Gravity (3 page)

snow. Read a book,” he suggested.

Outside, the snow glimmered like billions of crushed diamonds blanketing the city. It didn’t

seem possible so early in the season, but I wondered if a large congregation of Breed and their

energy influenced the weather. What impact did we have on the world without even knowing it?

Answers I’d never have, but suddenly the world blossomed into an ocean of possibilities.

When I looked back at Novis, a distant expression filled his eyes as he gazed at the street. In

the blink of an eye, the moment was gone and he pulled the red straw from his tall glass and

sucked the chocolate from the other end.

“Adam won’t visit us,” I said, leaning back in my seat.

He pushed the shake away and wiped his mouth. “Adam isn’t the same man. Events like that

change us, and he hasn’t been responsive to my suggestions.”

“What suggestions? That he attend a party and put on a happy face with all his scars?”

Novis twisted his mouth. “Perhaps I am not as empathetic to such things, as I have been

witness to a lifetime of suffering. The strong endure. I chose Adam as my progeny because of his

bravery and resilience. He was willing to give up his life for honor, but now he cannot live his life

with imperfections.”

“He’s hurt, Novis. Not just from being rejected by that tramp you kept in your house, but…” I

shook my head.

I almost went blind, so I knew how Adam must have felt facing a future with a visible affliction.

A Mage isn’t born, but made of the strongest men. This is how our kind survived through the years

—the best of the best. He would not just be treated differently, but his gifts would be rejected. I

could see Novis’s side of things because Adam had always been a warrior. But now he sat in the

corner of the ring, feeling defeated by life and pummeled by Karma. Sometimes the worst beatings

we endure are never the physical kind.

Novis pinched his bottom lip between his fingers.

“His talent as a Healer is no longer secret,” Novis said. “There have been one or two who have

offered to employ him, and I will not lie, it’s out of pity. Despite the reasoning behind it, Adam

should snatch up this opportunity to prove himself, but he’s refused. It’s an honor to be so young

and selected for private services. I wanted his gift to remain a secret, fearing it would endanger

him. But I’m recognizing that it could keep him safe. Adam resists. He locks himself away or

spends hours running.”

“Yeah, he always liked to run.”

“At some point, a man must learn that running will get him nowhere. I will give him time, but I

have no words of comfort and cannot coddle my progeny. He must stand on his own feet and find

his way in this world, or else I have failed as a Creator.”

A clamorous sound of metal pots rang out from the kitchen and Novis leaned to the side,

keeping a close eye on the cook. The expression on his face reminded me of how ancient he really

was.

“I’ll keep you informed when Christian returns; we’ll have a meeting and discuss whatever he

uncovers.”

“Has he left yet?” I peered out the window at the dark shadows between the buildings. The

cold air from the frosty windowpane made me shiver.

“No. He’ll leave tomorrow morning. Is there anything you think would be valuable to ask

Grady?”

I looked at him appreciatively. Novis respected me, and that meant something. “Ask him if he

loved my mother, and if he did, why he put her through that. I want to know what he got out of

ruining her life.”

Why didn’t he take a woman willing to be inseminated? Plenty of women would have loved to

have children, and some might have loved the idea that immortals existed. My mom lived with him

for months, so why didn’t he immediately take her to the lab? Why did he make her cross an ocean

just to have her impregnated?

“You heard her, Christian.” Novis’s blue eyes were fixated on something behind me and I

turned around.

A tall figure in a long black trench coat swirled out the door into the snowy night.

Chapter 2

“It’s late for a checkup,” Justus said to the Relic . His large hand ran across his clean-shaven

head. Around the house, he normally wore cotton shirts. But tonight, Justus wore a blue dress

shirt tucked into a pair of dark slacks.

Page lifted a scolding eyebrow in response to his tone, placing a slide beneath a small

microscope that she carried in her oversized bag. She turned the focus knob and leaned in for a

closer look. “Relic hours are unpredictable, Mr. De Gradi,” she replied in a soft voice. “It’s the only

time I could squeeze you in.”

Page La Croix had worked as my Relic after saving my life from a Chitah bite, and it wouldn’t be

accurate to call her a doctor since a Relic did more than mend the physical body. Ancient

knowledge lived in a Relic’s DNA, passed down through the generations of each family. They didn’t

have a prolonged life and were as mortal as any human.

I’d hung around immortal men long enough to know that some were abrasive and often

objectified women. Page once confided how challenging her job had been in the beginning. Many

either refused her services or belittled her. Relics worked hard to instill a trusting relationship with

their clients that would last for the rest of their lives, but being bullied was not part of the job. Her

partner had ended up with the difficult ones, but over time, she’d learned to stand up for herself.

“It’s unfortunate, but if I’m soft and allow them to walk all over me, they will,” she once told me.

“If they don’t respect me, then I can’t effectively treat or counsel them. Most Relic women have

toughened up over time because of this.”

She ran her hand through her choppy brown hair and moved the slide.

“Well, any ghoulies in there?” I asked.

“Still looks clean, Silver. I want to continue our checkups. Your situation was unique—not just

surviving three Chitah canines in your neck, but the consumption of so much Vampire blood. Not

to mention the healing light you borrowed from a Mage. A weird combination of factors was at

play. I need to study and learn from it. I’ve never heard of anyone’s eyes turning Vampire the way

yours did, even for a brief period. It shouldn’t have happened.”

“Maybe no one ever had a cup of Christian.”

Justus groaned from his corner of the dining room. It wasn’t a room illuminated with electricity,

but there were plenty of bright candles on the table to provide Page with all the light she needed.

I could tell he was displeased with my comment; the visual of me necking with his former guard

had probably scarred him for life.

Page sat back in her chair and pinched the inside corners of her eyes. It looked like she was

running on coffee and a few hours’ sleep.

“I’m going to take a sample to the lab.”

“No,” Justus cut in. He dragged a chair from beneath the table and sat across from her. “I

forbid it. Review what you need to, but none of it leaves the premises.”

“How do you justify that? We could learn a lot from her blood. She may have some unique

properties.”

“And what exactly is that going to do for you?” He let the words roll off his tongue slowly, like

an accusation.

Her brown eyes met with his. “Not a man of science, are you, Mr. De Gradi?” She shook her

head and dismissed his attitude, as if she’d encountered it a million times. “If you think I’m seeking

out a Nobel, you can wipe that idea out of your head. Relics understand Breed genetics, but not

everything. Humans have a better grasp on their own species than we do of ours. There is so

much magic within us—so much possibility. Something remarkable transpired with Silver.”

Page’s eyes lit up; she was passionate about her profession and you could see it whenever she

spoke. “We know that Breeds go extinct, but every so often, there’s a genetic leap, and a new

Breed is born. It happens. You know it, and I know it. Sometimes it peters out and nothing comes

of them if they can’t reproduce or pass on their abilities, but sometimes it sticks. We’ve never

actually seen the birth of a new species from inception; they’ve just appeared over the years

without knowledge of their origin. Wouldn’t that be the most spectacular thing to witness?”

“It would, except Silver is a Mage,” Justus countered.

Her eyes fell away and she rubbed them again. It was going on two in the morning and I didn’t

need a clock to tell me that.

“I guess it’s up to my Ghuardian what I do with my own blood,” I replied with annoyance,

directing a frosty glare his way.

Justus shook his head, conceding defeat. “Take what you need, but only this once. Show it to

no one else. You’ll dispose of her blood once you have personally examined it under the proper

equipment. If you are not skilled in that sort of research, then—”

“Don’t doubt my skills.”

Color bled into his neck and he laced his fingers together, resting them in front of his face.

She swiveled in her seat and touched my arm. “That’s all I need tonight, Silver. Call me if you

experience unusual symptoms or if something doesn’t seem normal. No matter how small, I’m here

for you. You’re as healthy as a horse as far as I’m concerned, so I don’t see a need to make these

visits weekly anymore.”

Those visits were on Justus’s orders.

I couldn’t help but notice the furrowed brow that appeared on his face when she made her

announcement. Justus placed his large hands flat on the table and pushed himself up as if he

might make an announcement of some kind. Instead, he turned around and went out the main

door.

“Page, do you mind if I ask you something? Our books don’t teach me half of what I discover

through personal interaction.”

“Books will only teach you so much,” she agreed.

“Did you go to a special school for Relics?”

She smiled a little. “I went to Harvard. It’s important to acquire a modern education, but school

had to take a back seat and I dropped out. It would have been a waste of my life to spend it in

school when I could be more useful among the Breed with my inherited knowledge. My life isn’t as

long as yours.” She blew a strand of hair away from her face.

“You don’t have kids?”

Her lips thinned. “No, and all Relics are expected to continue the lineage of knowledge.”

“That’s a lot of pressure.”

She shrugged and twirled a pen on the table. “All Breeds who procreate have the same instinct

of preservation. Relics are very ancient and because of our average lifespan, the importance of

children is always stressed.”

“Can Relics only have children with other Relics?”

“Well… we can’t have children with humans. Relics may be mortal, but we have that spark of

Breed magic—for lack of a better word—in our DNA. No Breed can procreate with a human. Nature

seems to make small exceptions within the Breed, however. So I’ve heard, but it’s very rare. It’s

preferred that we stick to our own kind in order to retain that magic and knowledge.”

“It’s been done?” I asked.

She tilted her head side to side. “Those who have made that choice are turned away among

their own kind, and they are considered traitors.”

“How are you a traitor? You’re living a decent life, having children…”

“The magic cancels out when two opposite Breeds come together. We can only pass on our

knowledge to Relic children. Full-blooded Relics. It’s the only way to preserve our heritage and

each family specializes in different things. If I had a child with a Shifter, the child would be neither

Relic nor Shifter. In any case, it’s rare. Our genetics don’t mix easily and a pregnancy is unlikely.”

“Those children won’t inherit a drop of knowledge?”

She smiled. “That’s the interesting part. It’s muddied down, but they would acquire a little.

They’d still be human, though, and no one wants their child to be rejected among their own kind.

Not to mention a Shifter would outlive their child. We haven’t done enough studies because

interbreeding just doesn’t occur very often.”

The door swung open and Justus appeared with snow caked on his boots and a dust of white

powder on his broad shoulders. “Learner, set up the guest room. The Relic will be staying with us

tonight.”

Page’s eyebrows nearly shot to the roof. “Pardon me?”

Ignoring her complaint, he ran his hand over his head, now wet from melted snow. Some of it

dripped on the floor with a loud smack as Justus cranked on his internal thermostat. “The road is

impassable and we have a foot of snow on the ground from the drifts. The sleet is coming in,” he

said in a baritone voice.

“Then I better get moving,” she insisted, zipping up her medical bag. “I have an important

client I’m scheduled to see in an hour. I swear, this is the craziest weather I’ve ever seen.”

Justus laced his fingers around the handle of her bag and hauled it off the table. For a

moment, I thought he was going to help her obligingly to her car, until he headed toward the