Defy (35 page)

Quincy made quick work of examining and
treating Ariana with what supplies he had, but he soon realized
that she needed more intensive healing than he could provide. Tate
regained enough of her control to send a thought to Tiege, who
verbalized the need to their father, who sent a thought out to
Uncle Gabriel, who finally shared the thought with
archigos
Ini-herit.

While waiting for the others, Tate issued a
disjointed and tear-filled recap of the past few days. She knew she
made little sense, but Sophia just held her and made sympathetic
sounds.

The sight of her father’s wings in the
distance had Tate wiping her face and struggling to regain her
composure. She didn’t need Tiege teasing her about being a baby.
Despite her efforts, though, when they landed and she saw the
emotion on both their faces, she couldn’t control herself. Tiege
had barely unlatched the flight harness before she threw herself
into his arms. He crushed her in a fierce hug.

“Thank God,” he said. His voice was
hoarse.

“Thanks for coming for me,” she said, though
she wasn’t sure her words were coherent because her breath hitched
so much as she spoke.

Her near-hysteria only got worse when she
faced her father. The moment when he stepped up to her and put his
arms around her felt surreal. She didn’t know how it was possible
to have so many emotions pound through her at once.

She started with shame and remorse. “I’m so
sorry, Daddy. I should’ve listened—”

“Stop it, sweetheart,” he interrupted.
“Just…let me hold you for a minute.”

This time, she listened.

Zachariah stood and faced the Estilorian he
respected above all others—the elder he had gladly served for
centuries. And silently wished he was anywhere else on the entire
plane.

Although there was plenty of noise around
them as stray Mercesti were routed out and the Waresti gathered
around
archigos
Uriel and his commanders to discuss what had
occurred and what still needed to be done, Zachariah felt as though
he was utterly alone.

Alone with
archigos
Gabriel. And alone
to face the truth about himself…something he had been trying to
escape for fifty years.

“Did you kill Luvania?” Gabriel asked,
breaking the silence.

Zachariah frowned. “Do not be absurd.”

“It had to be asked. Your name was the last
word she uttered.”

“I was the last to see her alive on the
mainland,” he admitted. He didn’t bother to go into more
detail.

Several minutes passed in silence. Zachariah
barely resisted rolling his eyes in resignation as a series of
powerful emotions rushed through him. Even though their connection
was fading, he knew that they were Tate’s. What she felt was so
intense that those feelings were conveyed to him. Once the danger
passed, he knew, the connection would all but disappear. He told
himself he was glad about that.

Eventually, if only to get on with things, he
spoke again. “So what happens if I choose not to talk? Do you plan
to stand there for the rest of your existence?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

Glowering, he grumbled, “I do not remember
you being this stubborn.”

“Just meet my wife,” Gabriel drawled. “You’ll
understand why I had to adopt the trait.” When another period of
silence passed, he continued, “I think you owe me this much after
dropping off the plane for five decades, Zachariah.”

Knowing he was right didn’t make it any
easier to stomach. “What the hell do you want to know? I should
think the reason for my absence is pretty damn clear.”

“That isn’t remotely an acceptable enough
response.”

“Just what will satisfy you?”

“The facts of what occurred to convert
you.”

Zachariah felt his jaw clench and focused on
relaxing it. He started to pace, as though the movement could help
him escape this conversation. Running a hand through his hair, he
ground out, “How will my telling you about the experience possibly
make any difference?”

“Why are you rubbing your chest? Do you have
another injury that I didn’t heal?”

Deliberately pulling his hand down and
cursing himself for not realizing he was once again trying to rub
away the ache his connection to the blasted female caused, he
growled, “I am fine. I am just ready to be done with this pointless
conversation.”

“Pointless?” Gabriel’s voice reflected anger
and disbelief. “You think it’s pointless to want to know what
happened to my second commander? Someone I trusted? Someone I cared
about? Someone I mourned as much as I was able at the time?”

Despite himself, Zachariah found himself
bringing his hand back up to rub the center of his chest. He
convinced himself that the pain there was still a result of his
connection to Tate. “I am sorry if you feel—”

“What do you know of feelings?” Gabriel
rejoined. “If you had any, you would’ve come to me fifty years ago
and explained what happened to you.”

“And how could I have done that?” Zachariah
asked bitterly before he thought better of it. He once again
clenched his jaw as he thought of how to clarify his unguarded
statement. “I—”

“Don’t start lying to me,” Gabriel said,
watching him consideringly. “You don’t actually know what happened
when you converted, do you?”

Zachariah’s mind flashed back fifty years. He
had led a group of younger recruits on a routine training trip to
the mainland. While there, they engaged a group of Mercesti. The
next thing he remembered was the wall of red…followed by returning
to his senses and seeing the results of the horrors of which he was
capable.

“I do not remember,” he said at last, coming
to a halt in front of his former governing elder. “I do not want to
remember.”

“Zachariah,” Gabriel said, reaching out to
grasp his arm. “We discovered a number of years ago that many
Estilorians were influenced by Mercesti with strong mental powers
to commit the acts that converted them. You might not be to blame
for what happened.”

Zachariah blinked in response to the words.
He quickly squelched the small feeling of hope that dared present
itself. “Even if that is true, the Mercesti would not have
succeeded in influencing me if the trait was not already a part of
me.”

“No one’s perfect, Zachariah. We all have
thoughts and feelings that can be influenced by someone powerful
enough. If you come back with me, I can have Malukali scan your
mind.” Gabriel caught his gaze and held it. “We can find out for
certain what happened that day.”

Sparky hadn’t come with them.

Almost two weeks after she’d been rescued,
Tate sat in her room, trying very hard to enjoy a day of pampering
and primping. She plastered a smile on her face when it seemed
appropriate and managed to laugh at the right times. But inside,
she ached.

She had learned through conversations with
her parents since her return that Uncle Gabriel offered Sparky the
option of coming back to be scanned by Malukali. The scan would
tell them whether he had been influenced to commit the act that had
converted him to Mercesti. If that had been the case, there was the
possibility of it one day being reversed. Although it hadn’t been
determined how, the elders believed they would find a way.

But Sparky hadn’t come.

Uncle Gabriel let him go, seeing no reason to
force him to undergo the scan. While Sparky hadn’t said a thing
about saving Tate from Nyx’s toxin and watching over her in the
days that followed, her uncle was intelligent enough to reason out
some of it on his own. By the time she found out about the offer of
the scan, she was back home and Sparky was long gone.

She still dreamed of him. It wasn’t the same.
He didn’t interact with her like he did when they had been bonded.
Rather than argue with her, insult her and order her away, he was
usually nice to her and doing his best to kiss her senseless in her
dreams. For some reason, although the dreams were what most beings
would consider “good,” they left her feeling hollow.

When the door to her bedroom opened, she
looked up to see her mother entering the room. Ariana, Brenna and
Evangeline, the three Lekwuesti helping her get ready, also looked
up.

“Oh, Tate!” her mother breathed, bringing a
hand to her mouth.

Blushing, Tate turned her gaze to her lap.
She heard her mother dismiss the Lekwuesti, saying she wanted to
finish any remaining preparations.

“You’re so beautiful, honey.”

Tate looked in the mirror in front of her.
Her mother sat beside her on the vanity bench and caught her gaze.
The understanding she saw there had Tate shifting her eyes
uncomfortably to her own reflection.

She wore a lovely sapphire blue gown. It had
off-the-shoulder cap sleeves, a scooped neckline and an empire
waist. The flowing skirts reached her slippered feet. Her hair had
been tamed and straightened with one of the Lekwuesti’s empowered
implements and swept up into a sleek and elegant design. Evangeline
used her second power to color Tate’s hair all brown. Although it
wasn’t her natural color or style, everyone thought the look would
be less awkward for Tate’s coming introductions to a bunch of
beings she didn’t know.

Tate didn’t like the idea of being paired
with someone who might not like her for how she normally looked,
unusual hair and all. But she didn’t utter one word of
objection.

“Why are you so unhappy, honey?” her mother
asked.

Tate’s mouth opened. She watched as her
features, enhanced with makeup she had never worn before, quickly
worked to shape themselves into a happier expression.

“Please tell me.”

This time, Tate didn’t bother trying to fool
her intuitive mother. Instead, she looked at her hands folded in
her lap. They had conversed many times about her experience away
from home and her time with Sparky. Still, she was hesitant to
discuss what was in her heart. Eventually, she asked, “Mom, when
did you know you loved Dad?”

Her mother waited until she looked up again.
Her arm moved around Tate’s waist. Although her head only came to
Tate’s nose, she somehow—in a good, indescribably maternal way—made
Tate feel like she was still a child.

“I knew immediately,” her mother said.

“You did?”

“Yep.” She reached up to Tate’s hair and
adjusted one of the jeweled hairpins. “And I think when the time
comes, you’ll fall in love just as quickly. You know your mind,
sweetie.”

“But…what if he’s someone you and Dad don’t
like?”

If her mother thought her questions were odd,
she didn’t say so. Instead, she again caught her gaze and gave her
a hug from her spot on the bench. “I’ll love anyone you do,
honey.”

Tate appreciated the words, even if she
couldn’t quite believe them.

After a moment, her mother said in a
deliberately cheerful voice, “I can’t believe you and Tiege are
about to turn eighteen.”

Knowing it was what she sought, Tate gave her
mother a smile. In her head, though, she wished she could stay
seventeen forever. Then she wouldn’t be facing this pairing
ceremony because her parents wanted her to be guarded once she
could fly. Unfortunately, she knew after two weeks of arguing that
there was no getting around it.

“Thanks for the pep talk, Mom. I know you
came to get me for the ceremony. I’m ready to go,” she said.

And was very grateful that she was the only
one who could read it for the lie it was.

“You’re here today because we’ve determined
you to be the best candidates for pairing with my niece, Tate. This
is not a duty to be taken lightly.”

Tate stood next to her parents in the grassy
area next to the training paddock as her Uncle Gabriel spoke. She
held her hands clutched in front of her to avoid wringing them and
stared at a neutral point between the shoulders of two of the males
standing across from them.

Uncle Gabriel had spent hours over the past
week in conversations with her dad and Uncle James, as well as the
Gloresti commander Hitoshi and second commander Balduin, to
determine the top ten Gloresti candidates for pairing with her. She
hadn’t been told how long the pairing would last. The situation was
unusual because she wasn’t transitioning between the planes, the
circumstance under which a pairing was typically created. Instead,
she was about to inherit what amounted to a highly dedicated
bodyguard.

Her uncle continued, “We’ve given Tate the
past two hours to meet each of you. I’ll now turn to her and ask
which of you she chooses.”

A flush heated her cheeks as all eyes turned
to her. In attendance at the ceremony were her parents, her aunts
and uncles, the elders, Tiege, C.K., Sophia and Quincy. And, of
course, the ten Gloresti males even then awaiting her decision.

The fact was, any one of them was as good as
the next. She hadn’t noted anything particularly remarkable about
any of them. They all seemed well-trained and polite. She imagined
they would each do a bang-up job of keeping her out of trouble. And
they would be her obligated shadow for an unknown length of time.
It was suddenly too much to bear.

Glancing up, she said in a quiet voice,
“Dad…”

“Tate, we’ve had this conversation.” He
caught her gaze and reached over to give her arm a squeeze.

Pursing her lips, she nodded. She didn’t
agree with him, but the last time she had defied him, it hadn’t
turned out well. Walking forward as she had been instructed so that
she stood in the center of the circle of spectators, she looked
from one Gloresti to the next.

“I choose Maddock,” she said eventually.

The male bowed and stepped forward to join
her in the center of the circle. She read the satisfaction in his
dark blue eyes as he approached. His blond hair was cut close
enough to his head that she imagined it felt like fuzz when
touched. Like his peers, he was tall and muscular with a number of
pairing markings lining his skin.