Storm and Fury (The Harbinger 1)

Jerking awake, I gasped for air as I tried to get a sense of my surroundings. Where was I? I didn’t recognize the darkness of the bedroom. There were no stars on the ceiling and the bed...was far too big to be mine.

It took me moment to remember that I was at Zayne’s place, in his bed, and he was alive and I was alive.

It was just a nightmare.

Groaning, I pulled my hands out from under the comforter and pushed several strands of hair out of my face.

The bedroom door cracked open, startling me. I held my breath as I strained to see the shape filling the darkness of the doorway.

“You okay?” Zayne’s voice was rough from sleep. “I thought I heard you scream.”

The warmth of embarrassment crept across my face. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s all right,” he replied, and I didn’t see him move but I felt him draw closer. My vision still hadn’t adjusted when the lamp on the bedside table turned on, causing me to wince. His gaze drifted over me, lingering on where I was clenching the edges of the blanket, my knuckles bleached white. “Can’t sleep?”

I shook my head, surprised that Zayne was checking in on me. After the whole showdown in the parking garage, things had been...awkward between us. We’d barely spoken, even when we came across a pack of Ravers in the back alley of one of the major theaters downtown. We’d come back to his place a few hours ago and parted ways without saying much of anything to each other.

I dared to peek up at him.

A look of understanding flickered across his face as he glanced at the door he just came through. Then, wordlessly, as my heart started beating crazily fast, he gestured toward the bed.

“May I?”

I wasn’t sure if this would help our current standoff, but I didn’t want to be alone, so I nodded and scooted over, keeping ahold of my blanket like it was lifeline.

“Nightmares?” he asked, his voice low as he sat beside me and leaned against the headboard.

I nodded as I watched him stretch out his long legs, crossing them at the ankles.

Tipping his head back, he looked over at me. “I’m sorry.”

“About what?”

He was quiet for a long moment. “About everything, really. You’ve been through a lot, and that’s emotionally and mentally tiring. Your mind is going to make it rough on you, even when you’re at rest.”

“You don’t have to apologize. It’s not your fault,” I said. “You’re actually doing everything you can. It’s just... I don’t know. I feel like I don’t have control in any of this and I’m...”

“What?”

Confused. Antsy. Uncertain. “I’m just... I’m scared. I know I shouldn’t admit that, but I’m scared that I won’t find Misha in time or, when I do, it will be too late, because he must be going through things I can’t even imagine.”

He folded his arms loosely over his chest. “It’s okay to be scared, Trinity. It’s okay to worry.”

“I know.” I held my blanket tighter.

“Then stop giving yourself such a hard time.”

I exhaled heavily. “And I...I should apologize to you. I shouldn’t have asked you what I did earlier. It was none of my business and I was just—I was being an ass, and you were trying to help me.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize.” He drew one leg up. “It just caught me off guard. Sort of surprised me that you haven’t said anything until tonight, considering all the questions you ask.”

I snorted. “Yeah, I’m kind of surprised myself.”

“I just... I want you to know that I do understand why you need to do everything you can,” he said while I wrestled with the desire to ask him what happened.

I pulled my knees up under the blanket and rested my chin on them. Easier said than done. “So, you’re okay with me meeting with the witches?”

“Going to have to be.”

“You’re...not used to having to sit things out, are you?”

“Not even remotely.”

I smiled at that, feeling a little better about what had happened in the garage. “Do you think these witches Roth was talking about are going to be able to tell us anything?”

“At this point, who the Hell knows?” He nudged my knees with his. “But if those humans who attacked the community alongside Bael were under a spell, they should know who did it, or at least who’s capable of it, and through them, we may find where Bael is and if he still has Misha.”

“And what if the witches we go to are the ones who helped Bael?” I asked.

“Then things are going to go south.” A pause. “I know you’ve been taught to not use your grace, because it weakens you and it can draw other demons to you, but if you ever find yourself in a situation you can’t get out of by fighting, use it.”

I didn’t know how to respond at first. “You know, you’re the first person to say that to me. Neither Misha nor Thierry has ever said that.”

“I know it’s a risk for you to do it, but I’d rather deal with the risk and the consequences than have you end up hurt or worse,” he told me, and my chest got all warm and fuzzy. “If the witches try anything, take them out.”

“You’re kind of bloodthirsty.”

“I’ve learned to be.”

That he had. Shifting my gaze from his, I looked up at the ceiling and wished I could see stars. “I miss my ceiling.”

“What?” Zayne laughed.

A faint smile tugged at my lips. “At home I have these amazingly tacky glow in the dark stars on my ceiling. They’re white. Not green. I’m not that tacky.”

“Never,” Zayne murmured. “I remember seeing them.”

“Anyway, I like staring up at them.” I lifted a shoulder in a shrug that caused my back to ache a little. “Kind of stupid, I know.”

“It’s not,” he replied. “It’s familiar.”

I couldn’t help but wonder if I would ever lie under them again.

“Can I ask you a question?”

I nodded. “Sure?”

“What happened with your mother exactly?” he asked. “I hate to bring it up and I felt like shit for doing so when we were at Roth and Layla’s place, but you said that this Warden thought you were...”

“An abomination?” I supplied for him, sighing. I didn’t talk about my mom a lot, because it always ended with me wondering why I’d never seen her ghost or spirit, but I wanted to talk to Zayne about her. Maybe because he hadn’t known me when it happened, and that made opening up easier? Or maybe because, unlike Jada or Ty, he knew what it felt like to lose a parent? I wasn’t sure. “My mom was trained. Did you know that?”

“No, I didn’t.”

A small smile pulled at my lips. “She wanted to be trained just in case something happened. She was strong like that, didn’t want anyone to take care of her while she sat around like a frail flower.”

“Sounds an awful lot like her daughter.”

That made my smile grow. “That’s a compliment.”

“I would hope so. Who trained her?”

“Thierry and Matthew. They...they loved her,” I said, rolling onto my side, facing Zayne. “And I think... I think they still mourn her death as much as I do.” I drew in a shallow breath. “Ryker was a Warden my mom trusted, as did Matthew and Thierry. They were friends and...he was always kind to me, but I...I messed up.”

“How do you think you messed up?”

I closed my eyes. “It happened about a year before my mom was killed. I was sixteen, and I was training with Misha. He’d gotten the upper hand on me.” I paused. “He got the upper hand on me a lot, because he knew my weaknesses and he exploited them to try to get me to improve.”

“That makes sense.”

“Yeah, it does.” I thought about the way Misha would purposely stay in my blind spots to train me to react even when I couldn’t see what was going on. “Anyway, I got mad...and as you’ve already realized, I can be a wee bit impulsive.”

“Just a little,” he said, and I could hear the gentleness in his voice.

“Well, Misha was really getting on me, just messing around, but I lost my temper—my control. I let the grace take over to remind him that at end of the day, he couldn’t beat me. Not that he needed to be reminded, but I was being a brat and...and Ryker saw me. I didn’t realize at the time that he had, and I don’t even understand how he did, because he never came to the training facilities, but...he figured out from there what I was. He saw me as an abomination and a threat to other Wardens. He also knew that I could attract demons to the community, so it was a double-edged threat. He told a few other clansmen, and they decided that I should be...put down.”

“Jesus.” Zayne sounded horrified.

“The messed-up thing is that he waited nearly a year to come after me. A year of pretending to be my friend, being kind to my mom and hiding the fact that he hated me.” I let out a shaky breath. “Anyway, I use to go see a doctor in Morgantown for something that I couldn’t get treatment for in the community, and Ryker had accompanied us before, a lot of times actually, but...that time was different. After the appointment, on the way home, he pulled over and said there was a problem with the car. Mom and I got out, and that’s when he made his move. He shifted and came at me, and I was so shocked. I just stood there like a dumbass, and Mom—she jumped in front of me, and that was...that was it.”

I flipped onto my back while Zayne remained quiet, and somehow, when I straightened my legs, we were closer. My leg rested next to his. “I have been taught nearly all my life to control my grace. To not use it until it’s time. But if I had used my grace, I could’ve stopped him—stopped him like I did Clay. I could’ve saved my mom—”