Breaker (Ondine Quartet Book 4) (38 page)

“You found me.”

He looks at the bracelet encircling my wrist. The dark red glows like a bonfire of blood.

“You did not take that with you.” His growl is quiet. Hurt.

I shake my head. “It did not belong with me.”

“It belongs to you.”

“Yes. But sometimes I have to leave a part of me behind to find the part of me I need.”

TWENTY-FOUR

A few days after we returned, Ian’s remains were scattered off Haverleau’s northwest bluff at sunrise. Pale pink and orange rays had stretched across the waters, gently welcoming him into their arms.

The entire corps had attended, not because they wanted to, but because presence was mandatory at any chevalier funeral.

The majority were deeply resentful that a nix had received both an honorary title and burial and it’d cost Julian the few remaining supporters he had left.

He hadn’t seemed to care. Quiet and unusually somber, he’d stood beside me, Cam, Alex, and the others.

Aside from Tristan and Jeeves, the only other elementals in attendance had been Helene, Aubrey, Chloe, and Amber.
 

None of them spoke to me.

I made my way up the familiar dirt trail leading to the bluffs. Dawn had arrived, the sun’s edges tipping over the horizon and alighting the path.

A shadow flickered at the corner of my eye.

Ray, like Holden and the others, had returned. Under the emergency statute I passed before going Rogue, nixes were now permitted sanctuary in Haverleau. Nanette Desmarais had taken them into her home, showering them with much needed food and grandmotherly attention.

He tracked me almost everywhere but had yet to speak to me. Scabbard now hung between us like a ghostly link. He’d approach when he was ready.

Ahead, a cluster of rocks huddled at the base of trees along the forest’s edge. The terrain changed here, the dirt road dissipating into the surrounding fields, tree line growing sparser, and grass giving way to the rockier ground of the bluff.

A slender figure in purple sneakers, a gray cardigan, and faded jeans balanced on a rock.
 

“Helene?”

She hopped off, the edge of her cardigan snapping around her.
 

“Hey,” she said, listless.

Straight, blonde hair hung limply around her face.

Seeing her here was the equivalent of seeing Dax in the Academy cafeteria. It didn’t quite compute.

“What are you doing out here?”

She shrugged. “Wasn’t able to sleep. Been here for a few hours.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“Few weeks.”

“Why am I just hearing about it now?”

She shrugged and settled cross-legged on the rock. “You’ve been gone.”

Helene hadn’t even crossed my mind when I left.
 

The cold objectivity with which I’d made my decision sent a shiver down my spine.
 

It was something my mother would’ve done.

“I was thinking of doing a documentary on Haverleau.” She paused. “But Dax showed me this technique of looking at the sun and breathing in the mornings when I can’t sleep. Said it was better for me than following people with my camera again.”

“I’m sorry you’ve been feeling this way.”
 

“It comes and goes. I’m glad you’re back, though.” She studied me, her eyes intent. “Are you glad you’re back?”

I gave her the simplest answer I could. “Sure.”

“Even when Aubrey’s so mad at you?”

“Helene —“

“Did you really kill Ian?”
 

Oh God.

I could lie. I could protect her from what I’d done.

Or I could tell her the truth.

Fear ate at me. I didn’t want to make the wrong choice.

I settled beside her. “How’s your training going?”
 

“I can reload and shoot faster than Michael. I’m second only to Chloe now.” She looked at me. “So did you?”

“Yes.”

If she was willing to train and prepare for battle, to risk her life and fight in this war, then she deserved the whole truth.

Silence fell while she considered what I’d admitted.

“You must feel awful about it,” she finally said.

I forced out a response. “Yeah.”

“Did you hate him?”

Startled, I pulled back. “Of course not. Why would you think that?”

“You didn’t kill him because you were mad at him?”

What will happen to Mr. MacAllister now that he has broken your body and bled you?

I remembered when my fingers gripped my dagger in the darkened bathroom.

I’d been angry at him for what he did, for failing to recognize me.

It was an anger stemming from an irrational disappointment. Some part of me had genuinely wished my friend had been strong enough to withstand whatever torture they’d inflicted on him.

In that moment, I’d wanted Ian to be someone he wasn’t.

But it wasn’t what stayed with me at the end.

“Ian was in a great deal of pain,” I said slowly. “And he wasn’t going to survive. I didn’t want him to suffer any longer than he had to.”

“But Aubrey’s mad that he’s gone. Mad at you.”

I kept my face blank. “She lost someone important to her. She’s angry he was taken away from her.”

“But you didn’t have a choice, right?” Helene turned to me, her eyes bright. “Right, Kendra?”

Her insistence reflected more than simple curiosity. “Helene, what’s wrong?”

“I hated Renee,” she said miserably as if she were admitting a horrible secret. “I was so mad…after.”

“For leaving?”

“For
choosing
to leave.” She picked up a small rock and tossed it into the trees. “She could’ve stayed.”

Loneliness permeated her her voice, the inflection like an unfinished song.

“Would you have wanted that for her?” I asked gently. “To stay with someone for the rest of her life because she had to?“

Her mouth pressed together. “No.”
 

“Helene —“

She stood and rubbed her eyes. “Aubrey is bringing over new weapons to the Training Center later today.”

I accepted her change in subject. “Yeah?”

“Maybe you can come, too.”

“Maybe.” I wasn’t sure how welcome I’d be.

“Mom will be there. She’s arriving in a few hours.” She looked down, scuffed the ground. “She heard you were back and wanted to see you.”

Her fingers tapped out a nervous rhythm on her thigh. She was trying to get me to go.
 

Her deliberately nonchalant expression suddenly reminded me of Renee.
 

“Okay. I’ll drop by.”

A wide grin broke out on her face. She bounded down the hill, her hair a pale gold in the misty morning air.

Smiling, I headed up to Nexa’s cottage. More paint had peeled off the exterior since my last visit. A crisp wind carried the rumble and salt of the sea.

I raised my hand to knock on the door and paused.

Usually, silence or the faint murmur of the television greeted me.

Today, I heard laughter.

I tried the door. Unlocked.

“Hello?”
 

“We’re in here, dear.” Nexa’s raspy voice drifted from the back.

A few voices I recognized buzzed alongside hers.

No way.

I raced into the kitchenette. Familiar figures flashed across the television mounted on the wall, followed by scrolling credits.

“You watched without me?” I asked, incredulous.

I couldn’t believe it. Nexa always recorded
Restless Passions
so we could watch it together during our magic sessions.

“Oh, it’s not the finale, Kendra. I was just catching up on the past few episodes of this season,” a voice said.

I slowly turned.

This had to be some kind of alternate reality because not only had Nexa been watching
Restless Passions
without me, she’d been watching it with someone else.
 

Someone who also happened to be sitting in my usual spot.

While munching on my favorite brand of potato chips.

“You’re here,” I said to no one in particular.

Brigette’s gaze flickered from Nexa to me and her smile faded slightly. “Is something wrong?”

Of course Nexa had other guests. I’d just gotten so used to cleaning the dust and mess around her cottage by myself that I’d assumed she had no other visitors besides me and Julian.

Nexa waved her hand, cigarette smoke dancing around her. “Are you all right, dear? You look a little pale.”

I grabbed a stool, dragged it over to the table, and sat.
 

The height was all wrong and I ended up being shorter than both of them.

“I’m fine,” I said with as much dignity as possible.

“You’re just in time for the final episode,” Brigette said cheerfully.
 

I tried not to scowl. If I hadn’t shown up, would they have watched it without me?

I turned, trying to find a comfortable position on the stool.

For the next forty-five minutes, we watched the ridiculous characters I’d secretly grown addicted to parade their outrageous lives on screen for one last time.

But as the plot points resolved, I felt an increasing sense of resentment.

I wasn’t getting the answers I wanted.

My incredulity grew. No, it couldn’t be.

By the time the credits rolled for the last time, incredulity had bloomed into full-blown anger.

“That. Sucked.”
 

Nexa clicked off the television. “I thought it was rather clever.”

“Are you kidding me?”
 

Brigette raised her brow, but said nothing.

I spread my arms. “Am I the only one that sees how that wasn’t an ending?”

Nexa took a sip of scotch. “Why not? It brought the episode to a close and alluded to everyone in Bryn Falls moving forward with their lives.”

“But I need to know.”

Brigette tilted her head. “Know what?”

“Everyone’s endings!” I crossed my arms. “Is Althea going to marry Ronald? What happens after Marisol gets out of jail? Does Sara leave her boyfriend and go to college to become an artist?”

I wanted to know if everything they went through - Marisol’s divorces, Sara’s kidnapping and subsequent rescue, Ronald’s loss of his daughter in that tragic fire - had purpose.

If they were able to find something to move forward to after everything was done.

“Maybe we’re not meant to know.” Brigette’s eyes were soft.
 

“Answers do not come as easily as questions.” Nexa poured herself another drink. “And expecting someone to give you all the answers is as foolish as expecting yourself to have all of them.”

“The Shadow only gave me more questions.”

They taunted my dreams, trailing behind me like the darkness in GrandView’s boiler room.

I had no answers to any of them.

A papery warmth skimmed the surface of my hand.
 

Surprised, I glanced down.

Nexa’s wrinkled hand covered mine. “The only questions important enough to answer are the ones that mean something to you.”

I squeezed her hand lightly and nodded.

Satisfied, she pulled away and sipped her drink. “What is the question you wish to answer?”

I didn’t want to know how to end this war. I didn’t want to know how many others would suffer or die as a result of it.

I only wanted the answer to the one question that would make all others irrelevant.

“I want to know how to kill him.”

Nexa nodded. “What are your ideas so far?”

“Find a weapon that works. My dagger, magic, and
kouperet
all have no effect on him.” I transferred my gaze to Brigette. “I’m also waiting on you.”

“You shouldn’t,” she said cautiously. “We don’t know if I’ll see anything.”

I sighed. “Like bindings.”

“What?”

“Clairvoyance reminds me of Redavi arranged bindings. They’re meant to be for the greater good, but ultimately the person involved has no control or choice over any of it and their purpose is debatable.”
 

“Oh, I don’t know about that.”

“Didn’t you bind with someone outside your family to avoid an arrangement?”

She laughed. “Well, yes, but I think arranged bindings can have their own purpose. Family doesn’t always form from love or blood. Sometimes, they can be forged out of necessity.”

I shook my head. “I don’t see it.”

“It’s about making compromises for larger goals,” Brigette said. “I’m sure you understand that.”

I did. There were a lot of things I was willing to do to achieve something. Lie, cheat, steal, manipulate.

But I couldn’t imagine bartering someone’s life for financial, political, or social gain.
 

Brigette studied the bag of chips. “These are good.”

“Yeah, they are,” I muttered. She’d eaten the last one.

“Nexa, do you have…” She reached over and grabbed a pen and notepad from the counter.

Brigette wrote the brand name and flavor in a curvy, elegant script. “I’ll grab a few more when I go shopping.”

Nexa lit another cigarette. “Don’t forget my stuff.”

Brigette added in a carton of cigarettes and Nexa’s favorite scotch.

My mother had also written with a similar kind of precise deliberation.

“Nice handwriting.”

“Thanks.” She squinted at the note. “Clairvoyants are taught penmanship so we can properly record prophecies.”
 

Given the way things were going, she may not have the chance to use it during her lifetime.

I looked at Nexa. “If I can’t find a weapon and if she doesn’t have a prophecy, how am I supposed to end him?”

She exhaled, a ring of smoke wafting around her. “Water hardens and cracks during the winter, fades and rises to the sky in the summer, and falls back to the earth in the spring. Water changes. But it never disappears. It’s never erased.”

Fear dripped down my spine. “You think he can’t be killed.”

You cannot destroy me, Kendra.

“The dark is as necessary as the light. It cannot be eliminated completely, but imbalances can be fixed.”
 

Brigette nodded. “Stopping him doesn’t necessarily mean killing him.”