mean no, sir. I would never… The Division is all I have left. I couldn’t—” He was swiftly approaching the risk of hyperventilation.

“Wes, it’s okay. I only want you to tell me what it is. If there is something going on, I need to know. For Brianna.”

He nodded, gulping air as he did so. I gave him a few minutes to gather himself before trying again.

“What is it then?”

His face had recovered from the pallor, but he unexpectedly colored at the idea of answering. I stared at him, a flash of disbelief. Surely they weren’t…

“No!” Wesley cried, seeing my expression, “How could you even… No.” He groaned. “Brianna, she’s just… she’s helping me is all.”

Silence hung between us for a moment. “Helping you?”

He shifted his feet, glanced at the lawn. “You know how it is,” he muttered, “with Brendan and… before.”

I felt my shoulders relax. Whatever Brianna and Wesley were doing, it didn’t seem to be dangerous. I waited for the rest of the explanation.

He nervously wrenched a hand over the side of his neck, not wanting to delve into further embarrassment. “She saw the trouble I was having… she saw Brendan and the others, how things were going, and she offered to help. That’s all, Mr. Archer, I swear it. I would never tell her—”

I held up a hand to stop him, glancing pointedly at the balcony doors to his back, before carrying on a feigned conversation. “That will work perfectly, Wesley. And thank you for the prompt delivery of these phones. Oh, Ellin.” I glanced at her before a cursory nod at Wesley to dismiss him, and though he managed to school his features, his eyes betrayed an eternal gratefulness for the escape.

Ellin handed me a folder. “Mr. Archer,” she said in greeting, exhibiting the flawless business manner Brendan expected of all his staff. “If there is anything else I can do for you, please let me know.”

“This is sufficient for now, Ellin. Thank you.” I slipped the folder under my arm. “But could you have something sent up for Brianna?” She waited. “Hot tea, I think.”

Ellin nodded, barely able to maintain her impassive façade at the reference. I winked, certain the whole house was whispering about the state the prophecy girl had their stalwart leader in, and Ellin quickly spun to go. It felt odd to be anything but serious in a moment like this, but it seemed to happen of its own accord these days. I guessed my training was kicking in. If there was anything my father had taught me, it was to be calm in the face of disaster. Excitement spread like fire, and in the end someone always got burned.

Ellin had closed the balcony doors behind her, but both of us knew I didn’t have any real privacy. Not that it mattered; if my suspicions were correct, there would be no need of it. I pocketed one of the phones, flipped the other open.

When I dialed Avery, I had some hope. But there was nothing, not so much as a “this line has been disconnected” message on the other end. By the time I tried Nathan, I knew I wouldn’t be able to reach any of them. Morgan had managed to cut me off from all of those loyal to Council traditions, all those who might have been a help. I snapped the card from the back of the disposable phone and tossed it.

I leaned against the rail to page through the reports Ellin had given me. As I read the final page, I sighed. From the looks of things, the flicker of unrest was the least of our problems. We were about to walk into the flames of hell.

Chapter Seventeen

Irresistible Forces

As I walked through the halls, I overheard several small arguments and agitated conversations regarding what was to be done about Morgan and the Council. Apparently the meeting had broken up, and Brendan hadn’t been able to satisfy his followers with whatever mode of action, or inaction, he’d decided on. I hoped none of them were brave enough to attempt it on their own, and then internally flinched at the idea of my own intentions. Two days, and I still didn’t have a plan.

I knew I could get close to Morgan, there was no question of that. He would put on a show for what was left of Council, place his arrogant younger brother on display while he spouted quotes like “see how the mighty have fallen.” But Morgan had never truly underestimated me. In all the years he treated me as his subordinate, he’d never trusted that I was. He simply wanted to keep me in check, keep up the pretense and watch my every move. I tried not to think of what he might have done to the others. If he could bring a man to stab himself in the heart over a disagreement, he would surely have acted against those who’d openly supported me, those who had wanted me to take his place.

I turned the corner to the hall our rooms were on and froze.

Emily stood in the center of the corridor, staring up at Eric. The moment lasted an eternity, my chest tight as I took in the scene. Eric, of the Division, never a member of Council and never trusted, was inches from Emily, his hand resting on her arm—the hand that he needed to work his sway, the hand he’d used to manipulate human women, the hand that could tear her mind apart.