Breaker (Ondine Quartet Book 4) (49 page)

Brigette let go of my arm. My eyes caught hers.
 

“We all make choices, Kendra.” Her face reflected resigned serenity. “Tell my son I loved him.”

A crash cleaved through the air as the shelves fell. She slammed the hatch shut.
 

“No!”

Each sound was distinct. Unmistakable.

First, the scrape of the desk being moved back over the hatch.

Then the unmistakeable crack of the door bursting open.

“Brigette!”

There was nothing but a swarm of dark magic, suffocating energy overwhelming the space above us.

I scrabbled at the hatch, my fingers clawing at the metal.

“No. Brigette!”

So many of them, their blood sweeping the floor above us, feet scrabbling against the concrete.

Someone pulled me back.

“She did it to save you!” Tristan’s voice was harsh, ragged. “We need to go!”

I uselessly fought as he dragged me into the darkness.

A baby’s wail echoed through the tunnel, the inconsolable sound of a child crying ceaselessly for the safe warmth of his mother’s arms.

THIRTY

The attack on Lyondale Hospital and what happened at Silk meant two continuous days of no sleep. The night had been spent locked in the clinic with Daniel breathing down my neck for the injuries I’d sustained.

Apparently, my knee was now permanently screwed.

Fine. I could beat the pain, work around it. I’d spent all my life doing that.

Then, I’d spent the morning dealing with the fallout from Patrice and the Council, attempting to explain how the hell the last Clairvoyant was killed while under the protection of the
sondaleur
and Warrior Prince.

Another battle, another fight.

But what I’d just found out wasn’t something I could argue, punch, carve, or grit my way out of.

And I was not in the mood for one more second of bullshit.

I marched up the dirt trail. Every inch of my body hurt. Muscles and bones creaked and cracked in protest.

I shoved open the door and barged into the cottage.

“You knew.”

She sat near the tiny window in the kitchenette, the usual cigarette dangling between her fingers. Milky sunlight filtered through the dirty panes, dampening the natural shine of her silvery long hair.

“Knew what, dear?” Nexa said calmly.

Grief and regret choked me. “You knew what Brigette was going to do.”

An hour ago, Jeeves had read her will. She’d given custody of Nathaniel to me.

Me.
 

An eighteen-year-old ondine with no income, family, or prospects. A chevalier on probation and the person most likely to be kidnapped, tortured, maimed, or killed.
 

Nexa blew out a ring of smoke. “Yes.”

“When did she know?” I moved forward.

Because Brigette had known. She
knew
she wasn’t coming out of Silk.

And that I would.

Nexa looked at me. “Around the time of Rhian’s death.”

They’d lied. They’d both sat here, in this shitty kitchenette with me, watched
Restless Passions,
and pretended they didn’t know.
 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I managed.

Nexa turned to me, her face drawn and weary, and looking older than I’d ever seen her. “What would you have done if I had?”

“Stopped her!” I threw my hands up. “Kept her alive!”

“That would change nothing —“

“How can you say that? Nathaniel would still have his mother!”

“A mother and child who’d both continue to be in danger because the war has not ended!” Nexa rose. “Brigette had a vision. If she did not sacrifice herself in that moment, you would’ve died. It was her or you. For her, this choice was made a long time ago.”

I slumped against the wall.
 

She came to me. One day her child would need my help and she wanted me to promise I’d give it.

“My mother knew.”

I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. But all I could manage to do was wrap my arms around my stomach.

Everything hurt, ragged as if a beast had jumped inside and shredded my heart to pieces.

I was sick of all of it. Of how many had to die because they believed in a prophecy, in some fleeting hope that may not even exist.

“Naida has always seen the long arc of this war.”

What else had she known? What else did Nexa know? What did Brigette see?

“I got the nix. Scabbard.” I glanced at her. “He said the attacks weren’t about the what or why.”

Nexa shook her head. “I do not know what these messages from the Shadow mean. They are meant for you, not for me.”

“I sent one of the turning blades back to the Armicant to be destroyed. The Shadow only has one left.”

“One is all he needs,” she murmured.

I narrowed my eyes. “What else did Brigette see? Did she see how I was going to end this war?”

She didn’t reply. My stomach churned with betrayal.

“If you know something, why won’t you tell me?”

Nexa poured a glass of scotch. Her hand shook slightly.

The last is found in the first.

You are the first and last.

Everything came down to the Irisavies.

“At least tell me if my family knew —“

“Yes.” Her response was so quiet I almost didn’t catch it.
 

I sat because my legs were too shaky to hold me.

“Naida and Rhian knew.”

Anguish rose. So many lies choking me. “If you’ve always known how this will end, why haven’t you told me?

“Because I cannot!” Nexa whipped around, her hair crackling with power. “The ending has not yet been written.”

I slammed my hand on the table and jumped out of my seat. Rage pumped through me.

“How can you keep this from me? ”

“I cannot tell you —“

“You mean you won’t tell!“

“I cannot!” Her eyes widened, her skin turning white. She clutched her chest.

“Nexa?”

She fell forward. My arms caught her just before she hit the ground.

“Nexa!”

A snap of energy, a current raced between us, almost identical to the sensation I’d felt when Brigette touched me. It was as if magic crackled between us.
 

I pulled her into my lap and checked her pulse. It fluttered slightly, then settled back into a strong, steady rhythm.

“It’s all right,” she whispered. “A moment, please.”

I gently lay her on the floor and ran to the sink to fill a glass of water.

I brought it over and she took a slow sip. Relieved, I saw the color slowly return to her face.

“You need to see a Healer. Maybe Daniel, too —”

She shook her head. “This is not something that can be healed.”

“At least have them look at you in case —“

“Kendra.” A warm hand rested on my wrist. “It was just a touch of magic.”

“Like a magical heart attack?”

She chuckled. “I suppose one could call it that. Now, help an old woman up.”

I wrapped an arm around her waist and gently pulled her up.
 

“I still think you should see someone —“

“I’m fine.” She settled into a chair and sighed. “You deserve the truth, Kendra.”

“But you can’t tell me it.”
 

She shook her head.

Magic. That current I’d felt had been a part of it.

Maybe that was why Brigette couldn’t tell me the entire truth. Only a phrase, another riddle like all the others that had taunted me so far.

The last is found in the first.

I’d initially thought it was obvious. The Irisavies were the first ondines on land, and as the one tasked with ending this war, the meaning seemed pretty clear.

But what if it wasn’t?

“Is there something preventing you from telling me?” I asked carefully.

She didn’t reply. I had my answer. Some kind of magic was preventing them from sharing the whole truth.

“Where do I start?”

She might not be able to tell me everything, but even pointing in the right direction would help.

“Where all truth starts. The beginning.” She leaned back in her chair. “Do you remember our first lesson?”

She hadn’t even bothered to show up, leaving only a cryptic message beside a bowl.

“Find yourself in the water.”

“The greatest power often lies in the things we overlook because of its normalcy, its simplicity. But these are the ties that bind us. The silence after a thunderstorm. The first breath in the morning. A mother’s hug. A friend’s advice.” She looked at me. “Find yourself in the water, dear. Start with what and who you know.”

In the middle of all of this, I’d forgotten what it was that I wanted to fight for.

The Shadow had become an all-consuming obsession, the desire to end the war an objective.

But when I’d first arrived, it hadn’t been that way. There were other things I needed to protect.

I had to remember not just what I was fighting for, but also who.

I wandered back to the Academy. Classes had ended an hour ago and students milled about the Quad, taking advantage of the warm weather.
 

Memories flooded me and I allowed myself a moment to sink in them. The corner where Ryder and I met to sneak into the demillir dorms. The bench outside the ondine dorms where Julian first spoke to me.
 

I wandered through the woods. The chevalier post where Julian and Tristan had both challenged my views on who I was.

And somehow, when I stepped through the tree line, I knew she’d be there.

She sat on the sand, arms wrapped around her knees, facing the ocean. When I’d first arrived, they’d thrown a bonfire party for me here.
 

Sneaking out of dorm rooms, flipping off teachers, and making out while sneaking in booze and cigarettes had been the highlight of their weekends.

That night now seemed an eternity ago.

I took off my shoes and joined her on the sand. The weather had gradually warmed, a shift so subtle it was almost unnoticeable.

“I was thinking about that night we partied out here,” she finally said. “It was the first time I thought Cam and I might have a thing.”

“I remember that.” I stretched my legs out in front of me. “That fire must have had its own kind of magic.”

“It feels like such a long time ago.” Her voice quieted. “How did everything change so much?”

I had no answer.

The sun was beginning its descent. Pink rays reached down to the ocean and I thought of Eric and Tristan as children, brothers staring at the sunset, their proof that another day had passed and another would come.

“Are you really taking in Brigette’s son?”

I exhaled. “I don’t know.”

I was pretty sure someone on her side of the family would contest it soon and I’d have no problem with passing Nathaniel over.
 

But it was so strange she’d given me custody in the first place. Why?

“Blaise said you and Prince Belicoux were amazing last night.”
 

“It was because he and Ethan were there. And Todd saved our asses, too. He knows about us.”

“Really?” She looked at me. “Were his parents Rogue?”

“Nope. He’s one hundred percent human.” Sharp as hell, too. “And Aubrey didn’t tell him, either.”

“So how did he find out?”

I shrugged. “Said he’d always had an interest in the supernatural and figured it out on his own.”

It was that simple. Sometimes, people just had to look a little harder to see the magic in the world around them.

The edges of the sky smudged, the pink lavender darkening to a deeper purple.

“The Governor announced she’s canceling our training program.”

Whatever Patrice said or did, I was not going to let the program fail.

“It won’t end, Chlo. I promise.”

A long pause. Maybe she didn’t believe me.

“Cam told me what really happened,” she finally said.
 

It was inevitable. Cam had the biggest mouth out of all us.

I leaned back on my hands. “Did you tell Aubrey?”

“It’s not my place to tell.” She paused. “Why didn’t you say anything about what Ian had done to you?”

“Because that’s not how I wanted everyone to remember him. I knew him, Chlo. And that wasn’t him.”

Who he was at the end was so far from who he’d been.

Ian had spent his life caring for those too weak to defend themselves - animals, children, those stepped on by power and privilege.

Who he was in room 319 was a being deprived of all hope, of everything but his worst nightmares and fears.

The possibility of me exists in every mortal.

The Shadow was right. We turned into terrible creatures without light.
 

“When I first found out my mom had turned, I went through this period where I pretended it didn’t really happen. Because no matter how much I thought about it, I couldn’t understand how my own mother could’ve become that.” Chloe paused. “I wish you’d known her before she turned, Kendra. I wish you’d gotten to know the real her because she was amazing.”

I wrapped my arms around my knees and turned my head to look at her.

The sun danced against her, gold threading through her hair, gently coloring the planes of her face so that she looked as if she glowed from within.

She was beautiful.

“For a long time, I couldn’t talk about her. Not just because everyone thought she was a traitor, but because I was afraid. I didn’t want to be her. I was ashamed, as if her mistake, her weaknesses, had become mine.”

This was what I was afraid of. That she would carry the guilt of killing her father, just as she’d borne the weight of Miriam’s betrayal.

“Chlo, about your dad —”

“You did everything you could. It’s how you are, Kendra. It wasn’t your mistake.”

“It’s not yours, either.”

“I know.” She sighed. “Most people will probably only remember my parents by who they were at the end. But I remember other important things. Like Mom’s kindness. How she gave the best hugs. How my dad used to laugh with his whole body, so that his belly shook. To me, they are more. Do you know what I mean?”

I nodded.