“I had my first kiss by that window,” I said with a nostalgic smile. “His name was Danny, and he wore braces. Mom locked me outside to teach me a lesson, and I slept on that porch until dawn. When I was seven, I split my lip on a tire swing in the backyard, and I used to run through the sprinklers on hot summer afternoons. After I left home, I visited mom and helped her with the yard a lot. You’ve always been a Chitah, but I know what I’m missing out on.”
“What of
that
life are you truly giving up?” he asked, leaning against the car.
“Not having someone trying to kill me, for one.”
“Humans are killed all the time,” he replied.
“Having children.”
He had no counter for that; Mage could not have children. I never really thought much about having kids, but having that option stolen from me brought an unexpected sadness.
Logan rested his head on top of mine. When something brushed against my leg, I looked down, squinting in the dark.
Meow?
It asked
.
Two eyes looked up at me—one green and one yellow.
“Max!”
I scooped up the big cat in my arms, forgetting that I wasn’t Zoë anymore. Max didn’t like strangers; hell, that cat didn’t care much for anyone. He let out another demanding groan, and I jerked my neck back, worried he might take a swipe at me. Instead, Max loved me up with an affectionate head-butt.
“Looks like this one knows you.”
I nuzzled my face in his fur. “What are you doing outside, panther boy? Doesn’t my mom know you’re an indoor cat?” I kissed his head and set him down.
Max circled my feet and I smiled sadly. Logan squatted down and made a peculiar chirping sound that had an immediate reaction from Max, who rubbed against his knee as if they were old pals.
Logan stood up with my cat in his arms, scratching his head. “Jiminy. He’s a
big
boy.”
I brushed away the hairs from my face. “I can’t believe he knows me.”
“He knows you because he loves you.”
Logan flattened the soft ears with a single stroke. Seeing my cat sharpened the pain of the life I left behind—the person I once was. This trip was closure for me, something I needed.
Max purred and I closed my eyes, reminiscing. The wind brushed through the trees and a cricket sang a one-note melody. It was a distant song of my forgotten life, drifting on the winds of my past. It was fading over time, becoming lost to me. One day—maybe hundreds of years from now—all of this would be gone. I lifted Max from Logan’s arms.
“I’ll always love you.” I kissed his nose and placed him on the warm concrete. He looked up with those needy eyes, and before I became upset, I walked around the car and got inside.
Logan rubbed the corner of his eye with the heel of his hand. “Tomorrow night when you meet with Marco, I’ll be outside on the grounds. I want you to stay near the windows.”
“Just don’t blow my cover. I hope he still keeps in touch with the benefactor.”
“Maybe you should look inside his drawers for Christmas cards.” Logan punched the accelerator and we headed back to the hotel.
A television in my room was the equivalent of dying and going to heaven. I stayed up all night watching movies.
In the morning, I ordered pancakes with sausages and slept until noon. Eventually, I shuffled out of bed and dragged my feet across the tight fibers of the carpet when something caught my eye. Sitting in front of the door was a white slip of paper. I reached down and snapped it up with two fingers.
Change of plans. Meet with me at your earliest convenience.
Do not bring your friend.
-De Gradi
Marco knew Logan was with me, but I couldn’t be sure if he had us followed to my mother’s house. I didn’t like that he peeked at my cards before I was ready to show my hand.
Logan was in the hotel room next door. Because he was more attuned to scent—and I had no idea how sensitive it was—I put Marco out of my head while getting dressed. I didn’t want to risk bringing Logan if it meant jeopardizing my only opportunity to get information.
Marco lived in an exclusive neighborhood—the kind with a gated property and long driveways. The train took me far enough that I could walk the rest of the way. My finger pushed the call button and the gate clicked open.
As I walked along the driveway, I noticed that a lot of money went into designing his mansion. The landscaping alone would have cost more than a year’s rent at my old apartment. The lawn smelled freshly cut, and the tall trees swayed overhead like watchful giants. I squinted from the bright sunlight and rang the doorbell. The same older man who presented me with the invitation opened the door.
“Come this way. Mr. De Gradi is expecting you,” he said flatly. I captured a strong scent of lemon when I stepped inside.
My heels clicked against the glassy floor and I paused when I entered a spacious room. The windows were tremendous, and had not a smudge on them. The focal point was a grand piano where Marco sat. His fingers lightly stroked the keys, and a haunting melody of no particular origin sent chills up my spine.
“I should apologize for the change in plans, but I won’t. I am a busy man, and have no—”
“Well if you are too busy to keep your engagements, then I’ll leave.”
Marco flashed across the room and blocked my exit. “Who are you with and what brings you here?”
“Your invitation brought me here.”
He folded his arms and pinched at his beard. “Explain your business in my bar.”
“I was ordering a drink. Is that a crime?”
Marco angered at my literal answers. “If you were a man I would have knocked you on the floor. I have no patience for lies, so I am offering you one last chance to speak the truth.”
“I was sent.”
His expression fell. “Who sent you?”
“Who do you
think
?”
I mirrored his stance, widening my legs and folding my arms.
“Don’t play games with me. Why are you here?”
“I don’t think he would appreciate me breaking his confidence, do you? These are private business affairs; you’re just the detour.”
Marco drew a sharp intake of air and I took that as my cue to walk around him and reach for the door.
His voice rang out like the sound of a gunshot in a church, echoing a name I had longed to hear, that when it fell upon my ears, I went deaf.
“Nero has not paid in full, you tell him that.”
My fingers loosened from the knob… trembling.
Nero
, my mind whispered. “Not all obligations were filled.”
“I did what he asked!” he shouted. “He cannot blame me for Samil’s failure. I found her, and that was my job.”
“Samil is dead,” I said, looking over my shoulder.
Marco blanched and stepped back.
“I don’t believe it. How?”
I lightly shrugged, staring at the brass knob on the door. “Sometimes people get what’s coming to them.”
I grew nervous about staying a minute longer when no one knew where I was. I had the name I needed, and that was enough.
“Samil was the only Creator who could make one so strong. I cannot believe Nero would have done this—no matter how much he despised him, Nero is not a stupid man. Samil was far too valuable a Mage to dispose of. His ability was one we had never seen.”
“Marco, I’m not here to threaten you. I was curious what a failure looked like up close. Now that I know, I have other matters to attend to.”
Chapter 20
“Like I said before, I can handle myself. I don’t need your permission to do anything, Mr. Cross.”
Logan hated it when I used his last name, so I made a conscious effort to do it when I was upset with him.
I slid my beer on the smooth surface of the bar, waiting for his reply. With the sudden change in plans, our evening was free. I suggested a trip to a local dive for a few drinks. It would be nice to unwind and have a little fun. I might as well enjoy it; once I returned to Cognito, my social life would be at a crawl.
“You seem to forget that you are just an obstinate young Mage, ill-equipped to handle yourself around one more experienced,” Logan said.
“Stop using fancy words, they’re unbecoming on your tongue.”
Well, that just disgusted me. “He said that?”
“Now you’ve put me in a position where my integrity is in question.”
“Integrity? Exactly who are you to me? You’re not my Ghuardian, brother, best friend, lover—”
Logan spun out of his seat and stalked off, flicking his hand in the air. I took a disgusted sip of my drink and did a little growling of my own.
My phone began to vibrate.
“Hello?”
“Er… ows… eating you?”
“Hold on, Simon, I can’t hear you,” I shouted, moving into a quiet hallway. “Sorry, the music is loud so speak up. Are you there?”
“Having a good time? Just promise me you’ll stay off the dance floor, love. Don’t worry, I won’t tell Justus as long as you don’t end up on the news for sparking half of the city. I know we spoke earlier, but I’m guessing you’re alone now?”
“I’m alone. Why?”
“Do you think you can arrange another meeting? I want to ruffle his feathers a little more. It might stir him up enough that he’ll come back to Cognito.”
“I can try, but he doesn’t like me very much.”
Simon gave me a quick rundown of a few more questions, so it would not be a wasted opportunity with the remaining time we had. I could sense his frustration, as he would have done a far better job interrogating the man. He wanted to mention Justus, in hopes of luring him back to Cognito.
“Having fun with Knox?”
“Gigantor plays a mean game of poker.”
“Well I’m glad you found a playmate. Maybe the two of you can get your freak on with a game of Twister. I’ll call you later.”
I tucked the phone in my back pocket and made a beeline for the bar. A boisterous laugh slipped out when I thought about Knox and Simon tangled up, reaching for a color, when Knox slips and crushes Simon like a bug. My thoughts cut off when I crashed into someone.
“I’m so sorry!” I clung to his shirt before I lost my balance.
“Watch your step.”
Every hair on my arm stood on end when he spoke.
In a past life, I was much shorter and weaker. I changed, but he didn’t. The military haircut was still his thing. He always wore sleeveless shirts to show off a vile dragon tattoo that crawled down his arm like a demon in a nightmare. He still wore the same cheap cologne.
With a twist of my arm, I broke the grip he had on me.
“Do I know you?” he asked, narrowing a pair of hazel eyes at me.
The minute they locked on mine, I was Zoë Merrick. Time crawled, as if everyone around us moved at a slower speed.
Brandon was my ex-boyfriend who chiseled me down to a woman who would never trust again. Words tangled in my mouth, and when he reached out with his thick fingers, I slapped his hand.
“Bitch,” he muttered, turning on a heel to walk away.
One focal point drew my attention above all else. It centered me, and became my northern star before I went adrift.
Golden eyes cut across the room like glass. It was with perfect clarity I saw Logan extract himself from a conversation, stalking across the room until he filled the empty space in front of me.
“Who frightens you?”
“I want to go home.”
Logan bent down so that our cheeks touched, and his breath warmed my ear. His voice grew softer, and more dangerous. “Which one is he?”
The growl barely registered, but I heard it.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
He tilted my chin up with his finger, delicately lifting a scent in the air. Hooded eyes masked the obsidian color that was swelling in the center.
“Emotions are like flavors,” he said, stepping in closer. “They blend, and only a skilled Chitah can interpret their meaning. Your scent tells me everything. It’s thick like a forest after the rain. This is the same emotion you threw off on the airplane—anger and shame. Only now, it mingles with a sharp scent that burns my eyes. I know that scent…
all
Chitah know the smell of fear.” He sniffed lightly.