Bound by Prophecy (Descendants Series) (14 page)

My muscles unfroze and I was running for him before my mind could process anything further. He was touching her. He was touching Emily.

He only had time to turn his head before I slammed into him. The two of us landed several feet from where he’d stood, and I had his head in a lock hold before he realized he’d been attacked. But Eric was big and solid, and one of the best fighters among the Division. He pressed a foot against the corridor wall and pushed, using his mass to roll us both. I tightened my grip, cutting off his air supply, and he threw an elbow into my ribs and then rolled backward in an attempt to flip out of the hold.

It didn’t work and he flailed, halfway over, and then came down hard before spinning sideways and using the wall to roll us again. When he got his feet, he raised us both, and slammed me into the wall where I clung behind him. I dropped the hold and drew back to strike him when Brendan burst out the door beside me and grabbed my arm. Suddenly he and Seth and Kara were struggling to separate us and yelling profanities.

The lot of us fell silent when Brianna stepped into the hall.

“I’m sorry,” Brendan said after a moment. He glared at me. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”

“He’s only protecting us,” Brianna replied, but her words were for me, not Brendan.

And then I realized they’d all come out of Brianna’s room.

“You aren’t in danger here,” Brendan said, looking at first to Emily and then Brianna. “Neither of you.”

His glare met Eric then, and it was clear he wasn’t included in the promise of safety.

Eric wiped his mouth. “I was apologizing, that’s all.” He looked at me, started to say more, and then pushed past all of us to leave.

Kara scowled at me again, crossed her arms and followed Eric’s lead.

“We’ll talk more later,” Brendan told Brianna, and then shook his head one final time before he and Seth went as well.

I shrugged to straighten my shirt, and then crossed to Emily, who stood silent, as if watching the scene replay before her. I grabbed her, a hand on each side of her head, and her eyes went wide as I stared into them, searching. I didn’t know what I expected to find, some telltale sign, some revealing feature that said she’d been hurt, but I couldn’t stop looking.

“Aern,” Brianna said from beside us. “She’s fine.” She placed a gentle hand on my arm. “I’m sorry I left her alone.”

My shoulders sagged at her words, and I loosened the grip I had on Emily.

“Come,” Brianna said, “we’ll have some tea.”

In the end, I had begged off the invitation. In a day and a half, I would be meeting Logan and the others to go after Morgan. I had to be prepared.

Though I hadn’t mentioned my plans to anyone aside from Logan, Brianna had said she understood. She had told me to rest and the answers would come. I didn’t suppose it was any real secret that Morgan had to be stopped, or that I was a likely candidate to take action, but that didn’t keep Brendan’s words from returning.
She knows too much
.

I shook my head and went back to the reports in front of me. None of it mattered if I didn’t find a way to stop Morgan. He’d managed to split us off from everyone who remained associated with Council. He’d recruited youth, he’d threatened elders, he’d made them take sides. And now there was nothing left to salvage.

Even if it wasn’t true, even if Morgan didn’t have the ability to sway our own kind, he’d succeeded in tearing apart the brotherhood among Council. He’d destroyed all trust. He’d forced us to war with our own kind. Men had died, and this was only the beginning.

I read through page after page of reports from the Division’s men. Warehouse purchases, missing person reports, human profiles, burned buildings, money transfers. Morgan was so thick into so many varied affairs, it was hard to see any pattern to his dealings. But one factor was prominent across the board: acquisition. He was gathering. Weapons. Buildings. Businesses.

People.

He had amassed untold numbers, our kind and commonblood. He was building an army. He would be unstoppable.

The Division could not handle a war of so many without resorting to Morgan’s methods. And even if they stooped to his level, the battle couldn’t be won by humans. It wouldn’t be over until our kind was wiped out on one side or the other. And there would be none of us left, the prophecy had made that clear. The prophecy had given only two outcomes. Both involved destruction, but there was only one choice that didn’t end in Armageddon. There was only one option to save us all.

Page after page, report after report, nothing I could see would hold up to Morgan. Whether he truly held sway against our own kind or not, nothing short of the chance Division had given me would do it. And it was the one thing I wasn’t sure I could do.

“Can I help?”

Emily’s words startled me and I looked up, surprised to find her standing in the doorway of the library. How long had she been there?

She took a few tentative steps forward. “I need something to do,” she said, glancing over her shoulder. “I can’t just sit here, when they might be… when Brianna…”

I closed the folder on the desk in front of me. “I understand.” I was feeling helpless, too. “I was only going through some financials, some of the intel they’ve gathered on Morgan’s doings.”

She nodded, coming closer. “Any luck?”

She wasn’t going to come right out and ask me what we planned to do. She knew I couldn’t tell her, even if I’d wanted to. And, honestly, I had no idea what Brendan’s plans were.

“There’s a lot to go through,” I offered. “You’re welcome to join me.”

She let out a relieved breath and sat opposite me in a large brocade reading chair, the desk between us. “Great. Where do I start?”

I passed a folder over, the contents innocuous enough even if it was fifty pages of small print. “We’re looking for anything suspicious, anything that might indicate a strike point or strategy.”

She stared up at me. “You mean you think he’s going to attack you.”

“The Division,” I corrected. “Morgan has a personal vendetta against me, but the Division is his only true adversary. The one group with the knowledge of his legitimacy and the means to stop him.” The one group that would challenge his rule.

Her brows drew together, and I thought she meant to say something, but she nodded slowly and looked down at the folder in her lap. I watched her as she settled in to her task, the truth in my words falling away from the rest in my mind.

No one else did understand the threat. No one but Council and the Division understood the importance of this decision. Council had already fallen to Morgan. I didn’t think I had ever truly believed it possible, in all the years I’d been taught the prophecy. How could Council, the entity that raised me, the being that embodied our entire history, fall apart? But it had. It had been taken down. And the Division was next.

I had to do something, I knew that. But even if I managed to reach Morgan, if I somehow overtook him, tricked him, stabbed him in the heart the first instant I came close enough, nothing would be solved. The Council was in ruin, there would be no reconciliation between the lines, and all that awaited was the end of days.

But Morgan did have sway against his own. And if I reached him, he could turn me. Brendan’s pleading tore at me.
You are our only chance
.

So that was it, then. It was the union or nothing. It didn’t matter that I didn’t want reign over Council, over all our kind. It was the only way.

My eyes involuntarily found Emily, feet propped on the desk as she turned page after page and scanned through the addresses. It had always seemed like the last option, the final, never-to-be-used backup plan, but deep down I didn’t doubt I would have surrendered to the Division and created the union with Brianna all along if I’d needed to. If it meant saving the world. But now, watching Emily, it seemed like more of a sacrifice than I remembered.

I would be bound to Brianna.

But it wouldn’t be long, would it? In two days, I was likely to die at the hands of Morgan. I might save the others, I might give them all a chance, but there wasn’t any guarantee I would make it. There was no way to know if Morgan would use his sway to turn me against those I’d meant to protect in some sick notion of rightfulness.

There wasn’t a surety of anything.

It was the best I could do, though. The best chance at keeping them both from harm.

Emily reclined in the chair, and I couldn’t help but think of the first night I’d held her in my arms. This time, I didn’t stare at my boots. I let my eyes roam over her, memorizing every part, lingering on the line of her neck, the curve of her lips. I could still see the way the sunrise colored her face through the hotel window, could still recall the sweet scent of her shampoo.

A horrified, “No,” slipped from Emily’s lips and then her feet fell from the desk to land hard on the floor beneath her. She was suddenly standing, staring at me. Terrified.

“What is it?” I asked, around the desk before I’d had time to process her reaction.

The folder fell away, and only the stack of papers remained in her hand, thirty or so pages back.

“Emily, what?” I begged.

Her eyes fell to the paper, her other hand pointing to a small, insignificant line. It was an address, a city southwest of here. I didn’t understand the connection.

“My mother,” she whispered. “Oh no, no, no—”

I grabbed her arms, gave her a firm shake to make her look at me.

“This address, this is where we lived…” She looked sick. “When my mother was taken.”

Chapter Eighteen

Revelations

I put a hand on a gasping Emily’s waist to usher her to my room. I had a feeling no one from the Division needed to hear our conversation. We were no more than through the door when she turned on me.

“Where did you get this?”

I watched her, not the stack of papers in her hand violently shaking in my direction. “We—” I stopped myself. “The Division has information-gatherers. Spies.”

She threw the stack to the floor, where it landed soundlessly on plush beige carpeting. “And they found them with Council. Do you know what that means? Do you?”

I stared at her. I had a feeling my idea of what it meant and her idea of what it meant were on two different planes.

She took a step toward me, a threat in her voice. “It means
your
people did this, Aern. Not the Division. Council, the ones we’re supposed to trust.”

My instincts told me to back slowly away, but my mouth had other ideas. “You know they aren’t to be trusted now. You heard the report. Morgan has figured out a way to sway our own kind—”

“No,” Emily said. “Not
now
. This isn’t a new report. My mother,
our
mother, was taken before Morgan got this sway—”

Emily suddenly grabbed her middle as if she’d been punched in the gut. “Oh no,” she groaned, shaking her head.

I reached for her and she put up a hand between us. “No. No, Aern, I… Oh no.”

“For the last time, what is it?” I was hovering over her where she hunched forward, my hands helplessly waiting.

“Nothing,” she said, waving the hand she’d held up. “Nothing, I, I have to…”

Her words were lost to me as she leaned over to pick up the papers. She was wearing clothes Brianna had gotten for her, clothes I presumed were Emily’s usual style, and the hem of the fitted Henley that had rested at her waist rode up to reveal the skin of her lower back.

“Christ,” I said. “Oh, Christ.”

Emily’s head turned to find me, momentarily distracted from her own agitation. She opened her mouth to ask “What?” and then her eyes, her wide, sea-glass-green eyes, followed mine and she realized what I’d seen.

My stomach turned. “Tell me it’s only a tattoo.”

She straightened, face pale despite having just righted herself.

I stepped closer. “Emily, tell me. Tell me you got a tattoo. Tell me you stayed out late, fell in with the wrong crowd, made some bad decisions, tell me you woke up with this and have no idea how it got there.”

Her cheeks flushed. “Ancient blood rite symbols? I don’t think so, Aern.”

I could see that she was embarrassed at my reaction, but I couldn’t stop myself. I grabbed her waist, spun her around, and moved her shirt aside to bare the top of an inked design on her lower left side.

She glanced back at me over her shoulder. “It’s not, it wasn’t like that, Aern. My mother. She… I told you about her. You know.” She was mortified now, having to explain her crazy mother’s ideas. “She did it when I was too young to argue with her.”

But her mother wasn’t crazy. She was a prophet. I swallowed hard before running my thumb over the design.

The words were stuck in my throat, choking me. All of it, the whole ordeal would have spilled out, but something like a single weak cough was all I could manage.

Emily turned slowly toward me, the gravity of my reaction sinking in. This wasn’t about some tattoo. This was something else. Something about the ancient symbols. Something about Brianna. “What?” she whispered, half afraid to find out more.