Wildfire
Page 78
I should have walked away, but I couldn’t now. I had to know. “What did you do?”
“In the end, I found one. Formerly of House Molpe. They call themselves something else now. I suppose Molpe was too on the nose. The Office of Records is delighted to call Catalina’s talent siren. They think they are clever and came up with something new, but the truth is, your grandfather’s family called their magic that for generations.”
“How did you convince him?”
She grimaced. “Money. They’d excised him. He was a siren, a true Prime, terrified to use his talent because it brought him nothing but misery.”
“I thought the siren talent only manifested in females.”
“They’d like you to think that, but no. Believe me, I checked. I had far too much riding on it. The father was the lesser hurdle. I also had to find a surrogate. She had to be a Prime. Anything less than a Prime, and I ran the risk of lessening the child’s magic or her failing to carry to term. I couldn’t afford either. Finding a Prime surrogate was impossible.”
Oh no. Oh my God, no. “You didn’t.”
She smiled for the first time, a quick parting of lips and a flash of teeth. “I did.”
“How?”
“Blackmail and money. Two of the oldest levers one presses when trying to move people to her purpose.”
I just stared, horrified.
“Your father wasn’t just special. He was one of a kind. There will never be another. I had them neuter her.”
“What?”
“She’s kept under constant sedation. That’s the only way they can keep her contained. She never knew the pregnancy happened. The cost was astronomical, but it was worth it.”
“That’s horrible. You are horrible.”
“I am.”
She sipped her tea.
“Your father was a triple carrier. His own magic failed to express, which was expected. I never held that against him. I had enough magic for us both. His real value was in the children he would produce. I always had faith that the genes would sort themselves out. But to do that, to be a successor, he had to be shaped and molded. There were lessons he had to learn. Practical, useful lessons that would keep him alive after I was gone. He hated them, and he hated me for teaching them.”
Considering what I just heard, those lessons wouldn’t have been the gentle kind. “He left.”
“He did. I underestimated him. He kept his spine so well-hidden. I pushed and pushed, expecting him to learn or break, but he did neither. He planned his escape and executed it so well that even all of my power couldn’t find him. I was so proud. My son had outsmarted me. I should’ve expected it, but I was so focused on making sure he survived. I had so much to teach and I was in a hurry.”
“You’re a monster,” I told her.
“An abomination. I believe that’s the preferred term.”
I flinched. She smiled again.
“I see you’ve run into it.”
“I can’t believe you did that.”
“I would do it again.”
“What?”
“Look how wonderful it turned out. James made not one but three—three!—children. All of them Primes. He did so well. House Tremaine will go on. All I have to do is convince you to see things my way. And we’ve just established that I can be very convincing. What will it take, Nevada?”
“The answer is still no.”
“You will do as I say.” The power of her magic clamped me. I shrugged it off.
“No, I won’t.”
Victoria laughed. She actually laughed. “You’re everything I ever wanted.”
My phone chimed. I checked it. A text from Bern. Get out of there.
I jumped to my feet.
Five men walked into the restaurant, guns drawn. “On the floor,” the lead one ordered. The hostess dropped down. On my left, the two chefs behind the sushi bar hit the floor.
“Hands where I can see them,” the leader ordered.
They hadn’t fired, so they wanted me alive. I held my hands up and glared at Victoria. “Really?”
She was looking past me at the men. “What is the meaning of this?”
“Alexander says he’s sorry,” the lead man said. “He needs the girl. This is for the cause. He said you would understand.”
“Oh no, my dears,” my grandmother said. “This isn’t about the cause. This is about family.”
Magic snapped out of her. When I clamped people with my will, my magic turned into a vise, a net that smothered and bound them. Victoria turned hers into a blade and stabbed the leader with it. He cried out, a weak fading sound, his eyes rolled back into his skull, and he collapsed.
I jerked my Baby Desert Eagle out.
In the same instant, the man to the left of the leader yelped and clawed at his eyes. The man on the right fell to his knees and hit his head on the floor.
I got off four shots before I realized the two remaining targets stood completely still. My bullets ripped into their chests. Slowly, they toppled over. Five dead bodies lay on the floor. There was nobody left to kill.
Someone shoved me from behind. I stumbled forward. The sound of shattering glass cut at my ears, impossibly loud. I swung right, toward the broken window. A man stood with his rifle up, taking another shot. A Ford Explorer exploded out of the parking lot and smashed into him. The shooter went down, a rag doll under the wheels. Bern drove over him, his face bloodless, reversed and backed over the body.
I turned to Victoria. A dark wet stain spread through Victoria’s shoulder. She’d pushed me out of the way. The bullet with my name on it had torn into her instead.
“You need an ambulance.”
She grimaced. “I’ll be fine. I have a private physician.”
“You’ll bleed out. You need paramedics now.” I grabbed my phone to dial 911. “Why did you do it?”
“Because you’re my granddaughter, you idiot.”
My phone died. What the hell, I had fully charged it in the car . . .
“Wait . . .” Victoria turned pale, looking at something past me.
I glanced over my shoulder. A darkness spread through the restaurant, expanding from the entrance, climbing over the walls, claiming the space. An ancient darkness that took me into its maw and made me still.
Michael from the Office of Records walked into the restaurant. He still wore the sharp suit and a crisp shirt, blindingly white against his tattooed neck. His hands burned with blue fire.
“In the end, I found one. Formerly of House Molpe. They call themselves something else now. I suppose Molpe was too on the nose. The Office of Records is delighted to call Catalina’s talent siren. They think they are clever and came up with something new, but the truth is, your grandfather’s family called their magic that for generations.”
“How did you convince him?”
She grimaced. “Money. They’d excised him. He was a siren, a true Prime, terrified to use his talent because it brought him nothing but misery.”
“I thought the siren talent only manifested in females.”
“They’d like you to think that, but no. Believe me, I checked. I had far too much riding on it. The father was the lesser hurdle. I also had to find a surrogate. She had to be a Prime. Anything less than a Prime, and I ran the risk of lessening the child’s magic or her failing to carry to term. I couldn’t afford either. Finding a Prime surrogate was impossible.”
Oh no. Oh my God, no. “You didn’t.”
She smiled for the first time, a quick parting of lips and a flash of teeth. “I did.”
“How?”
“Blackmail and money. Two of the oldest levers one presses when trying to move people to her purpose.”
I just stared, horrified.
“Your father wasn’t just special. He was one of a kind. There will never be another. I had them neuter her.”
“What?”
“She’s kept under constant sedation. That’s the only way they can keep her contained. She never knew the pregnancy happened. The cost was astronomical, but it was worth it.”
“That’s horrible. You are horrible.”
“I am.”
She sipped her tea.
“Your father was a triple carrier. His own magic failed to express, which was expected. I never held that against him. I had enough magic for us both. His real value was in the children he would produce. I always had faith that the genes would sort themselves out. But to do that, to be a successor, he had to be shaped and molded. There were lessons he had to learn. Practical, useful lessons that would keep him alive after I was gone. He hated them, and he hated me for teaching them.”
Considering what I just heard, those lessons wouldn’t have been the gentle kind. “He left.”
“He did. I underestimated him. He kept his spine so well-hidden. I pushed and pushed, expecting him to learn or break, but he did neither. He planned his escape and executed it so well that even all of my power couldn’t find him. I was so proud. My son had outsmarted me. I should’ve expected it, but I was so focused on making sure he survived. I had so much to teach and I was in a hurry.”
“You’re a monster,” I told her.
“An abomination. I believe that’s the preferred term.”
I flinched. She smiled again.
“I see you’ve run into it.”
“I can’t believe you did that.”
“I would do it again.”
“What?”
“Look how wonderful it turned out. James made not one but three—three!—children. All of them Primes. He did so well. House Tremaine will go on. All I have to do is convince you to see things my way. And we’ve just established that I can be very convincing. What will it take, Nevada?”
“The answer is still no.”
“You will do as I say.” The power of her magic clamped me. I shrugged it off.
“No, I won’t.”
Victoria laughed. She actually laughed. “You’re everything I ever wanted.”
My phone chimed. I checked it. A text from Bern. Get out of there.
I jumped to my feet.
Five men walked into the restaurant, guns drawn. “On the floor,” the lead one ordered. The hostess dropped down. On my left, the two chefs behind the sushi bar hit the floor.
“Hands where I can see them,” the leader ordered.
They hadn’t fired, so they wanted me alive. I held my hands up and glared at Victoria. “Really?”
She was looking past me at the men. “What is the meaning of this?”
“Alexander says he’s sorry,” the lead man said. “He needs the girl. This is for the cause. He said you would understand.”
“Oh no, my dears,” my grandmother said. “This isn’t about the cause. This is about family.”
Magic snapped out of her. When I clamped people with my will, my magic turned into a vise, a net that smothered and bound them. Victoria turned hers into a blade and stabbed the leader with it. He cried out, a weak fading sound, his eyes rolled back into his skull, and he collapsed.
I jerked my Baby Desert Eagle out.
In the same instant, the man to the left of the leader yelped and clawed at his eyes. The man on the right fell to his knees and hit his head on the floor.
I got off four shots before I realized the two remaining targets stood completely still. My bullets ripped into their chests. Slowly, they toppled over. Five dead bodies lay on the floor. There was nobody left to kill.
Someone shoved me from behind. I stumbled forward. The sound of shattering glass cut at my ears, impossibly loud. I swung right, toward the broken window. A man stood with his rifle up, taking another shot. A Ford Explorer exploded out of the parking lot and smashed into him. The shooter went down, a rag doll under the wheels. Bern drove over him, his face bloodless, reversed and backed over the body.
I turned to Victoria. A dark wet stain spread through Victoria’s shoulder. She’d pushed me out of the way. The bullet with my name on it had torn into her instead.
“You need an ambulance.”
She grimaced. “I’ll be fine. I have a private physician.”
“You’ll bleed out. You need paramedics now.” I grabbed my phone to dial 911. “Why did you do it?”
“Because you’re my granddaughter, you idiot.”
My phone died. What the hell, I had fully charged it in the car . . .
“Wait . . .” Victoria turned pale, looking at something past me.
I glanced over my shoulder. A darkness spread through the restaurant, expanding from the entrance, climbing over the walls, claiming the space. An ancient darkness that took me into its maw and made me still.
Michael from the Office of Records walked into the restaurant. He still wore the sharp suit and a crisp shirt, blindingly white against his tattooed neck. His hands burned with blue fire.
