More Than Life (Arcane Crossbreeds) (14 page)

Her uncle Canton sighed. “They must have done something to affect your memories. I feared this. It is why I arranged a bond with a House far from this region. I feared they would target you.”

“Who? The Rebels?” Katya remembered the endless injections in the research lab. Surely they hadn’t affected her memories. She distinctly remembered waking up strapped down and every word of Dr. Rupple’s welcome speech. He was human. Why would a human doctor be working for Rebels? This didn’t make sense. “Why would Rebels even be interested in me?”

“I fear your parents’ activities may be at the root of this.”

“My parents?” A chill brushed over her skin. She glanced back at Elder Grayson and returned her gaze to her uncle. What were they talking about? “They were killed by a Sanguen with blood dementia. You told me yourself.”

“We were trying to protect you, my child.” Elder Grayson’s eyes were cloudy with compassion. “They had come to our region to seek sanctuary. They’d been aiding the Rebels in the Great Lakes House region. When the Great Lakes doyen issued an order of execution on them, they ran. Your mother contacted your uncle to petition the Bay House for sanctuary.”

“My parents were Rebel sympathizers?” She had almost no memory of her parents. Just wisps of sensations. The sound of her mother’s voice. The feel of her father’s beard. Almost everything she knew of them was from her uncle.

“I’m afraid so. There were killed by Rebels before we could bring them in. We were lucky you were not a victim as well.”

Katya narrowed her eyes on her uncle. “But Raife said they were killed by a blood-demented Sanguen. He – ”

“Raife Merrick is a Drachon. Drachon have no loyalty to anyone but themselves. They cannot be trusted. I allowed your association with him only out of reticent gratitude for saving your life and because he seemed to ease your transition. You are a woman now, Katya. Not a child.”

Katya frowned at her uncle’s clipped, impatient tone. She’d rarely heard him use that voice and never with her. His green eyes seemed cold as he stared at her. She retreated a step.

“Do not worry, Katya.” Elder Grayson laid an arm around her shoulders and turned her to the door. “Ease yourself, Canton. The child is confused. We cannot even begin to understand what she has undergone these past months. You do not want to cause her any further agitation.” The elder’s hand rubbed her shoulder, his voice soothing. “You are back with us now. We will see you are taken care of.”

Heart thundering, Katya glanced around the room. Her muscles tensed with the need to run, to escape the sensation of being trapped that had her chest constricting and her breath hissing in her throat. She had to calm down. Raife claimed he’d returned her to her uncle, that she’d been mated to a Sanguen from Wales. Could she have lost that time completely? Her mind reached for any recollection of the things they described, but the horrid memories of the past several months were too painfully clear to be delusions and did not include Rebels or a bonding ceremony.

No, an overwhelming sense of urgency consumed her. She’d spent the past several months being stripped down to her bare instincts, and right now they were screaming that this was all wrong. She needed to leave. Now.

“No.” Katya wrenched away from the two men and eyed them warily as she back away.

“Katya,” her uncle said softly, his gaze once again flicking to Elder Grayson before he smiled gently at her. “You have obviously undergone a terrible trauma. Just calm yourself. We will take care of everything. You have nothing to fear now that you are back with us.”

Katya shook her head and turned back to the door she’d come through but came to a sudden stop when the door opened and a man in a navy button-down shirt and khaki slacks stepped inside. The Sanguen concept of a combat uniform. If it was possible, her heart sped up. Pivoting on her heel, she started to run for the opposite door, but it was soon filled with another man. The House marshals? Why would the House marshals be here? They were the enforcers of the House.

Katya spun to stare at Elder Grayson where he stood with his arms out, palms up. “My child, you are distraught. Once you have rested and given proper clothing, you will calm down. Please do not resist us. We only want what is best for you.”

Not resist? Those words all by themselves made her want to do just that.

“W-what is this about?” Her eyes darted around the room from her uncle to the elder and back to the marshals as they tightened a circle around her. She couldn’t shimmer out. Not with the amount of silver in this place. She would have to get past them to escape.

“Ms. Schaffer, we do not wish to see you harmed. You must come with us.” The marshal’s voice was laced with authority, threatening.

Swallowing hard, Katya backed up. The one by the main exit advanced on her. She had to get through him. She didn’t want to believe her uncle or Elder Grayson was responsible for her being committed to hell in that lab. She couldn’t, but she also couldn’t trust them. She was not willing to risk the possibility of ever being taken back to the lab. She’d die first.

She was even willing to kill.

A growl rumbled through her as she retreated another step, turning to face the marshals again. Her fingers tingled, and she fisted her hands around the sensation. She would get by them. They couldn’t contain her. She moved across the room in a blur of speed, but the marshal shimmered in front of her to catch her by arm.

Shit. They may not be able to shimmer out of the citadel, but they could still shimmer within it, particularly within one room.

“Restrain her,” Elder Grayson called out. “We need her unharmed.”

He tried to maneuver her arm behind her back, and she felt the brush of cold metal. The shock of the contact splashed over her with the force of an icy wave, washing away her ability to rationalize. She couldn’t be restrained. Not again. Not ever.

With a throaty cry, she whipped agilely around, swiping her free hand at the marshal. He shimmered back, but not before she’d managed to rake his arm with her claws. The blood was a jolt of color in the sudden grays of the world around her. Shocked, she glanced down at her hand, staring in bemusement at the claws protruding from the tips of her fingers.

Holy hell!

“She’s feral.”

Katya darted her gaze back to the marshal; he stood with his feet splayed, hands hovering at his sides. He still blocked her exit, which made her disconcerting growl increase in volume. Blood oozed from four scratches on his arm.

Had she done that? She didn’t take the time to give it much consideration, the drive to escape eclipsing any rational thought.

“Move out of my way.” Her voice sounded unnatural.

“More men are assembling outside this room. There is no way you can escape. Now just calm down. We have no wish to harm you,” the marshal said.

Katya shook her head in impatience. “You said that already,” she snarled. “Tell me something new. Better yet, tell me something I can believe. Now move out of my way.”

“Katya,” her uncle called sternly.

She ignored him, her eyes riveted to the marshal’s hand reaching for his sidearm.

She frantically searched the room for a route of escape. She couldn’t shimmer inside the citadel. If she could just get
outside
the citadel… Her eyes lighted on the stained-glass window. If she remembered correctly, it faced the street side of the citadel and was more than two stories up, but it was her only path to freedom, and she didn’t have the luxury of choices.

Backing up a step, she positioned herself behind a wingback chair. “You boys look a little pale,” Katya taunted. “You’re not afraid of a tiny woman like me, are you?”

They advanced on her, pulling the weapons from their belts, and she tightened her fingers around the back of the chair.

“Or maybe you just need a little sun?” With that she swung the wingback chair in her hands, releasing it to fly through the stained-glass window. One of the marshals made a grab for her, but she was already following the chair out the window.

The sun felt glorious on her face. A revelation of her true self. Relief flooded her. Just as the warmth enclosed her body and the open air curled around her legs, she shimmered.

Katya stumbled back a step at the sudden feel of solid ground beneath her feet.

“She almost makes it too easy.”

Turning, she saw two men wearing dark military-style clothes beneath long black trench coats. Glancing around, she noticed she hadn’t shimmered too far away. Just outside the wrought-iron gate surrounding the Bay House property – where she’d started not an hour ago. Well, damn. She should have had a better idea of where she was going when she jumped.

Before she could think to shimmer, she felt a sharp pain in the back of her right leg and then a hot flare of a burn that had her hissing. She could smell the singe of her own flesh.

“Yes, she does. And here I was looking forward to doing a search of the citadel. I’ve heard the Bay House citadel is a smaller replica of the Triumvirate citadel.”

Katya staggered to the side and glared at the two similarly dressed men behind her. One of them was returning a small cylindrical weapon beneath his coat. She shifted her weight off her injured leg. Damn. What was it with everyone’s desire to shoot her?

“Don’t worry,” the shooter said in a calm, almost consoling tone. “It won’t do serious damage. I got you in the meaty part of your thigh, and it cauterized the opening to stem the flow of blood.”

Katya stared at them, bitterness welling up in her. “Well thanks, I appreciate it. Let me guess…silver?”

The shooter smiled. “Yeah, we’d like for this to be as inconspicuous as possible.”

She stared at him in disbelief and turned a pointed glance at the citadel. Elder Grayson’s wingback chair was lying on its side among brightly colored pieces of the stained-glass window, one leg hanging from its splintered base and the protruding stuffing a stark white against the deep chocolate velvet of the cushion. Glancing up at the second story, she could see the gaping hole in the side of the opulent building. She felt as shattered as that window…pieces of her life glittering around her.

When she turned back to them, she forced a little smile.

“I think we’ve gone beyond inconspicuous, don’t you?”

One of the men sighed. “This means you intend to resist, doesn’t it? I was hoping for an easy retrieval.”

Adrenaline still clamored through her veins. As people started to assemble on the sidewalk, their eyes were for the destruction of the citadel. None even gave them so much as a second look. San Francisco had a diverse population. That was why it was such a popular home base for much of the Arcane.

Glancing speculatively back at the citadel, she frowned. Who were these guys working for? Surely not the citadel. Could they be Rebels? Was there some truth to what her uncle said? Hell, she didn’t know what to believe. The elders would never stoop to hiring outsiders. Drawing the brisk morning air in, she could scent them. Guardian. She recognized the odor, although she didn’t smell the malice or perverse pleasure she associated with Guardians. Of course, her experience was limited to those guarding the research facility. Flaring her senses, she was greeted with a solid wall of calm determination. Loyalty. Duty. The difference had a lump of apprehension congealing in her belly.

“Who are you?” Taking in the assembled crowd, she began to retreat toward the street. A trolley rumbled by with a clang of metal and the trademark whistle. People bustled up and down the sidewalks across the street, focused on getting on with the next hour of their day.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Schaffer.”

Katya’s attention returned to the shooter as he called her by name. They knew her name. Unease prickled down her arms. “We need to bring you back in.”

Back
in
.

No. She couldn’t return to that place.

The cold air buffeted her cheeks as she shot across the street with blurring speed and pulled herself up on the rear of the trolley. A tourist lowered a camera and gave her a startled look at her sudden appearance. He glanced over his shoulder and then down at her with a shrug before lifting his camera to his face again.

Gripping the pole with one hand, she peered around the tourist and saw two of the four Guardians walking steadily toward her, the tails of their trench coats flaring around their legs. Where were the other two? The trolley stopped, and her heart lurched as she felt the subtle shift of energy. She peered in through the window of the trolley and saw the other two moving down the center aisle.

Despair crawled through her, and like it always did, a part of her screamed to call Raife. As a child, she’d connected to him whenever she was upset or threatened. Her uncle loved her, but Raife had always been there, never judging her for her night terrors or emotional outbursts.

She tightened her grip on the pole, dropping her forehead to the cold metal. She wished it were that simple now. She wished she could just call him and his larger-than-life presence would make her feel safe again. Damn, if she could just believe he had nothing to do with her being imprisoned at that place. If she could trust herself not to fall right back into her dependence on him.

What other choice did she have?

She didn’t know who to trust. She just couldn’t believe what her uncle and Elder Grayson told her. Why would they call the marshals to restrain her? She couldn’t turn to her House for help. The Bay House would issue an order on her, and considering she’d just jumped out the second-story window into the sunlight, she could only guess what that order would be. Sanguen Houses didn’t tolerate contamination to the bloodlines, especially one as powerful as the Bay House. If she could tolerate sun, then it stood to reason she wasn’t a pureblood. Forget that she’d sprouted claws and growled.

She couldn’t petition the Triumvirate for protection. If they knew about her, they would be sending out their own hunting party. Cross-speciation was forbidden under the terms of the Arcane Alliance.

She didn’t know where else to go. But she wasn’t going back, and that only left forward.