Midnight's Son (Darkling Mage 5)

still locked in the body of a teenage girl. None of the rumors said that she was a lich, like Carver, who had surrendered his humanity in exchange for immortality. But that brought no comfort. Not knowing what Odessa was, exactly, only made things worse.

I glanced uncertainly at the others, at Bastion as he slurped noisily from a plastic cup of Thai tea, at Prudence and Herald as they dutifully laid out the little takeout cartons in an orderly fashion. Romira was scrolling through her phone, probably on social media. I couldn’t get how they were being so blasé about Odessa. Her power and presence filled the entirety of Herald’s apartment. It almost made it hard to breathe.

“I realize that you are alarmed by my presence, Dustin,” she said, sensing my hesitation. “I won’t mince words. This is a cause for alarm. I hate to interrupt your meal before you even start, but I would very much like to speak with you alone.”

“Sure.” I stood up, fussing with my hair, beer in hand, still ice-cold from Herald’s touch. “Where do you want to talk?” I asked, waving a hand around the apartment. It wasn’t like there was anywhere we could really go without being overheard. What, the bathroom?

“This is fine,” she said, moving closer until we were face to face.

Okay. Awkward. I held my breath. I stood a full head taller than Odessa, but something about her made me feel that much smaller. She snapped her fingers, and the air around us gleamed. The ambient volume of the apartment, the hushed voices of Herald and the others faded to nothing. Odessa had erected one of her signature shields, infusing it with a zone of silence to give us a modicum of privacy.

I started to speak, to defuse the tension in our little force bubble. “It’s good to see you again – ”

“I’ll dispense with the pleasantries.” Dang. Odessa always got right down to business. She was never unkind, but had always been pretty chilly by default. “The Lorica’s inner circle wants you dead. I believe Igarashi briefed you on the prevailing theory that you have become a beacon for the Eldest. The Heart won’t stand for your existence. The Heart wants what it wants.”

There it was again, this time with a ring of reverence. I could practically hear the uppercase H. What fresh hell was this? Like I didn’t have enough to deal with.

“Wait. I’m sorry. The Heart?”

Chapter 13

“The Heart,” Odessa echoed. She breathed deeply before she spoke again, as if to emphasize the gravity of the situation. “The very core of the Lorica’s operations. The height of its leadership. Think of it as the board of directors, a conclave of all of the Scions. A great many of them believe that the solution to the problem of rifts tearing open across the city is atomizing you. Eliminating every cell of your body, to leave nothing for the Eldest to find.”

Jesus. I’d never heard of the Heart – probably another need to know element of the Lorica, like its high security Prism – but it made sense. A lorica, according to the ancient Romans, was a kind of breastplate. It was body armor, fitting for an organization dedicated to protecting both the mundane and the magical worlds. And it all fit together: the Eyes, the Hands, the Mouths, every component of a grand organism supporting the main body and working in concert to uphold the Veil.

And the Heart wanted to wipe me off the face of the planet. A little brutal for something so frequently associated with love, I’ll be honest.

“And who leads it? Who decided I was better off dead?”

“If I told you, I would have to kill you.”

“I can already tell you aren’t joking.”

Odessa pressed her lips together. “I don’t joke. It’s an unfortunate failing. I would caution you to lie low. Think of the quietest, most unobtrusive you can be. Then go lower than even that. I suggest you spend the night here at Igarashi’s. Do not return to your employer. Not yet. I can assure you, the Eyes are watching much more closely.”

“That doesn’t bode well,” I said. “It was easy enough for them to find me before this, but now you’re telling me they’re dedicating more Eyes to hunting me down?”

“They’re doubling that number, actually.”

I rubbed my hand across my face, groaning into my palm in frustration. Beyond the protection of Odessa’s force field, I could see that the others were already tucking into their takeout, all of them cautiously avoiding my gaze, mouths chewing or talking noiselessly. Only Herald was staring at me directly, his brows furrowed.

“Calm yourself,” Odessa said. “I will erect wards around Lorica headquarters to disrupt their scrying, to cloud their vision. Scramble your signature, as it were. Everything should be ready by morning. You will then go to your master – the lich – and acquire whatever arcane protections he can provide you.”

“Sounds about right,” I said. “Got it.” I would have to find that ring Carver once lent me, the one that would cloak my spiritual signature, and hide my true face with a glamour. It was somewhere in my bedroom, I was sure of it.

“Then you will leave the city of Valero.”

“But. My father. I can’t just – ”

Odessa held up one hand. “It is only temporary. You will be able to return to the city. That is, if you survive the wrath of the Heart.”

“And how do you propose I do that?”

“Run,” Odessa said. “As far as you can, as fast as you can. The Lorica will find you in time. That is inevitable. But perhaps by working with this master of yours – the man who calls himself Carver – we can indeed find ways of removing the scourge of the shrikes without having to resort to murder. Royce and I have faith that we can stop these incursions from happening.”

“About Royce.” I frowned. “How did he expect me to understand his warning? The Heart wanting what it wants and such.”

Odessa pursed her lips. “I believe he incorrectly assumed that you knew enough about the Lorica’s organizational structure to understand what he meant. Consider it an unfortunate miscommunication.”