Tethers
“Oh, shame,” I said, rolling my eyes when he exaggeratedly slowed down. “Hey,” I said after a few minutes of silence. “Have you ever had any dealings with mediums?”
“Mediums?”
“You know, people who see the dead.”
“Oh. Not that I can recall. Why?”
“You know how Emmett can see spirits sometimes? Well, Peter ran into this woman who claims Emmett needs a guide, and apparently, she’ll do.”
“I see.” He thought about it for a minute. “I can see why a child would need a guide, to help them separate what is real and what’s not. It must be confusing for a small child to see spirits and living people together and not have either acknowledge the other.”
“I can sense spirits sometimes,” I said sulkily. “I could guide him.”
“But you’re not a medium. If this woman is a medium, then perhaps she has experience with…” He gave me a curious look. “Are you upset about it?”
“Upset? No. But I don’t know her. She could be weird.”
He blinked a couple of times. “Peter told me that I’m weird.”
“Nobody’s letting you babysit Emmett, though, are they?” Then I realised what I had said and how foolish my concerns even sounded. “Just ignore me. I’m feeling… odd about it, that’s all.”
“Left out?” he asked.
“When did you get all perceptive and shit?”
He shot me a steady look. “I’ve had experiences, too, you know.”
“Yeah, but you’re very removed from them. You are weird, but you have a right to be after the life you’ve had.”
“Because I can’t remember my wife or because I can’t remember my children?”
“Both, obviously. But this woman is a human who happens to see ghosts. I mean, that’s different.”
“Do you think Lucia had difficulties as a child? Being unable to talk and having visions? That must have been terrifying for her.”
I realised too late that we were on a bad subject. “She had Lorcan to look after her.” Seeing his crestfallen face, I took his hand and stopped walking. “It’s not your fault, Phoenix. You did everything you could to be with your family. Your mother took your memories, took everything away from you. You can’t feel guilty about that. Lorcan did a great job of caring for himself and Lucia, and she did a great job of giving Lorcan the strength to do all of that. They got that from their parents.”
“He’s angry with me,” he said. “Lorcan will always resent me in some way. I don’t think even he knows why. Not completely.”
“He was so busy surviving before that he never really had a chance to process how his life turned out. I think maybe he feels like he’s wasted a lot of years as a vampire slave, then more hiding and fighting in the war here. He needs to spread his wings a bit and figure out who he wants to be before he can get to know who you are.”
His expression softened. “You’re quite good at that.”
I was confused. “At what?”
“Making sense to me. It’s easy to be on top of things when it comes to the Senate, but with my own family, I feel slightly lost. Then you say a few words, and everything seems better. How do you do that? It’s a skill I’d like to use on Lorcan.”
I bit my lip to stop from laughing. “That sounds like you want me to teach you to manipulate Lorcan. Just show him you care, and it’ll all work out.”
Icarus howled suddenly, and Phoenix blinked and took a step away from me. “He’s found it. We should go.”
As he headed on along the path, I was struck by the similarities between Phoenix and Peter. Each had lost his son early. Neither had thought to find a family again. Neither knew quite how to connect with his son. And I was the one they both turned to for help. Me, who would never have a child of my own, who had never had a loving family, either. I wasn’t certain if I was giving them advice or telling them what I would want from my parents if I somehow met them—if they turned out to have been alive all along. I shuddered. I had never realised how hard it must have been for Lorcan and Emmett to reunite with fathers they didn’t really remember.
Lorcan’s memories came from Lucia’s visions, he had once admitted to me, and Emmett had been so young when he was kidnapped that he hadn’t even realised he had a father. The misery that had filled their lives was over, but the desire to forget the past and move on was just that: a desire. Nobody had actually taught Lorcan or Emmett to deal with the past or how to move beyond it. Emmett couldn’t even talk about his past.
There had to be something I could do to help everyone. Weirdly, Peter and Emmett were suddenly getting along a lot better than before, while Phoenix and Lorcan had moved farther apart. Who was I to say what was right or wrong in that situation?
I trod through the trees, wondering why exactly Phoenix would turn to me for help. He could go anywhere, find anyone, and boss the world if he wanted to, but when he came to me for help, he was as fragile and innocent as a child. Carl had once warned me that Phoenix couldn’t be a replacement for Peter, that I couldn’t go from trying to fix one man to the next. At the time, I had been annoyed, but I had begun to wonder.
Chapter Sixteen
The second crime scene didn’t resemble a crime scene at all at first glance. Aside from a patch of flattened grass near a tree, the area was as it should have been. But Icarus was beyond the spacious glade, standing next to a dense grouping of trees and guarding what I imagined was the real scene of the murder.
“This is where the body was dragged,” Phoenix said. “It’s almost as if the kills happen away from view and then later are dragged into the light.”
“That’s creepy,” I said, trudging into deeper undergrowth.
Icarus moved on, leading us to a narrow clearing that had obviously seen some action. The grass and plants had been torn up, blood splattered the trunks of the trees, and the air still held the scent of death. “This is it,” I said. “This is where it happened.”
“Did she try to fight back?” Phoenix asked as he paused next to a distinct bloody handprint on a tree.
“It’s messy, but it’s not…” I whirled around in a circle, trying to figure out exactly what was bothering me. “You know what? This is a pretty small space. Icarus is just sitting there, and he practically takes up all the room. How would a werewolf fight or kill something here without, I don’t know, knocking a tree down or something?”
Icarus chuffed as though he agreed.
“It’s possible a werewolf could have killed here,” Phoenix said, “but very unlikely if the attack was as frenzied as the evidence leads us to believe. The Senate can’t possibly believe the werewolves did this when I tell them everything we’ve found.”
That was a bit naïve. Unless we found the perpetrator, most people wouldn’t care about the details.
“Why don’t they clean up this mess?” I asked, desperate to get out of the death site.
“Is the blood bothering you?”
“No, it’s dead.” I shivered at his surprised glance. “That sounded wrong. Since I joined the Eleven, I haven’t had as much trouble with my thirst issues.” Or the counting issues, for that matter. “It’s just that anyone could walk by and see all of this.”
“They don’t want people to come here again,” he explained. “If something is hunting nearby, the fewer people around, the better. The main routes that lead here have been blocked off. One would have to travel a mile off the tracks to find this.”
“That’ll just intrigue those who shouldn’t be here,” I said. “The thought of kids being curious about the crime scene and coming across the killer instead is going to haunt my dreams.”
“Not many people know the exact location.” He looked around. “We have to find this creature before anyone else does.”
“It’ll take luck or else a lot of time spent searching.”
“The farmer we visited,” he said. “What was the Senate’s response to him?”
“They said they’d reimburse him.” I made a fac
e. “They’re going to be broke if they have to keep reimbursing people for stuff like this.”
He sighed. “We’re going to be broke. You have to stop thinking of it as us and them.”
“We would never have put the werewolves to death.”
“You’re the only person who tried to do anything to stop it. That makes me sad.”
“Shay did help in the best way he could. And most people didn’t actually know about it.”
“But you’re the one the Senate chose to lock up. You were their biggest threat. Or the werewolves’ biggest advocate.”
“That’s what Willow asked me to be. She didn’t seem to like it when I advocated for the werewolves, though. The Senate have been keeping their heads in the sand, big time.”
He glanced at me. “This is why you should be on the Senate.”
I groaned. “No bloody way.”
“You could help me do a lot of good.”
“Nope. I would lose my mind within a week and kill the rest of the Senate.”
He shrugged. “Would that really be so bad?”
“Yes! Besides, I’m not a leader. I don’t want to have to deal with stupid politicians and annoying paragons.”
“Don’t remind me. You know what the scary part is, Ava? That paragon could go on a killing spree, and I wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it.”
“What? Why?”
“The paragons are a higher power. As in, they have more power than I ever will, and they’re above our laws.”
“They’re not above the Eleven,” I whispered. “And the Eleven hate the paragons because they came after them before. When I confronted Regis, I felt the Eleven with me, as though they were watching me, adding their power to mine. It was… disturbing, and it’s just another reason why I couldn’t be on the Senate—there’s no way I could remain fair.”
“You’re just making me want you on the Senate all the more. Imagine having another kind of power with us. That could be useful.” He sounded interested then deflated. “But the paragons have armies. These armies destroy their enemies. And we have rapidly become Regis’s enemy. Do you know how one becomes a paragon?”
I shook my head.
“They claim to have a noble proving, one that will fit the right person to the job, but it’s a lot simpler than that. The one thing all of the paragons have in common is their own personal armies. Those with power… rule.”
“Why don’t they turn on each other then?” I asked. “Get rid of the competition.”
“They do. They won’t admit it often, but they spend more time conniving and looking for weakness in their peers than they do actually influencing Senates and Councils.”
“See what I mean?” I shook my head and unthinkingly reached out to pet Icarus while he was sniffing at something. “I couldn’t—ow!”
Icarus had snapped his head around and laid his fangs on my arm. He pulled back at the last second, leaving bloody red stripes behind. If he had meant to bite, I likely wouldn’t have had an arm left.
“You shouldn’t disturb him when he’s following a scent like this,” Phoenix scolded as he approached.
The werewolf licked my wound once before turning his back on me.
Phoenix moved my other hand out of the way and pressed a stark-white handkerchief against the wound. “It’s not so deep. It’ll be fine.”
“Hey, thanks for the bucketloads of sympathy,” I remarked, only half-joking.
He blinked at me in surprise. “But you’re strong. I know you can take it.”
That set off a weird whirlwind of emotion inside me. On the one hand, I wanted him to show concern for me for what was likely a completely childish reason. On the other, I felt good knowing he saw me as somebody who could take care of herself, as someone on par with him. That was oddly gratifying, and my chest warmed.
I smiled up at him, and he cocked his head to the side, a curious look on his face.
“What?” I said, faltering under the intensity of his gaze.
“When you smile like that, I want to smile back.”
I rubbed the nape of my neck self-consciously. “Smiles are catching.”
“No, it’s different.” He tipped my chin to force me to look at him. “Do it again.”
I brushed him off. “I’m not a toy.”
“No, I didn’t mean…” He tutted. “I’m sorry. I’m not good at… being normal.”
“I know,” I said softly. “That’s okay. I wouldn’t know normal if it slapped me in the face with a fish.”
I did laugh then, at the look on his face, and he grinned back, his face softening.
“This is what I mean,” he said, and he moved noticeably closer. “I’m able to smile. It’s not a chore. It’s real. Is that what friendship is, Ava? Or is it…” He bit his lip.
He had nice lips. I mean, it wasn’t like I was constantly checking him out or anything, but I wasn’t made of ice. I had thought about what it would be like if Phoenix and I took things in another direction, maybe more often than was healthy. I didn’t need another stunted relationship, and Phoenix wasn’t ready for anything closely resembling a relationship anyway. But sometimes I got lonely.
“When I was away, I discovered some things about my past,” he said in a low voice. “I saw memories of Helena and me. I saw my own happiness, joy, anger, and pain, and none of it felt real. Not like this. You’re the only one who doesn’t judge me. Even Lorcan can’t…”
“All Lorcan needs is time.”
“He looked at me like he hated me.”
“He doesn’t hate you. Family is important to him.” I caught sight of a ring on his finger. “Is that new?”
“Only to me.”
I took his hand to take a closer look. His fingers were cold and covered in my blood. My wound had stopped bleeding, but it was deep enough to make a mess. I ran my thumb over the surface of the silver ring to wipe away a crimson smear, and a shiver crept up my spine. I had been around enough relics to know when I was in the presence of one. “It feels ancient.”
“It is,” he whispered as though in awe himself. “It’s a family heirloom. It was my father’s, and it was brought to me by some of his kin who returned to Ireland after Fionnuala’s death. They’ve told me stories of him.”
“That’s so great.” I glanced at him. His cheeks were flushed with colour.
“They want me to lead them properly,” he said. “To tell them what to do, to lead them, to build an army of our own.”
“Slightly more ominous.”
“They’re old-fashioned,” he said. “But they want things to be different than before. My mother gave up on a lot of our ways in exchange for things she needed to personally grow in power. All the fae want now is for me to help them restore their pride once again.”
“So they accept the twins?” I made to let go of his hand, but he held mine instead.
“Most of them do, yes.”
“And they don’t mind that you just up and leave them?”
He covered my hand with his. “I’m sorry if that made you unhappy.”
“I barely saw you even before that. Ever since the whole thing with the first vampire kidnapping Lucia…”
He squeezed my hand. “I’m no longer angry about that, but I felt… uncomfortable around you. I was so angry at the time. I recognised the distress in your eyes when I blamed you, and it made me fear I was becoming my mother.”
“You’ll never be her,” I said fiercely.
He hesitated before brushing strands of hair away from my face. “Peter told me something about you that’s been playing on my mind.”
“Oh?” I tried to sound light-hearted, but dread dragged my tone down. “Care to share?”
“He’s very angry with me still. Over my anger about Lucia, and from before. The time when I used the whip on you to convince my mother I was still on her side.”
I froze. “Peter’s a very angry person.”
“He told me you still have nightmares about that day.”
br /> “How would he even know that?” I snapped, letting go and turning my back on him. My breaths grew ragged. Does everyone know I have nightmares? They didn’t know that Phoenix never wielded the whip in my dreams—other people did. The dead, my past tormenters, all of my fears held a whip in my dreams. But never Phoenix.
He rested his hands on my shoulders. “You said he kissed you. I assumed you and he were…”
“No, not since he left.”
The grip on my shoulders tightened. “You don’t like it when people leave.”
I refused to answer. I had been alone for so long that losing my friends and returning to a solitary life had become my biggest fear. I didn’t want to be that lost soul ever again.
He slid one of his hands upward until his fingertips touched the bare skin on my neck. “I had to leave, but I’ve been having trouble figuring out some things. Things to do with you. Feelings that I… I’m very confused, Ava. I had a life I don’t remember, and when you touch me, I wonder how I felt before. I’m not sure I’ll ever recover enough to share my life with another person. Not again. Not after everything that happened.”
I turned to face him. “I know that. It must feel crazy for you, but I told you that you could see my old memories of Helena if you wanted, and I’m sure Lucia is willing to show you more memories about how much you loved your wife.”
“But nobody can show me how I felt,” he said, looking frustrated. “Seeing isn’t the same as feeling. Nobody can help me feel that way again.”
“No, they can’t. And I’m sorry for that. The only thing that can fill in the blanks is your imagination.”
“But I don’t even know how to picture it,” he said mournfully.
“If it were me, I’d imagine the perfect love, something that couldn’t be broken. If nothing will compare to that, then there’s no point trying to make anything else the same, so it’s okay when whatever comes next is different.”
“Is that what you do to yourself? To get over your ex?”
The one whose memory you took away at my request?
“I used to,” I admitted. “But that love was perfect for a different version of me. You said it yourself—I’m strong, and I can take it. But I wasn’t strong then, and I needed somebody to help me see that people could be trusted. Now I know that there’s a good mix of all kinds of people in the world, and none of that matters as long as I’m comfortable being me. And I am. This is who I am, and I’m glad of it. But I get lonely, too.”