Bound by Prophecy (Descendants Series) (10 page)

“Where to?” the driver asked, barely glancing at us as Emily slid into the back seat.

“Harper’s Park, please.”

His eyes met mine in the rear view mirror and I could see the corners wrinkle up with a knowing smile. Harper’s had a reputation, it was a famed makeout spot for the city kids with no place to meet up. I wagged my eyebrows at him and draped an arm over the seat behind Emily.

It was only then that I noticed her staring incredulously at the exchange. I grinned and shrugged my free shoulder as if to say,
Cloak-and-dagger, baby
. She rolled her eyes.

We drove through the city in silence, Emily studying every car at every street, tensing each time we were passed. I couldn’t tell if she was anxious to finally be this close to Brianna, or if it was the Division.

I touched the gold satin of her jacket to get her attention. “Will it help if I tell you she’s fine?”

“No,” she said. “I just have to see for myself.”

“A few hours,” I promised, and she took a deep breath.

When the cab pulled up to the curb at Harper’s, I drew Emily out behind me and slid my hand through the side window as if I were passing a folded bill to the driver. “Keep the change,” I said offhandedly, using my sway to convince him the bill was actually there.

Emily was inspecting the park during the exchange, and when I straightened to let the cab pull away, I slipped a hand on her lower back and ushered her through one of the gates. It was far from a casual stroll, but we kept pace with the other park inhabitants so as not draw any undue attention. Birds chirped, picnickers lounged, and a few cyclists spun past as we silently made our way across the park. Sunlight dappled the walkway, broken only by the shadow of cottonwood leaves. The path turned over a low bridge and two geese drifted slowly beneath us. It was all wrong.

Emily walked beside me, hands shoved in her jacket pockets, eyes pinched at the corners. Clearly, she wasn’t feeling the peaceful atmosphere, either.

We came out of the park on the south side of Grant Street. The sidewalk was lined with vendors setting up for the afternoon rush. It was here that I rented the scooter.

“No,” Emily said as I passed her the half helmet and goggles.

“They’ll help disguise you.”

“Not that.” She shoved the proffered helmet aside and pointed at the scooter. “That.”

I shook my head and threw a leg over the tiny red machine. “Women.”

“What—” she stammered. “Did you just—”

I smiled.

She narrowed her eyes and yanked the helmet out of my hands. I had to look away when she shoved it down over all that hair and her vicious glare disappeared behind dark goggles. She muttered something nasty when she wrapped her arms around my chest and realized I was laughing, but I couldn’t hear it over the tinny rev of the engine as we sped away.

Normally, a moped was not an ideal getaway car. But as we slipped quickly between traffic and down alleys, I was sure even Emily had forgiven the unusual selection. There was a festival on Sixth and Market Street, and the area was crowded with pedestrians. I felt Emily’s grip tighten on my chest, and took us two blocks south before heading back toward our destination. We walked the final three blocks to the Carlson hotel after leaving the scooter leaned against a café railing.

At the Carlson, we entered through the parking garage to walk out the front doors of the hotel as guests. We didn’t look the part, but no one argued as we slid into one of the waiting town cars.

“Fordham Heights,” I instructed the driver, not missing the sidelong glance Emily gave me. She must know the place, and there was no question she was surprised at the direction our journey was headed. I figured it best to get it all out of the way now.

“Aside from our discussion earlier,” I asked, “what do you know of our friends?”

She stared at me blankly for a moment, and then swallowed. “Not much.”

I nodded. “One more thing you should know, that you should expect, is that they’ve been very successful.”

“You mean…”

“Their special insight into the business world, their relationship with powerful people, it has allowed them to garner ample property, funds, and the like.”

She quirked one brow at my talking in code, but it fell when she realized what I was telling her. The Division used their sway to cheat and steal their way to riches. And then she glanced at my days-old shirt, still no worse for wear, the cut of my jeans.

“It’s another value we don’t share,” I said. “I earn what I have.” Aside from the last few days, I thought. But Morgan hadn’t given me much choice.

“I didn’t…”

I waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it. I just want you to understand. To know what to expect. The rest of us don’t use our advantage for arrangements, we’re honest businessmen.”

“All of you?” Emily whispered.

I sighed. “We were. It seems both sides are now led by the selfish, their greed and want for power.” I spun the ring on my middle finger. “Morals are not a tool for war.”

Emily smiled. It was just the tiniest rise of her lips and it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, but it was a smile. “You sound like my sensei,” she said.

The driver dropped us at Fordham Heights and we walked toward the train station. Emily questioned my methods, but realized quickly that any pursuers would be easier to spot if they’d managed to follow us through so many different routes.

“Council trained us how to respond,” I said. “All of us. And so we can’t use those techniques. We have to decide on the spur of the moment, be as unpredictable as possible.”

“Sorry,” she said. “I’m just anxious to see Brianna.” She glanced down the stairwell. “And I hate trains.”

I smiled. “Me too, but that’s not where we’re headed.”

There wasn’t much else around Fordham, no taxis, no bike rentals. She looked up at me, brows raised. “It’s not?”

I spun her toward the street, where a black limousine waited curbside. “Nope.” And then I leaned in to whisper in her ear, “And it’s bulletproof. Like a tank.”

She smiled, and this time it was for real.

Chapter Twelve

Reunions

The ride to the estate was brief, and Emily sat eagerly beside me peering out the tinted glass. When the driver slowed to turn into a security gate, she squeezed the crook of my arm. It wasn’t until we’d passed through and began to spot the gardens and outbuildings that I realized she wasn’t letting go.

It was hard not to be impressed by the white, marble-columned mansion, somehow both stately and modern at once. The design was timeless, materials priceless, and Emily barely seemed to notice. A security guard opened the door as we came to a stop, and Emily climbed over me to push by him.

As soon as her feet hit the pavement, she was running for the house. She didn’t even notice the red Ferrari on her way past, or the four guards in Armani suits placed outside the main door. But it didn’t matter, because as soon as she’d reached the top step, Brianna came running toward her.

They hit with a practiced familiarity, and held each other for several long breaths before Emily’s hands moved to grab Brianna’s shoulders and push her back, just far enough to glare at her. I’d made it within earshot when Brianna whispered, “It was the only way.”

I could see the tension slowly leave Emily’s shoulders. And then Brianna reached a hand up to cup her sister’s cheek. “Em, you slept.” Emily eased out of the embrace a little more and Brianna laughed. “And what are you wearing?”

Emily glared at her. “I didn’t have a lot of time to prepare.”

Brianna smiled sweetly. “You know I have some things for you.”

“You always do,” Emily said, sliding free of the hug to finally take in her surroundings.

From the open door, Brendan smiled past the reunion to me. “Good to have you back, brother. We weren’t sure a time or two.” Emily stiffened at the remark, but it was only a meaningless word, meant to secure our bond, and no doubt a surreptitious jab at Morgan.

I nodded toward him in acknowledgement, but before I could respond, Brianna was rushing me.

“Aern,” she gushed. “Thank you for keeping her safe.” I smiled, but Brianna had gripped my arms while speaking, and she noticed the partially healed cuts marking them. She said, “Oh, Aern, you’re hurt.”

Emily had the decency to look chagrined, but when I smiled at her, she narrowed her eyes, daring me to tell.

“It’s nothing,” I told Brianna.

She ran her hands over my arms, and I wondered at how thin and pale she seemed. It might have just been that I’d gotten used to Emily, that her vitality had exaggerated the difference between the two, but I couldn’t remember thinking Brianna had looked anything but slim before.

Brendan cleared his throat. “Maybe we should continue this reunion inside.”

Brianna rolled her eyes and smiled at me before turning to face him. “They’ll need some food and hot tea. I’ll take Emily up for a bath, you should have hers served to my room. Something light, I’m sure they’ve had a rough morning.”

Brendan’s mouth tightened, but he bent his head in acquiescence.

As the girls walked through the door, his eyes narrowed at my silent laughter. I shook my head. “I take it she’s figured out she’s useful to you.”

“No thanks to you, I’m sure,” he muttered.

I scratched my stomach. “Fetch my tea, Brendan. I’ll be in the bath.” His elbow caught me in the ribcage as we crossed the threshold and I couldn’t help but laugh.

Emily glanced over her shoulder at the noise, and our eyes stayed locked as she climbed the last few stairs on Brianna’s arm. I sighed. It was probably the last time I’d see that gold silk jacket.

Chapter Thirteen

Healing

The Division had set up a suite of rooms for me at three of their most frequented houses. This one however, was the smallest and safest, and as such not normally filled with eight of their top men. Brendan had offered me a better room, but I’d chosen an empty one close to Brianna and Emily.

Not that it was lacking. A king-size bed lay centered among a space twice the size of our last hotel room, all cream and black, clean and classic. The walls were bare aside from a small metal sculpture between the walk-in closet and the private bath. I kicked off my shoes at the end of the bed and walked over plush cream carpet to the bathroom, which could be called nothing but opulent. No doubt the stone was imported and hand-carved, glass surrounds custom and one of a kind. I shook my head and tossed my dirty shirt onto the counter.

As I reached for the faucet, I noticed the skin of my forearm appeared too smooth. It had, only a short time ago, still bore the raised pink lines of a jagged half-healed cut. But now, without sleep, the wound was all but gone. I squinted against the dim mood lighting in the shower room, and drew the arm closer. And then I winced, because my shoulder had apparently not had time to heal. I rubbed a hand over my face and turned the shower on full and hot before dropping both arms to tilt my head back and just stand there in the spray.

It must have been an hour later when I finally lay down. I had come out of the shower to find sandwiches and hot tea waiting on the bureau, as well as a clean set of clothes. I had pulled the jeans on while I ate, and then fell into bed, shirtless and sock-footed, to at last get the sleep I needed for my shoulder to heal.

So I was feeling better by the time movement in my room woke me. I didn’t have to open my eyes to know it was Emily.

I lay on top of a satin duvet, not having bothered with removing the mass of pillows at the head of the bed, face down with one arm slung over the side. She leaned over, holding her breath as she scrutinized the results of her handiwork on my arm. But the wounds would be undetectable by now.

“You shouldn’t sneak up on people while they’re sleeping,” I said, snatching her wrist as she gasped and tried to jerk back from me.

She froze, free hand pressed to her heaving chest, and stared at me, wide-eyed. I pulled her closer. “What are you doing, Emily?”

She swallowed. “I was just… Sorry, I’ll go.”

I dragged her arm with me as I rolled to my back, forcing her to either perch awkwardly on the edge of the bed, or climb over me and stay. She chose the latter, carefully stepping clear of me to sit cross-legged by my hip.

“Where’s Brianna?” I asked.

“Asleep.”

“And you weren’t tired?”

Emily bit her lip. “I can’t really sleep.” She glanced down at my bare torso, then quickly away, scanning the room for anything else to look at.

I released her arm. And then, recalling what Brianna had said at their reunion, asked, “You don’t sleep much?”

“Hardly ever,” she said, eyes coming back to me as I lay so similarly to the way I had in the hotel when she’d settled into my chest and slept through the night. “I’ve never been able to, not for more than an hour or so at a time.”

Surely that had nothing to do with her mother training her to keep watch over her sister, telling her someone was after her, that she had to keep her safe.