Embrace, Entice, Emblaze (50 page)

I nodded for Lincoln’s benefit and let him lead me out, even

though I felt like our exit was premature. Before I closed the door, I turned back to see Onyx watching me, grinning stupidly.

Why
are
we
helping
this
guy
again?

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chapter
six

“We learn that there are in the Creation, Beings— perhaps very
numerous— both good and evil.”

RIChaRd WhaTLeY

In the morning, I wiped the steam from the mirror in the bath-

room only to wish I hadn’t. By the time Lincoln had dropped me

home, it was close to 2 a.m., and because I needed to be at the airport by 6 to welcome the new Grigori, my sleep time had been seriously cut short. Plus, what sleep I did actually get had felt restless with a familiar dream.

Dressed shabbily in the only school clothes I could fi nd— that is, from the fll oor— I set about making my fi rst cup of coff ee on what promised to be a high- caff eine- content day. I gulped the fi rst one down and was in the process of making a second cup, simultaneously wringing out my still wet hair, when Dad came out of his room dragging a large suitcase.

“Morning, sweetheart,” he said, as he parked the suitcase by

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the front door and came over to give me a signature kiss on the top of my head. His face was warm and soft— just shaved. “Is that for me?”

I looked down at the coffee I’d just made. “Sure,” I said, handing it over and setting about pouring another. “I didn’t think you were leaving until tonight.”

Dad was flying out to visit his international clients. He goes on the same trip every year, which is almost more flying than anything else, traveling from Tokyo to Dubai to Paris. It used to take about three weeks, but he’d gradually been scaling back. Last year, he was home in a record ten days. This year, he’d managed to schedule the trip into one week. Given the chance, Dad would prefer to remain locked in his office where he can actually keep the rest of the world away, but certain clients insist on face- to- face dealings.

“I’m not, but just in case I get caught up at work, I…”

I nodded. He didn’t need to say any more.

“So,” he said, changing the subject and putting on his respon-

sible parent voice.

I wondered if maybe he had heard me sneaking in this morning,

or noticed I wasn’t in bed last night. I glanced at him watching my hands as they gripped the frothing milk jug. I double- checked that the markings on my wrists were covered properly by my silver bracelets. All the other Grigori receive leather wristbands, but for me, the markings are part of my body. They wrap around my

wrists in a swirl of silver, like a tattoo or something, and when I use my power, they react, churning like a river of mercury, reflecting 51

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different colors. Steph says I’m my own walking mirror ball and swears one night she’ll talk me into putting them to the disco test.

I won’t.

“We should probably run through the house rules.”

“Oh. Sure,” I said, letting out a breath of relief that also held some disappointment.

“Same as always, really,” he went on. “If you have any trouble, go next door. I’ve told the Richardsons that I’m going to be away and they’ve given you an open invitation for dinner and to come and see them if you need anything. I’ll call you every night. At different times”— he gave me the I-was-a-teenager-once-too look— “on the

home phone, and no overnight guests other than Steph. I’ll be

checking with the doorman. Okay?”

I gave Dad a military nod. “Yes, sir.”

“Very funny. Just look after yourself.”

But actually, it was funny. It was going to be harder to do whatever I wanted while he was away than when he was at home.

Yeah, we’re a totally functional family.

“I always do,” I said, finishing the longest conversation I’d had with Dad in about three weeks. He didn’t even realize this, of

course, which made it even harder. I wanted to be mad at him,

tell him to pay attention, but I knew deep down, now that I was a Grigori, it was for the best.

————

The airport was packed with early- morning travelers.

Who’d want to go anywhere at this time of day?

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All I wanted was to crawl back into my bed and pass out for a

week, maybe more.

At
least
Lincoln
will
be
here.

I looked at the information screen. The flight in from JFK had

already landed. I headed toward the arrivals area, keeping an eye out for Lincoln, but there were too many people. In the end, I gave up and just looked for our link, our bond as partners. I can always feel him when I try. It’s like searching out something that shines brighter than anything else.

But before I had a chance to zero in on Lincoln, I got a kind of flash of the whole airport. It reminded me of looking at one of Dad’s blueprints, but instead, it was driven by the senses. Somehow, the shades of morning and evening were drawing me a map, and then a buzzing energy focused in on some areas. It was just a glimpse, and I didn’t have any idea how I did it or how to do it again. The strangest part was, I sensed something that I couldn’t put my finger on. The taste of apple was there, but it was faint, more like a memory stimulating the flavor. I smelled flowers, but again they seemed distant. It felt like an exile, or exiles, but it also made me feel numb, like my insides had gone to sleep. I had no clue what it meant.

Maybe
that
I’m seriously not getting enough sleep!

I pushed the senses aside, unable to draw any rational conclu-

sion. I found Lincoln quickly after that— could feel him— and

started in his direction.

My heart skipped a beat when I saw him. I should have guessed;

he was buying coffee.

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“Good morning,” he chirped, passing me a fresh cup as soon as

the barista had put them on the counter. He looked exactly like the man of your dreams is supposed to look first thing in the morning—

white shirt, sleeves rolled up neatly, blue jeans faded just enough.

His light brown hair was ruffled, the streaks of sun- bleached blond haphazardly thrown about. The only noticeable sign of a particularly early morning was that he hadn’t shaved. I had to work hard not to stare, wide- eyed, and was grateful for my hot drink keeping my hands firmly engaged, preventing me from reaching out to

touch the stubble, which made the perfect accessory.

“Good timing,” I said, my voice telltale catchy. “Are they here yet?”

“Just getting their bags. Should be out in a few minutes.” He

put his hand on the curve of my lower back, guiding me closer to the arrivals gate.

Just
breathe, you idiot.

But the problem was every touch, every moment with Lincoln

was so intensified that his hand on the small of my back was all I could concentrate on.

Which
is
probably
exactly
why
Grigori
are
never
meant
to
be
together!

“Hey, do you know if there have been any exiles returned around here lately?” I asked after we took up a spot near a sidewall.

His eyebrows lifted. “No, not that I know of, but that doesn’t

mean they haven’t been. Why?” He started looking around, unsure if he should be on the alert.

“It’s probably nothing. I just feel a bit off this morning,” I

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reassured him as I leaned against the wall and blew on my scalding coffee. I hate it when they make them too hot. I slumped a little as I let my head hang back and decided to wait until we were outside the airport, then I would try again to see what I could sense.

“Not much sleep?” Lincoln asked.

“No. You?”

“Enough.” He shrugged.

I stood up straighter. I wasn’t going to come off as a wimp; if he could be tough, so could I.

“Where’s Griffin?” I asked, ignoring the smirk he was giving me.

“Right there.” He pointed through the crowd, and sure enough,

Griffin was walking toward us.

“Good morning,” Griffin said, narrowly avoiding two peroxide-

blond girls maneuvering backpacks that were bigger than they were.

I couldn’t hold back the giggle when one of them spun around and he had to duck.

Griffin gave them a foul look before redirecting his attention to me. “I hear you had an unexpected end to last night.”

“Yeah, did Linc tell you about Onyx?”

“Yes, and I’m amazed he’s resurfaced. I’ll give it some thought.

Maybe we can get him to a halfway house or something.”

“What do you normally do?” I asked, blowing through the little

mouthpiece on the lid of my coffee cup. There must be some kind of plan in place for these things.

“Violet,” Griffin said, raising his eyebrows, “Onyx is the first exile I know who has become human and then resurfaced.”

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“What? I…I don’t understand. Surely others have chosen to be

made human along the way?”

He just gave his head a little shake. “There have been a few, but they never reappear afterward. We’ll talk about it later. Your new tutors should be out in a minute and I need to brief you.”

“Okay,” I said, not entirely sure I could concentrate.

Was
being
human
really
that
bad?

I remembered only a month ago when I would have given

almost anything to keep my boring human existence.

“Right,” he said, kicking back beside us like any ordinary twenty-five- year- old— something he rarely managed to pull off. “So, Nyla and Rudyard are the tutors. They’re both old friends of mine and they’ve been partners for almost four hundred years. Actually—”

“Hang on!” I butted in. “Four hundred
years
!”

Yeah, just kicking back, talking about his four- hundred- year- old
buddies.

“Yes, almost. Probably closer to three hundred and eighty- five, but when you get up that high, I believe it is acceptable to round up to the nearest fifty. Don’t you think?” he asked, smiling.

Lincoln laughed.

“Ha ha, very funny. I’m glad you find me so amusing. I mean,

I know you said we would live for hundreds of lifetimes, but it’s different when you start, you know, meeting people that will soon be celebrating a quad- centenary.”

“Technically, they’re over four hundred and two years old. They weren’t always Grigori,” Lincoln said, enjoying himself as well.

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“What about the other ones? They’re my age, aren’t they?”

Suddenly, I was freaked out that I was about to be surrounded by a crew of ancients.

“Yes, give or take a year or two. I believe they’re bringing three with them. A partner set and one in waiting. I don’t know their names,” Griffin explained.

“In waiting?”

“Partner hasn’t come of age yet,” Lincoln said, his tone flat.

“Oh,” was all I could muster.

Lincoln hitched one shoulder and looked around casually, even

though it wasn’t casual at all— not for him. He’d had to wait nine years for me, which was a long time for Grigori. Mostly, partners only have to wait months or maybe a year for each other. No one knew why Lincoln had had to wait so long for his, but I knew it mustn’t have been easy for him during that time. Even Grigori who lose their partners are usually offered a new one within a year, and even though some refuse— choosing instead to help in other ways, like the cleanup crew, or some just opting for retirement, though apparently that rarely panned out well— at least they have a say in the matter.

Griffin was watching the flow of people coming through arrivals.

It seemed obvious when the wave of New Yorkers started. They

didn’t seem to notice the people standing beside them, or in front of them for that matter; they just walked at their own pace, which was faster.

I nudged Lincoln. “I wonder what they’ll look like?” I whispered.

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When
someone
is
more
than
four
hundred
years
old, they would
have to look weird, right?