Storm and Fury (The Harbinger 1)

“And the abandoned fire tower is only a few miles from here,” Misha reminded them. “But this could’ve happened around the time the Ravers were here.”

Nicolai didn’t seem surprised whatsoever by the mention of Ravers, so either Thierry had filled him in or Zayne had.

“Is it possible this man had been dead that long?” Thierry asked.

“I’m not a forensic pathologist nor do I play one on television, so I can’t tell you the time of death. It could’ve happened before the Ravers or after,” I told them.

“We’ll send a team out today to scout the area.” Thierry began to rise. “I don’t want either of you two speaking about this to anyone, not even Jada. Do you understand me? I don’t want to cause unnecessary alarm.”

“Understood,” Misha said, and I nodded.

We were dismissed after that, and I went upstairs to my bedroom. Misha followed, and as soon as I opened my door, I knew something was off.

The room was an icebox.

I scanned the room, seeing the curtains billowing over the cream-colored chaise lounge.

“Peanut,” I grumbled, hurrying to the window. Pushing the curtains aside, I closed the window and then turned back to Misha.

“That ghost is really weird.”

“Not as weird as what just went on downstairs. I can’t believe Thierry had me talk in front of Nicolai.” I walked over to my bed and plopped down. “Something is going on, Misha.”

“Normally I would tell you that you’re being paranoid, but you’re right.” He leaned against the door. “That was freaking weird.”

“Yeah, it was.” I stared at him as I rubbed my palms over my thighs. “Knowing that I can see ghosts and spirits isn’t that big of a deal, but...”

“But knowing that is one step closer to finding out what you are.”

* * *

I couldn’t sleep.

Probably because it was only, like, eleven at night and normally I didn’t even think about climbing into bed until midnight, but I was feeling...weird.

Again.

Restless. Antsy. Irritated.

I didn’t even know why I was irritated, but I was.

I hadn’t even taken Misha up on his offer to go down to the Pit. I was kind of surprised to hear that people were there, but maybe the Accolade had ended early? Who knew? All I did know was that Misha wanted to go the Pit because Alina would likely also be there, so here I was, feeling...

Antsy.

Restless.

Nervous.

Irritated.

Expectant.

I didn’t understand that last one, or any of it, but that was how I felt—like I was waiting for something to happen. Like everything was about to change.

Or that something had changed.

Lying in bed, I stared up at the softly glowing stars as I drew one leg up. My heart was pounding too fast, like I was in the middle of a training session with Misha, but all I’d been doing for the past hour was lying here. Before that I’d gone looking for Peanut, but I guessed he was in the Great Hall peeping on Zayne.

Zayne.

Ugh.

I smacked my hands over my face and dragged my palms down. Had be been flirting with me? Like for real? Not that it mattered. When he left, he’d be gone, and he’d been leaving soon. The final ceremony was in three days.

And there were way more important things to be thinking about.

I rolled onto my side, eyes peeled wide open. A thousand different things were circling around in my head. I was worried about what had killed Wayne and if the group that had gone out scouting would find anything. I couldn’t sense a demon, but all that meant was that one wasn’t close to the walls.

I couldn’t stop thinking about how Thierry and Matthew had brought Nicolai into that meeting, letting him know what I could see, which was beyond freaking strange.

And yeah, I was also wondering if Zayne really was missing a part of his soul.

I was so not going to sleep anytime soon.

Nope.

Sitting up, I swung my legs off the bed, then reached over to turn on the bedside lamp. I blinked until my eyes adjusted and then rose. I grabbed a pair of leggings and pulled them on, along with a sports bra, before snatching up a thermal I’d stolen from Misha ages ago. It was baggy, almost a tunic on me, and I loved it because it was cozy and smelled like cloves no matter how many times I washed it.

I left the bedroom and made my way downstairs. As I walked past Thierry’s office, I saw a faint light seeping underneath the paneled double doors. There were voices. Matthew’s. Thierry’s. A third voice, also, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying.

More closed-door meetings.

If Peanut was around, I’d send him inside to spy for me, something he’d love doing. Said it made him feel like Davey Osborne, and I had no idea who that was. I was guessing it was something ’80s related, but he was so curious about the visitors, all he was doing was hanging out at the Great Hall.

Ducking my chin, I headed out the back door and across the patio, following the worn path I didn’t need to see to walk since I’d traveled this route hundreds of times over. I tugged the long sleeves over my hands and crossed my arms against the still-chilly night air as I reached the stone wall that was smaller than the one that surrounded the whole community. This wall circled one of the larger, wooded parks.

All the way at the end of the stone wall was the Pit.

I made my way to the opening to the Pit. The scent of burning wood surrounded me. Laughter and the hum of conversation mixed with the soft lull of music.

I stopped at the opening, watching the flames dance against the night sky. What was I doing? Was I about to insert myself between Misha and Alina? If I did that, he’d be focused on me instead of Alina. Instead of enjoying himself.

What if Misha hadn’t wanted to be bonded?

The moment that thought entered my head, I wanted to scrub it out with a wire brush. Neither of us had a choice, not me from birth and not Misha from the moment he met me. Misha had said it was an honor, and I believed him, but just because something was an honor didn’t mean it was something someone wanted.

Feeling sick to my stomach, I pivoted and started back to the house. Maybe Thierry and Matthew would be done in their office, and I could bother them.

Maybe I’d crawl into bed and force myself to go to sleep. That sounded like a ton of fun.

Halfway back from the Pit, I stopped and looked up at the sky. It was a pretty clear night. I could see four faint twinkles. Stars. I closed my right eye. Correction. I could see three faint twinkles. There were probably more. The whole sky was probably full of stars, and maybe if I stared long enough—

I heard the footsteps behind me, and instead of swinging like I had done several nights before, I started to turn.

Pain exploded along the back of my head, powering down my spine, short-circuiting my senses, stunning me.

And then I was falling.

10

My knees cracked on the pavement as my palms scraped across the rough surface.

Breathe.

That’s what I told myself as I forced my eyes to stay open and sharp, throbbing pain and nausea nearly overwhelming me. Breathe through it. Don’t pass out. Breathe. My vision tunneled more than it normally did, and I struggled not to cave to the encroaching darkness and the pulsing pain.

An arm circled my waist, a whoosh of air stirred around me and I was lifted clear off the ground. In the back of my mind, I knew... I knew what it was that grabbed me. I didn’t sense a demon, and no human could pick me up like that.

Warden.

Memories from a year ago surfaced. Mom’s wide brown eyes, full of horror, as she realized what was about to happen. We’d been caught off guard, betrayed.

No. No way.

This was not happening again.

A bolt of fear blasted through me like a gunshot, kicking years of training into gear, pushing me past the panic and pain. Dropping one foot to the ground, I swung the other one back, my foot connecting with my attacker’s calf.

I was rewarded with a grunt of pain and the arm loosened around me. I went limp in his grip, my sudden deadweight throwing him off. He dropped me, and I hit the ground, rattling my teeth. I pushed through it again—through the woozy pain in my head and the roaring confusion. I rolled and then sprang up, whirling around.

And saw a mask—one of those white, plastic doll masks with the painted red cheeks and wide, pink smile.

“That’s therapy-inducing.” I stumbled back a step, shuddering.

The Warden was in his human form. I could tell, because he began to shift as he charged me. His dark shirt ripped along the shoulders as wings unfurled, revealing dark gray skin.

This was bad—so bad. Even if I had my blades, which I didn’t, I would be in for a whole different kind of fight once his skin hardened.

I feinted to the left as he grabbed for me. Spinning, I bent at the waist and kicked out. My foot connected with the side of his face, snapping his head back and cracking the plastic mask. It started to slip, but I couldn’t see anything other than shadows under the mask.

He stumbled back a step and then swung out. It was too much and too fast, coming from the periphery in my blind spot. I jumped back as his hand shifted, forming razor-sharp claws. The Warden caught the sleeve of my shirt. Clothing ripped and then fiery pain lit up my shoulder.

Wet warmth poured down my arm as I spun out of his grasp, sending a bolt of pure, raw terror through me. The fear did not come from the wound or the fact that a Warden was after me—it sprang forth because of the blood.

My blood.

Its aroma filled the air and rose with the wind, a metallic, sweet scent that could not be hidden.

It would draw them, and that knowledge triggered the thing that rested deep inside me, a power that I’d been taught since birth to keep under control, to keep hidden until the time my father unleashed it—unleashed me.

“No,” I whispered, even though it was pointless. It was triggered, and there was no stopping it.

Heat flared in my chest, the power and the warmth of a thousand suns. It rushed through my veins like a storm and heated lightning.

My grace rose to the surface, took over even as I fought it, even as I tried to think of winter, of cold mornings and icy rain. It was no use.