Shifting Fate (18 page)

There was something so off
about the image that I couldn’t process it. It was not a vision,
not the future. Not something that would come to pass. It was the
impression of Brendan
now
, hurt worse than the healing could
repair in the days since I’d been taken. It meant that he must have
been near death when they’d found him.

But it wasn’t a vision. And I didn’t know how
it had gotten there.

The others were watching us. Wesley laid a
hand briefly on my arm before walking to his seat, leaving two
chairs open at the head of the table beside Emily and Aern. I
glanced at her, a silent inquiry about her reaction to the changes
I’d made and she shrugged a shoulder, apparently not sure if she
felt any different. I’d have to do more, there was something I’d
missed.

Aern was determined to do whatever he could
to keep me safe, so he opened discussion without mention of our
discovery, of our plans, merely allowing the others to relay the
updates and information they and their teams had gathered. Morgan’s
numbers were growing too big. He was getting to a point that he
would have been hard to deal with even without the benefit of sway.
But he did have that influence, which meant that every man, every
soldier, would fight until the end, to whatever lengths Morgan had
ordered them. However he had manipulated them.

“
It’s not just that,” Kara
said. “He’s placing them in strategic locations around the city.”
She dropped a map to the center of the table, dots spreading out
and around the Council properties, near Division houses, and near
any place unpopulated. Any place where the Seven would be free to
fight without having to conceal themselves from the masses of
unknowing, from the watching eyes of humans. My fingers tightened
on the cold metal frame that supported the glass top table. He was
collecting rundown properties, vacant lots that were no longer
under the care, the watchful eyes, of the city. To build his
army.

“
He’s getting close,” Seth
said, his gaze skirting mine. No one was going to make predictions
with me in the room, but that didn’t stop them from thinking it.
Morgan was coming, and soon.

“
Let’s keep teams at these
four locations,” Aern said, gesturing to points outside the Council
gates. “Keep an eye on his movements, but don’t engage. We only
want you to report what he’s up to.”

“
By then it will be too
late,” Eric argued, “all we have to do is—”

Aern cut him off, “We do not engage.”

He wasn’t one to repeat an order, and the
room fell silent. Eric said, “Sir.”

When he leaned back, openly accepting the
instruction, Aern looked to Kara. “I want your team outside the
Westlake Properties.” She nodded, and by her solemn expression, I
knew the vision, the impression I’d had, had been right about where
Brendan was recovering. Aern didn’t take his eyes off her. “This is
your call, Kara. But you have to know, if they descend too quickly,
we won’t be able to get there in time.”

My focus drifted from the conversation as I
became aware of the meeting’s purpose. They had decided it was
time, were prepared for the end. This group, the leaders of the
last soldiers of the Seven Lines, was prepared to either give their
lives in the fight or to lose themselves to Morgan and his sway.
All of it, to protect their way of life, what they believed in.

And they believed in me.
Their prophet. Their guardian. I closed my eyes, sinking in to the
horrible, horrible feeling. Maybe I was put here to save them, and
to save the human lives. Or maybe I was put here to stop them. A
shade, a hidden shadow, meant to slay the dragon. Their
leader,
their
dragon.

It was Morgan, no matter
what the visions said. It had to be Morgan. That other sight, the
one with fire and Aern, that was some alternate fate, some destiny
that wouldn’t come, that couldn’t play out, because my sister
was
not
going to
die.

Logan put his hand over mine
under the table and I squeezed, grateful for the touch. I could do
this. I
would
do
this. I concentrated, finding that network again, fusing my
connections back into place. I didn’t stop to think what it meant,
how they could have been destroyed, why the power was taken from
me. I just did what I could do. What I had to do.

“
Brianna,” Aern whispered
from his chair beside me, and I opened my eyes to find him leaned
over, as if he were casually offering me water from the pitcher
while the others talked. But I could see the truth, the concern in
his eyes, and I came back, abruptly aware of how far I’d fallen
into my task. I nodded, assuring him I was okay, and pulled my grip
free of Logan’s.

It was ice cold. He watched me, waiting for
some sign, neither of them wanting to cause a scene, and I said,
“Tea if you have it. Something warm.”

They exchanged a glance, but
Ava had heard, and a steaming mug and the fall of her auburn hair
were suddenly intersecting their view of each other. I managed a
casual smile and slid my hands around the heat of the cup, my gaze
raking the table, finding Seth, Eric, Council women and men.
Suddenly, a loud
pop
broke the remaining conversation as everyone’s heads snapped
in my direction.

I sat the mug onto the glass tabletop, the
chink of its contact too loud, and managed a light laugh. “Sorry to
scare everyone.” I pointed toward the cup, keeping the rest of my
hand folded over my palm. “Mug must have had a crack in it.”

Ava was there, a damp towel wiping at the
tabletop and an apology on her lips, but I stopped her, “No, no,
really. It’s fine. I’ve just,” I covered my stomach, as if there
were a spot, some stain I was embarrassed to let everyone see, and
stood. “I’ve made a bit of a mess. I think I’ll go get this cleaned
up.”

I hadn’t felt it, hadn’t realized how severe
the chill had been.

Logan pushed out his chair, following close
behind me, and I could see out of the corner of my eye it took
everything Emily had not to stand up and follow as well. But she
didn’t have an excuse.

His hand went to my lower back, steps swift
as we made our way down the hall. We passed a member of the staff,
her hair pulled tight into a braided bun, crisp white shirt tucked
into a navy pencil skirt, and I smiled at her greeting. Logan
reached in front of me, twisting the lever to my room, and
practically thrust me inside. The door clicked shut behind us and
he drew me back to him, gently pulling my fisted fingers away from
my palms.

They were clean. Free of
cuts, marks, or liquid of any kind. Nothing had touched me, and his
gaze came up to mine, clearly a
what was
that?

I raised a brow. “Thermal shock?” He stared
at me, and I said, “It’s when something really cold touches
something really hot. Like dropping an ice cube in coffee.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. He knew what
thermal shock was.

I bit back a grin. Shrugged. “I guess the
connections are working.”

Chapter Twenty

Breaking

Logan stared at me, apparently unable to form
an appropriate response. I pretty much felt the same way. Of all
the things we’d been after, of all the things we’d been hoping for,
this wasn’t even a consideration. All we’d planned on was some
spectacular talent of Emily’s. Some way to stop Morgan. A hidden
thing, really. Not this.

Not this
.

“
Is it …” he started, his
thumbs slowly crossing my palms as we stood frozen. “Is it like the
old ways?” He was being careful with me, the shock not stealing
from him the knowledge that this might hurt me, that I was a shade.
A shadow.

“
I don’t know,” I answered
honestly. “I haven’t … I mean, I didn’t even realize it was so
strong.” I glanced at our hands, the tattoos. “I was only trying to
mend the connections, Logan. I didn’t realize …”

It was starting to sink in. The gravity of
what had happened, of what I’d done. I said, “I need to sit down.”
The words were flat, emotionless. I couldn’t even process how I
felt about it.

Logan went with me, both of us finding the
edge of the sofa, and we sat, wordless and without movement, struck
still by the enormity of it. Time must have passed, unaccounted,
because Emily came in, breathless and impatient from being forced
to wait.

“
What is it?” She knelt
before me, hands hovering over mine where they lay palms open,
tattoos exposed. “Brianna, what happened?”

My eyes met hers, identical despite
everything else. Sea glass green, lit by tiny sparks of amber. “It
worked,” I told her. My palms spread, fingers splaying open in a
gesture of helplessness, explanation. She stared at them, not sure
whether to recoil or reach for them, and I laughed, an edge of
hysteria coloring my tone. “It worked, Emily. We did it.”

She flushed, excitement or adrenaline, or
some other wild emotion boiling in her blood, and said, “It’s
over?”

“
Well,” I shook my head,
relief warring with reason, “I …” But I couldn’t think, couldn’t
decide. Surely this was it. The key we needed to stop Morgan. I had
found Emily’s connections, was just short of repairing them all,
and now this. This in me.

But it was a turn, wasn’t it? The power
coming back, the things that I could do so similar to the visions,
so close to the picture of fire. Inferno.

“
It has to be,” I said.
“This must be it.”

It was over. Eighteen years of living under a
prophecy, and we were about to break free, to fulfill a destiny
that was set forth thousands of years ago. Everything we’d lost,
everything that had been taken from us, was for this. She took my
hands and smiled, and it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen
on her, finally, completely free of worry and stress. It was
nothing but relief, and freedom. Because it was over.

And then a piercing ache tore through my
chest as a vision began. “No,” I whispered, my hands squeezing hers
too tight. Her face was awash with blood and fire as Morgan’s men
tore through the city.

“
Brianna,” Emily cried,
tightening her hands, pulling me back. I opened my eyes, but
whatever she saw there frightened her more than my words ever could
have. She was on her feet, ready to fight. To protect
us.

The door burst open and Aern was running in,
Logan on his feet, the room seeming to spin around us. I closed my
eyes tight, pressed my palms against my temples. Focused.

“
He’s coming,” Aern said,
and the image of Morgan—dark suit and malicious smile as he walked
into the Council’s main hall—swam in my vision. We only had
minutes. They were all there, Seth, Kara, Wesley, they’d not gotten
free from the building before the warning came, before Morgan had
decided to make his move.

“
They can’t fight him,” I
said, gaze going to Aern. “Stop them.”

A quick nod answered my warning, and I
realized there were other men, waiting for Aern’s instruction. He
barked an order and a wiry man with dark blue eyes disappeared, the
beat of his steps dissolving into the hallway. Two more stood
there, armed and ready.

“
He’ll approach at the west
entrance,” I said. “If they try to stop him,” my eyes cut to Logan,
to Emily, “he’s got explosives. Fire.” The sway.

Aern’s gaze was unflinching. “And if we let
him come?”

I bit my lip, took Emily’s hand. “I just need
to find it. The one last piece.”

He nodded. “The walls are stronger in the
central rooms. We should wait there.” My pulse skipped, the tempo
giving me strength I knew I didn’t have. He was taking us to the
main hall, the one from my vision. This was it.

The four of us moved through the corridor,
Aern’s men rushing forward and behind, packs of soldiers that could
do nothing to prevent this attack, and I held Emily’s hand,
searching for the link that would free her power. Aern would delay
things as long as possible, I knew that. He’d do whatever it would
take to give us that time.

But if it didn’t work, it was Emily that
would pay the price.

Logan’s hand went to his ear, the small
device back in place. “He’s on Langhorn, cutting over to Thompson.
There’s a group moving in from the east as well, and three more
waiting for the go-ahead.”

“
How many?” Emily asked,
steeling herself for what was about to come, for the numbers we’d
be facing.

Logan looked at her, jaw tight, and it was
answer enough.

Too many.

The men in front of us
turned, a dark mass of cargo pants and business suits. No one had
expected this, not yet. They only needed a little more time; they
weren’t ready.
We
weren’t ready.

I glanced up and the vaulted ceiling seemed
too far away, the crossing timbers creating lines and shapes that
hurt my head. I had to close my eyes again, squeezing tight until
the white washed walls from my vision were gone, until none of it
remained. This was now. This was me.

Emily bumped me with an elbow and I nodded,
shoulders straightening as I focused anew. I scanned the room, a
large, open area with tables scattered near the outer walls. Narrow
windows sat high on the walls to our right, the atrium apparently
taller than the rest of the structure, and a massive arched
entryway centered the wall opposite us, where Morgan and his men
would be coming in. The wood floor stretched toward it, dark birch
planks stained with age, giving the room the feel of money, of
power.