Lost Seraphine (The Seraphine Trilogy #2) (20 page)

I wrap a towel around my waist and return to Gia.

“What does this mean, Gia?” I ask, pointing at the new tattoos.

I
watch her as she studies my stomach and then my wrists with the intensity of a doctor, all traces of the flushed face girl who left me back in the bathroom gone. She has decided to pursue a career in medicine, and nothing could fit someone more perfectly. I can’t think of a better patient for her to experiment on than me as I’m sitting here on the bed getting examined by Dr. Jones.

“I’m not sure, but I think they might be protection runes,”
she answers, moving the underside of my right wrist up toward the tattoo on my stomach, comparing them.

“Why would psycho dude brand me and then mark me with weirdo safety marks? Doesn’t make sense,” I begin. “I got one even better than that. Why do I kee
p dreaming about these things first?”

Gia glances up at me, a strange look in her eyes. “I’m not sure. But I don’t think Bernael made these marks.”

“Right. Explanation please.”

“Scrolls and cursives aren’t things you’d find on one of Bernael’s followers.
The Fallen’s symbolism leans toward using straight lines, points and hard edges.”

“Like the star tat on my neck,” I chime in.

“Exactly.”

“If this Bernael dude didn’t make these, then who did? And don’t tell me I can expect to see more tats. I’m not a bike
r or a rock star. The thought of becoming a walking scroll tattoo doesn’t appeal to me all that much.”

“Let me take a couple of pics. I can get Mabry’s opinion,” Gia suggests. I scoff. “What’s wrong?”

“Thought we agreed it was time to... you know, help him understand we’re the real deal. As in, me physically going to your top secret house.”

“Okay. We can do that. No more secrets,” she says without any protest, her gaze locked on mine. “Maybe... and this is just a theory
, but maybe Erica did this to… I don’t know… protect you.”

Her speaking the name
Erica and saying the words “no more secrets” in the same thought makes me remember something I should’ve brought up long ago.

I take Gia’s hands in mine and inhale deeply. I have no idea h
ow to gently break this news to her. “Do you think she did it to make you jealous?”
Yeah, great way to start, my friend.

“What do you mean?”

“Like sibling rivalry or something?”

“Are you trying to tell me something, Caleb? If so, then just say it,” she urges.

I tighten my grip on her hands and say, “Erica thinks she’s your sister. I know. Freakin’ nuts, right?” I make a light laugh. No good. Gia’s face has gone pale, but there’s something else in her eyes, too—a recognition, or maybe an acceptance of what I just said.

She stands up and moves over to my window, glancing outside without blinking
. Her profile is disturbingly similar to the girl who’s destined to destroy the world, the Dark Seraphine.

“She was lying. I’m sure of it.” I stand up and move over to where she’s standing so still that it’s easy to see the supernatural side of her. Is she in shock?

“Say something, water angel.”

Without looking at me, she begins shaking h
er head the slightest bit. “It’s not a lie. I believe her.”

“Well, I don’t,” I say, meaning every word.

“I’ve always known Father was hiding something from me. I knew that my connection to Erica wasn’t only about some stolen blood or whatever. We have the same mother. The Seer has already hinted at that tidbit. Doesn’t take a biology degree to figure out the rest. Oh Caleb, what bad thing will I wind up helping the Dark Queen do? Father did the right thing by sending me away.” She buries her face in her palms and inhales sharply, holding her breath. I can’t take seeing her cry. Never could. I pull her into my arms, holding her tightly, wishing for every single tear and pain and heartache she’s feeling right now to enter my body, instead.

“We’ll figure this
out, together. I promise. Nothing bad will happen to either of us, or our families. You have my word,” I whisper furiously. I’m not sure how I’ll do it, but I do know I’ll find a way to make well on that promise.

Because now, I don’t have a choice.

Gia

Yesterday, Principal
Armstrong announced that school will be dismissed for the rest of the week. Thorne’s death and Shani’s disappearance have been too much for our classmates to handle. I fully agree with Caleb. The time for him to speak with our house leader has come.

After picking Caleb up from his place, I drive us both to the safe house, blindfolding him as Mabry requeste
d—
the same way we do any other guest, except for Principal Armstrong. I don’t get a protest or a sarcastic remark or anything. There’s an empty shell of a boy sitting beside me, one that used to hold a vibrant, energetic aura of someone who embraces life with passion. Now, I see my wave rider accepting his destiny, but with a heavy heart as he does so. And after what he confirmed for me about Erica, aka the Dark Seraphine, being my sister, mine doesn’t feel all that light either.

“Will this blindfold self destruct now?” he asks as the car eases to a stop outside the safe house. I smile. The joke-question is completely opposite of what I was just thinking, reminding me that my Caleb, the Naruto lover, still lives inside him.

I reach over and ease the bandana away from his eyes, lifting it over his head and ruffling his hair as I do so. Our gazes lock and our eyes betray so many things the lips won’t say. “Only for those who don’t pass my test,” I answer him.

“Really? Did I miss that part, too?” A lazy smile plays across his lips.

“Here, let me give you a hint.” I move my mouth toward his, kissing him, little pulses of excitement burning through my stomach. I don’t know why sitting here in front of the safe house makes me feel this way. Then again, yes I do. Bringing Caleb to my new home marks a milestone, an acceptance into a previously forbidden aspect of my world. It means giving him a part of me that I’ve held back for too long.

We pull apart, smiling, our kiss leaving us winded the way it always does. “Um, yeah. Did I pass?” Caleb whispers, his dark hair and navy blue Henley highlighting the sparkle in his expressive eyes that are like midnight and smoke; a mixture of silver, splashes of blue and a mist of gray.

“In more ways than I can mention,” I answer.

Slowly, he lifts his head and turns toward the house, glancing over the exterior with his critical eyes, the trait of an artist. “Whoa. It’s huge.” His gaze rakes over everything as we step out of the car and walk toward the entrance.

With its Gothic spires, dark red and brown brick work—the product of a vivid imagination, as you’ll find out—and wooden doors imported from Spain, I can only imagine what Caleb is thinking as he stares at the house.

The style and architecture doesn’t gel with the rest of the houses here in New Bern. I guess it’s a good thing that most people can’t see it. To the average passerby, the space is filled with giant oaks, a ton of Spanish moss and a huge weeping willow that sits in the middle of the front
yard, warning off the curious ones with a shiver of its massively coated limbs, swaying in the wind that constantly blows over this area. A monster in its own right.

Cori greets us at the door, her eyes filled with questions. News of what happened at Ashley George has already made its way around the house, so I’m a bit surprised when I walk into a silent hallway.

“Caleb, do come in,” she says, opening the door wide.

I’m expecting to see more of the other kids standing around, waiting to throw a gazillion questions our way, curious about the boy who has been the topic of most of our controversial conversations. Instead, I find empty hallways and a nervous friend.

“What’s up, Cori?” Caleb says, taking in our surroundings as he strolls through the doorway. The safe house is a restored mansion that once belonged to a well-known author, a man who was an ally to Bardonia’s inhabitants, the Caducean demon slayers. The light green walls, the elaborate wooden trim crafted in the style of the Renaissance period and the large, winding staircase all make for a small, though comforting, reminder of my life under the sea, an elaborate welcome for newbies like Caleb.

“Where’s everybody?” I ask.

“Who knows? Mabry sent them away on a secret training mission. Oh, so scary,” she mocks.

“Funny. He didn’t mention anything about a gathering to me,” I say, getting ignored. Cori’s attention has already shifted back to my boyfriend, her eyes gleaming as he removes his jacket, showing off his ripped physique in a form-fitting navy blue tee shirt. I’m used to this now. It’s the same kind of reaction I see in other girls when it comes to Caleb, my boyfriend who has no clue about the intensity of his sexiness.

“I don’t care what Mabry thinks. I’m glad you’re here,” Cori says, a mischievous grin lighting up her face. I can almost envision her hiding behind the curtain and watching Caleb and me while we were in the car. “He’s waiting in his laboratory. Don’t ask me what he’s doing. I can’t go with you guys, though. He mentioned privacy. Guess he doesn’t want too many of us hanging out in his secret room.” Cori’s sentences are running together. This is the first time she has seen Caleb since mistakenly telling him about our trip to the Seer and I can tell she’s nervous.

“His laboratory? Are you sure?” I remove my jacket and take Caleb’s. The lab sits underground at the end of a long tunnel the author had built sometime during World War II. Word around these parts was that he was a psycho, a mystery writer who everyone believed experienced the tales of the murderous plots he created firsthand before putting them down on paper. Mabry says he was misunderstood, of course.

“He lives in that place, Gia. Where else would he be?” she answers, smirking. “I’ll go put these away for you.” She takes our coats, still smiling at the two of us.

“Thanks, Cori.” I give her a lingering, tight hug. Watching someone die makes you realize the importance of small things like hugs and kisses, which in turn causes me to think of Raze. His ghost hasn’t bothered me since the night of the tornado. Given the nature of the things that took place today, I’m not so sure that’s a good thing.

“You all right, Princess?” she asks, walking beside me until we reach the kitchen.

“Sure. I’m fine,” I answer and take Caleb’s hand, leading him through the room and over to a door that appears to be an opening to a cellar; a disguise designed to fool any intruder who’s smart enough to find a way to break through Mabry’s protection veil.

The old, wooden door creaks open. The smell of water and mildew surrounds us as we step down onto concrete steps leading into the dark hallway. Caleb uses his cell phone to light our way, illuminating his handsome face in mysterious shadows.

“Remind me to avoid watching Texas Chainsaw movies before coming to your place next time,” Caleb remarks, his voice echoing in the dank, dark hallway.

We make our way through what feels like a mile long tunnel until we reach the room at the end. There’s no door, but I still motion for Caleb to hold on a moment before stepping inside. You never know what booby trap a TriGate Alchemist has set up to protect his work space.

Across the room, Mabry leans over a table situated directly in the middle of the floor and is hard at work welding something that requires him to wear a mask. Almost as soon as we move closer to the doorway, he shuts off his torch and turns our way.

“He always knows when one of us is around. It’s creepy,” I whisper to Caleb.

“Do I need to be worried?” he asks, glancing at the axes and hammers and saws that are hanging on the wall on the right hand side of the room. In the back of the room, a concrete block of a thing that’s usually either too hot or cold, depending on the season, sits on a table with every shape and color bottle you can imagine. The walls are painted an intriguing blend of red, brown, and orange; colors associated with the aura of the TriGate Alchemists.

“Not a bit,” I answer, taking his hand and lacing my fingers with his.

After a long hesitation, Mabry nods, places his tools on the table and removes his mask. His gaze passes over our entwined hands as we step through the doorway. “Kids, I have been expecting the two of you. Have a seat.” He motions toward a set of black couches situated by the wall opposite the one with the axes.

I lead Caleb over to them and sit down on the love seat, our hands still entwined. Three pairs of eyes are studying one another right now. The tension swims around us, winding me. One of us has to break the silence spell. Guess that should be me. “Something has happened, Mabry,” I begin. I inhale a shaky breath and fill Mabry in on the details of what the Seer told me about my mother, the tattoos Caleb has on his neck, wrists, and now just above his navel, the same spot where Thorne’s was located. I save the tidbit about me, the part where I’ve been told the Dark Seraphine could be my sister, for last. All while I’m speaking, Mabry remains calm, his gaze drifting back and forth between Caleb, my face and our joined hands.

“Is it true? Was my mother from Bardonia?”

“She was one of the greatest Light Keepers who ever lived. Her fighting skills were legendary,” he says after a long pause.

Damn tears well up in my eyes again. Caleb’s grip tightens around my hand. “So she’s not dead then?” I ask, my voice rising, an angry knot in my throat.

“Leezra Konkrin had two children before she was banished to the human lands and then she grew old and died, as any other human would do,” Mabry explains.

“It doesn’t make any sense. Why would the Seer tell me we could find Caleb’s father if we found her?”

“The Seers are mistresses of riddle. You knew this even before you broke the house rules by going to see her.”

“Since your info for Gia seems to be a tad faulty, maybe you can tell me where to find my father,” Caleb interrupts. He and Mabry stare each other down a long moment.

“I am not certain,” Mabry finally answers.

“Sure you are,” Caleb says, bursting through the tension brewing between Mabry and me. “You know a lot more than you’re saying. For starters, you can tell us why no one told Gia she has a sister with a serious attitude problem. Then, you can tell me why I’ve been dreaming about you.”

“What?” I ask, feeling confused.

“This is him, Gia. The man who’s been swimming with me in my dreams, telling me I need to use that weird voice.” Caleb lets go of my hand and hops to his feet. So does Mabry. I do the same, unsure of what to think.

“I thought it was you when I saw you that time at the beach. The day after the storm hit, but you made sure to keep your distance, didn’t you, my man?” Caleb demands, his chest heaving.

“Is this true?” I ask Mabry.

“Yes,” he answers without blinking or anything. He simply stands there with his hands cupped behind his back the way he always does, hitting Caleb and me with more news that’ll forever change our lives.

“Real smooth, Gia. He’s working with the black winged dude who took Shani,” Caleb says, his eyes wild as he passes a critical glance over Mabry. “Nobody tells the truth these days.”

“I work with no one,” Mabry says to me before I can even ask the question. “Calm him down, Giancarella.” He eases over to the table, removing the thing he was working on before we showed up.

“I don’t need to be calm. I want answers. So does Gia,” Caleb demands, his voice rising. This was such a bad idea.

Beside me, Caleb shuts his eyes, clenches his fists and begins reciting a group of words, whispers that seem to roll into one long sentence. The walls around us begin to rumble and the axes on the opposite wall tremble in their holdings. A strange scent, ancient and peppery, fills the room. I look to Mabry for help. Even the Alchemist seems at a loss for words.

“By the Lights. It is true,” Mabry says.

“What’s going on? Mabry!”

“Stay the hell away from me. And my girl, too,” Caleb says as he snaps out of the creepy voice thing he was doing, jabbing a finger in his direction.

“Caleb, Mabry’s on our side.”

“No, he’s not. He wants to take me to
them
.”

“The Melusine witches will eventually come for you. There is no need for my assistance in the matter,” Mabry says as he holds a bracelet made out of abalone and galena metal in his hands.

The house begins to tremble harder than before, the wood groaning as though its old wood suffers from arthritis.

“Calm him down or I will do it for you,” Mabry warns, lifting his left hand, the outline of his silver sphere already forming over his palm. He will do as he says.

I turn to Caleb. The strange phrases are still coming from his lips, small hisses in a warbled language I don’t understand. “Wave Rider. Hey, it’s me,” I say slowly, making my way over to him and grasping his arms.

“Gia?” he asks, a distant look on his face. Then he says in a breathy tone, “Gia... my water angel.” Pale skin, flushed cheeks. My Caleb is fighting his way back to me. The items on the wall go still. The house stops rumbling. We all stand together in the leftover silence of a moment none of us truly understand.

“This relic will protect you. Accept it as a peace offering from my people,” Mabry holds the bracelet out for Caleb to take.

I narrow my eyes at Mabry. For as long as I’ve known him, he has never indicated he’s the type to dish out peace offerings.

“I don’t want anything from you. No wait. I take that back. I want some freaking answers,” Caleb growls.