Dawning of Light (27 page)

Just as she was about to place her foot onto the top step, a figure suddenly appeared before her, glaring down at her and causing her heart to race at double time.

“Miguel!” She gasped, startled at having been caught.

“I knew I couldn’t trust you,” he snarled. “I should never have taken your parents’ money. You haven’t been worth it from the beginning.” With no warning whatsoever, he shoved her with both hands. As Carley went stumbling down the steps, her screams were swallowed in the whirling wind.

* * * *

Miguel turned his back and trudged through the snow, not toward the beach house, but toward the woods, where he intended to meet up with others from the Chosen One’s faction. They were waiting, he knew, for direction from their leader. The true leader, not the king, who wasn’t even a real leader anyway. Everyone talked of how he no longer made decisions, how he was just a figurehead, and always deferred to the shifters to decide how lightbearers should run their own lives. It was disgusting. The Chosen One would never allow a shifter to make his decisions. The Chosen One would kill the shifter instead.

Something big was going down tonight. Miguel knew it. He wanted to be a part of it. He wanted to be with his leader, the great Chosen One.

And then maybe when it was done, he’d finally take advantage of that hot young follower who’d been eyeing him for some time now. Especially now that he no longer had a mate to hold him back.

Finn watched the house from his perch amongst the boughs of a pine tree, well hidden from view. Not that he really needed to hide. He was shaped as a bird, and lightbearers did not have the same sense of recognition of shifters as his own kind did. They would recognize him as a shifter when he was in human form, of course, but when he took the form of a bird, or any other animal for that matter, most would have no clue.

The house had been quiet for quite a long time, but Finn was a smart tracker, and he waited until he was certain beyond a shadow of doubt that there were no beings inside before he made a move. Finally, he flew out of the tree, shifting into human form just as his feet lightly hit the ground.

He walked all the way around the small dwelling, listening for sounds, paying attention with all of his senses. Waiting, focused. Then he stepped up to the back door and tried to twist the knob. Unfortunately, while he was normally able to use force to get through closed doors, sheer physical force was no match for magical wards, and this house was heavily warded, even more so, Finn mused, than the king’s beach house.

He thought about Cecilia, and her unique ability to get through damn near any closed door. As he thought about her, his hand tightened on the knob, and much to his surprise, magic flared to life around his hand, almost blindingly bright, and the knob abruptly turned under his touch.

What the hell?

He paused on the threshold, listening, focusing on the lightbearer magic he could feel all around him, but he did not sense anything except that strange, almost alive, oily dark magic that he’d felt when he brought Cecilia home to assure her parents she was fine and to collect an overnight bag so that she could stay with him.

He supposed she would be staying at the beach house from this point forward, after that little confrontation they’d had earlier today. His anger bubbled up anew as he pictured in his head what he’d walked in on when he’d left the kitchens and had gone searching for Cecilia, with only one thing in mind. He couldn’t get his head on straight, because all he ever wanted to do was couple with her, get as close to her as he physically could. It was a poor substitute for the emotional closeness he knew he could not have with her, but just for those few moments in time, it was—would have to be—enough.

But something happened today, when he’d interrupted Samuel’s mating proposal. Cecilia had grown angry with him, and the only reason he could fathom why was because she had intended to accept Samuel’s proposal. That hurt, sliced through his heart like a razor-sharp knife. She continually insisted to him that she wanted no commitment, that she was not ready for that stage of her life. Yet she’d become angry when he refused to let her answer Samuel’s proposal.

He supposed it made sense, considering Samuel had been her first sexual experience. He supposed there might be some sort of attachment there that time could not erase. He didn’t feel that way about his first time—hell, he barely remembered her name—but he supposed Cecilia could feel that way about Samuel.

It was just damned infuriating that he’d let himself fall for her, let himself believe that whatever was going on between them, it might possibly lead to something more, something bigger, something like…love.

Fates be damned, was he in love with the woman?

He must be. That was the only reasonable explanation for the fact that he was prowling through her parents’ house, trying to determine the source of the strange, uncomfortable sensation he’d had the one other time he visited this house. She’d stormed away in a huff when he interrupted Samuel’s mating proposal, and yet here he was still trying to determine who wanted her dead. Glutton for punishment didn’t begin to describe him, it would seem.

As he stepped up to a doorway that was once again heavily warded against entry, he hesitated and then wrapped his hand around the knob. He thought about Cecilia again, thought about her unusual ability to get through locked doors, and once again, magic flared around his hand before the knob twisted easily and the door swung open.

He wondered at that. The magic he was able to channel had to be Cecilia’s. No one else that he knew of had that special ability with locked or warded doors. But how the hell was he channeling her magic, unless she was knowingly giving it to him? Tanner said Olivia was able to share her magic with him because they were emotionally connected, but Finn knew—now more than ever—that Cecilia felt no emotional connection to him. Was it possible that he was able to channel her magic just because
he
felt an emotional connection to
her
? All it took was a one-sided connection? That didn’t sound right, but Finn decided now was not the time to analyze it so closely.

Instead, he focused on the now open doorway, which looked to lead into a basement. It didn’t have the humid, unused feeling of an underutilized room like so many basements did. He considered flipping on the light switch, but if there was someone lurking at the bottom of the stairs, he did not want to alert them to his presence. Besides, he was a shifter with excellent night vision.

He stole down the steps, quiet as a cat, his ears alert for any sounds, his eyes quickly adjusting to the almost impenetrable darkness.

There was no one at the base of the stairs. He was alone in the basement. Still, it seemed a wise idea to keep the lights off, so he did, and began prowling around the space, using all of his senses to determine that he was wandering about a living space, and a well-used one at that.

One corner had been sectioned off with screens, and he discovered a bed behind the screen, the sheet and blankets pulled so severely over the mattress that he could bounce a quarter off it if he so chose. The washer and dryer were tucked underneath the staircase, and a bathroom had been installed next to them. There was even a small kitchenette. It was as if this was an almost completely autonomous apartment.

Strange that Cecilia had never mentioned that her parents had a renter, if that’s what this was. It certainly appeared that way. This did not have the feel of just another family room or an entertainment room. This was an apartment or a mother-in-law suite of sorts.

As Finn walked past one wall, his arm brushed what turned out to be a curtain. Curiously, he lifted the curtain to reveal an entire wall of lights, the kind, he noted, that people used to grow plants indoors in order to extend the growing season.

It occurred to Finn that if plants could survive under these lights, then so too could a lightbearer. This was the perfect setup for a lightbearer who did not—or could not—spend a great deal of time aboveground. Without light, a lightbearer would eventually die. A wall of grow lights certainly solved
that
problem.

Adrenaline surged through his system. He was sure that he’d just discovered where the would-be killer had been hiding, if not his identity. He also confirmed his own suspicions—that Cecilia’s parents were involved. Anger pushed past the adrenaline, as he clenched his fists and thought about how many times over the past few months that he’d let her go home alone, inadvertently exposing her to a killer. He was amazed that she was still alive.

Grateful, and amazed.

With a renewed sense of urgency, Finn decided to hell with avoiding the lights. He strode over to the couch and flipped on a small lamp, bathing the room in pale light. He looked around, taking it all in, now that he could see it clearly. The only furniture in what he determined was the living area was an old, worn armchair made of cracked leather and what looked like duct tape covering various holes and tears. There were no decorations on the walls, no knickknacks on any horizontal surfaces. Nothing about the space was inviting or warm.

Finn moved swiftly through the room, the need to find something, some sort of proof of his suspicions, spurring his actions. He stepped into the sectioned-off sleeping area. Instead of a dresser, there were three wooden crates, each filled with carefully folded clothing. There was a small table next to the head of the bed, and upon the table lay a thin notebook and a pen. Finn picked up the notebook.

When he flipped it open, he sucked in a sharp breath. Only one page had been used. A list of names had been written out in a perfectly symmetrical line, along the left side of the page. The king’s name was on it, as well as the queen and Dane and Olivia and various other lightbearer names that Finn recognized. One name was written on the right side of the page:

Cecilia
.

At the bottom of the page, someone had written the word
shifters
several times, in increasingly more agitated handwriting.

It was easy for Finn to come to the conclusion that this was a list of lightbearers who were sympathetic to the idea of shifters living within the coterie. What he did not understand was why Cecilia had been singled out. Why was her name alone on the right side of the page? Why had she been the only one whose life had been threatened? He supposed Olivia had also been hit with that magical snowball, but he was still convinced Cecilia had been the target.

Not that he wanted anyone else to be in danger. He just wanted to know why, precisely, Cecilia was. If he understood the why, then he could figure out a way to save her, because he would be damned if he would let some zealot take her away from him.

Even if she wasn’t his to take.

He also wanted to know the identity of the person threatening her life. And what was Cecilia’s parents’ connection to this person? Were they aware that their tenant was threatening their own daughter?

So many damn questions, and Finn was determined to find the answers, all of them. Except that just as soon as he flipped off the light, preparing to head upstairs and get the hell out of this strange, slightly uncomfortable space, he heard a noise.

Someone was coming.

She wanted to run. Slip from the beach house and trudge through the snow, heading north, through the woods until she reached the edge of the coterie. She wanted to rush through the wards, to the other side, where nothing could possibly hurt her as badly as Finn had when he’d informed her that she was nothing more than a handy
fuck
.

Ironic that just a few short weeks ago, that’s really all she’d been looking for. But not from him. Not even that first time in the closet had it been just a fuck. It had always been more. She’d seen the way he glowed afterward. Olivia had explained to her that she shared her magic with Tanner because of their shared love. Obviously the love did not have to be mutual. She had shared her magic with Finn, but he did not love her back.

She prowled through the lower level of the beach house, trying to find a distraction from her thoughts. Despite his proclamation, she would not act rashly, would not do precisely what he always assumed she would do. As much as she wanted to run away, this time, she would stay. Nearly falling over the cliff had taught her lesson enough. Someone outside these four walls wanted her dead, and even with her heart in shattered pieces, Cecilia had no desire to end her life quite this soon.

Carley was not in the kitchens. Cecilia barely knew the four underchefs who were busy preparing dinner, so she quickly exited and headed down the hall toward the main foyer. That area reminded her of Finn’s devastating proclamation, so she hurried through and entered the entertainment room. Olivia was upstairs, resting. She’d been hit with a bout of nausea a short time ago. Tanner had tucked her into bed and then headed down to the village to track down Alexa. Olivia had insisted she was fine, but he was a slightly overprotective shifter, and so she relented and let him have his way.

Cecilia wondered if Finn would act the same way toward his mate, when he took one, and she became with child. Or did he not have any interest in mating? She had no idea. The closest they’d ever come to having the conversation was when he’d informed her that she was nothing more than a good
fuck
. Hell, he hadn’t even said she was a
good
fuck.

A flash of movement caught her eye, and Cecilia lifted her gaze to the bank of windows lining the north side of the room. The sun was low in the sky, already heading toward dusk, but the sky was cloudless, and the last rays stretched across the snow-covered lawn, changing the white snow to hues of gold and orange.

Someone was standing out there on the lawn. Cecilia narrowed her eyes and stepped closer to the windows, pressing her palms against the cool glass. Actually, there were several people standing out on the lawn. A woman, who looked as though she was struggling with several men.

What was going on? She twisted her head to and fro, searching for the guards that typically hovered around every corner of the beach house, but none went running to the rescue of the distressed female lightbearer. Where were the guards?