Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Kian
“Well, that went well,” Teariki exclaims with a heavy layer of sarcasm, as he struts back into the suite after seeing Vladlena out.
“I suppose it could have gone worse,” I counter and take a sip of my champagne.
I had hoped we would be toasting to the successful collection of a remarkably valuable asset—one that would be exceptionally useful given the difficulties that may arise over the next few years.
This is a good deal for her. We were gracious, much more than we could have been.
And I need this to proceed seamlessly. Our necks are on the line.
“She didn’t seem too thrilled,” Teariki mumbles, taking a seat in the chair across from me.
“No, she didn’t.” I sigh. I’m not usually involved in collections, but from what Teariki has explained, they typically go smoothly.
Of course, the subjects are usually much younger and have some awareness of what they are, with questions about what they’re experiencing and how their bodies are changing.
According to Ariki, we swoop in like, and I quote, a “middle school health education teacher and give the magica equivalent of the puberty talk,” and they’re so ecstatic to have answers that they fall at our feet.
“How does she not know what she is? Or at least suspect it?” Ariki questions.
“I’m not sure. Frankly, I don’t know if I believe her.
” Meeting Lena last week was pure chance.
I was in Portland, meeting a courtier. The moment I walked into the lobby after dinner, I sensed her presence—powerful and untamed.
She drew me in completely. “It’s not like her gifts would be easy to conceal, from others or herself.
My guess is she knows but is so used to hiding them it’s second nature to lie.
” I don’t blame her after twenty-two years on the run.
I feel for her struggle, but I don’t trust her.
“She’s not what I imagined,” I muse. The rumored daughter of Adrik Solis isn’t someone I ever thought I’d offer an olive branch to.
Nevertheless, after years of near misses by collection teams, the only magica skilled enough to bring Vladlena in is Teariki.
I rode along because the next three years hinge on our ability to uncover her secrets and predict her behavior.
Things are not off to a great start. While she will be coming with us one way or another, I’d rather at least give her the illusion of choice.
Stars knows it’s likely the last time she’ll ever have the perception of one.
“She sure as Suns isn’t,” Ariki confirms. “Bit of a spitfire, that one.” He grins. Even though I agree with him, I roll my eyes. He loves a challenge. It’s what makes him excellent at this occupation.
Indeed, she has a clever wit and smart mouth.
Of course, there are her other admirable qualities.
Her fine physical attributes are obvious to anyone with a pulse.
Lovely legs and luscious curves. Creamy skin that’s just begging to be tactilely compared to silk sheets.
Bordeaux-colored hair long enough to wrap around my fist—twice.
And then, there are also her more cerebral features hidden in those bright, knowing eyes filled with challenges and secrets.
It’s those qualities we need to be wary of.
“Did you get a read on her?” I probe. “I can’t sense what insignis her mother might be from. I’d hoped to get a better assessment with a longer conversation, but her aura is…complicated.” I spent the majority of our interaction last week trying to uncover exactly who and what she is.
Teariki runs his hands through his hair.
It seems he’s been thinking about this too.
“I was down in that lounge for at least three hours. But her scent isn’t like anything I’ve ever encountered before.
She’s definitely seraphim but also something else.
Maybe valkyrie or angel?” His brow pulls together.
“Usually, in a crowd, scents muddle together. Yet I knew when she walked into the lobby, before I could even see her. Her scent was immediately recognizable, even though I had never been near her before.”
Between the two of us, we are pretty damn good at determining magica kingdom and insignis. If we’re both questioning things, she’s even more of a complication than I’d anticipated.
“Time to do a little recon?” I stand, buttoning my suit jacket. “You can finally instruct me on all your techniques and the ins and outs of a stakeout.”
Ariki beams with excitement. “You’re gonna let me show you all my techniques and the ins and outs?” He wiggles his eyebrows, face lighting up with the most mischievous smirk.
I lean into him so I’m only inches from his mouth and, in a deep voice, remark, “Oh yeah, big boy, all night long.”
His eyes go wide, and his jaw drops just slightly.
“But only in your dreams.” I punch his shoulder hard before walking past him and into the entryway.
“Don’t tease me like that!” he shouts, following after me. “It’s not fair!”
We’re parked in our rental SUV in the alley across from the hotel. It’s dark and raining, but with his shifter abilities, Ariki has a clear view of the employee exit; he’ll be able to see when Vladlena leaves. We both sensed that she was inside in some back room as we left through the lobby.
Ariki taps lightly on the steering wheel along with the music.
I used to find his fidgeting irritating.
He was such a hyperactive kid, yet as he grew, he channeled that energy into studying and training, excelling in academics, combat, and tracking.
Soon, he was outperforming even the realm’s most disciplined soldiers.
He’s suited to this work; unfortunately, this is going to be his last collection, as his Challenge Epoch starts in two months and he’ll get a somewhat unwanted promotion.
He once told me and the others that he felt his talents were wasted on his future position.
Nik, Cal, Boden, and I might be the only ones who know the real Ariki.
He mostly keeps such feelings close to the vest. Then again, I suppose we’re all great at playing reserved.
It’s almost a requirement of our positions to be stoic, restrained…
controlled. Indeed, it is a testament to the puzzle that is Vladlena Solis that he hasn’t repressed his movements and is still thumbing the wheel.
“There she is.” Teariki juts his chin in the direction of the exit, just as the subject of our stakeout scampers through the rain and climbs into a beat-up Honda Civic.
Ariki pulls out of the alley slowly. Keeping a safe distance, we follow the beater that doesn’t look sturdy enough to sit unoccupied in a driveway, let alone safe enough to transport two people through city streets.
Quickly, our surroundings transform from the polished well-lit city center of restaurants and art galleries to the darker, quieter unkempt streets of a warehouse district. There’s less traffic out here, and it’s rapidly becoming more difficult to maintain an inconspicuous distance.
“What reason would they have for coming out this way?” I muse, noticing their car turning down an empty street and picking up speed.
“Shit, he just ran the light!” Ariki shouts. “Hold on.” Teariki grits his teeth as he swerves around the vehicle in front of us, pulls into the clearway, and flies through the intersection, narrowly missing another car.
We’re directly behind Vladlena now. “What in the Stars is going on in there?” I squint, trying to see into the interior of the car. I can just barely make out her silhouette, illuminated by the reflections of the streetlights on the wet pavement. It appears she’s…squirming?
“Ha! I think she’s trying to hit him!” Ariki laughs just as the Honda swerves into the left lane and readjusts, barely missing an oncoming semi. “Good girl, knock him out, give him hell.”
I glance at him out of the corner of my eye.
They speed through another yellow light, and we follow right on their trail.
The driver, preoccupied with what’s going on in their car, doesn’t seem to notice us tailing them.
He swerves again, tossing something out the window, and then overcorrects, veering into the clearway, and raises something to Vladlena’s face.
“Fuck, he has a gun! Hold on,” Ariki growls.
Well, Miss Solis, you are indeed trouble.
Teariki pushes on the gas, gliding us through a gap in oncoming traffic and swerving our SUV back into the right lane.
After cutting off the Honda, he slams on the brakes.
Their car knocks into our bumper, slides back a few feet, and screeches to a halt as its front passenger tire rides up onto the curb with a wailing metallic squeal.
With a pop, the driver’s airbag deploys.
In a matter of seconds, we exit our vehicle before the driver has time to recover. Through the smoggy windshield, I meet Vladlena’s hazel eyes, and they flash with recognition.
“What the actual fuck!” the kid with the gun shouts. “Who’s that, Sunny?”
“How the hell am I supposed to know?” she yells back. “They’re probably pissed you hit their fancy car.”
“I didn’t hit their car! They cut me off!” he says between gritted teeth. “I don’t have time for this.” He tries to restart the car, only for the engine to turn over and stall out.
Vladlena seizes the opportunity to unlock her door and scramble out onto the curb with a shoulder bag gripped in her shaking hand.
“Where are you going?” The man struggles with his tangled seatbelt, unable to stop her exit.
I reach for her as she stumbles onto the cracked and neglected sidewalk.
My arm instinctively wraps around her as I catalogue her injuries: a slight limp, a scrape on her leg, a bruise rapidly blooming across her chest from the seatbelt.
“He has a gun,” she mouths with widened eyes as I pull her to our SUV.