Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Aster
The bulletproof limo pulls up in front of the Gem and Mineral Museum.
Aiden had a designer send a dress, shoes, and bag up to my tower for the trip, along with a long white rabbit fur coat.
While Oma had insisted on our living in austerity to keep our gifts pure, Aiden sees me as a representative of the pack.
Today, I represent him and his interests. I have to look good.
I braided my hair into a wreath around my head, and teardrop moonstones dangle from my earlobes.
They were a gift from Catherine Adalwulf when I turned sixteen.
She’s the only person who ever remembered my birthday.
I regret not being able to help her in the terrible position she was in.
Her mate was a Blackthroat. She gave birth to Blackthroat pups and was hardly allowed to see them.
And then Oma and Odin made her the instrument of her mate’s death. Her own pups’ father.
I can’t imagine anything worse than that fate.
I haven’t seen her since she defended her son’s mate from Odin’s assassins. She’s exiled now–a fate I’m sure she would’ve chosen for herself from the beginning.
Now that I’m Seeress, I hoped to steer the pack away from their feud with the Blackthroats. Away from the poison and hate and focus on tearing the Blackthroat pack down instead of building our pack up. Both sides have lost enough.
Of course, I haven’t voiced that opinion. I wouldn’t dare. But I plan to give them only the guidance that leads in that direction.
I plan to withhold any prophecies that support this war. It’s all I can do to steer this pack towards a better path.
But I failed to earn their satisfaction with my visions, and now I’ll be bound to the alpha.
I wonder if it will change me.
Did Oma become the hate-filled instrument of destruction through Odin’s dark power, or did her black heart infect him?
I wrinkle my nose. The air in the limo is tainted, probably from Vera’s aura.
She accompanied me to the city, too, and was dropped off at her Manhattan apartment.
We rode the whole way here with her staring at me, like she was watching me for the Warden.
I ignored her. It was rude, but when I thought about being polite, my intuition whispered Rat, and I kept my mouth shut.
She’s gone now, but the oily taste of her aura still lingers.
Blech.
I wait for the driver to open my door and offer me a hand before I step out onto the sidewalk.
I wobble a bit in the heels–I’m usually in bare feet at the keep.
My trips to Manhattan are infrequent. From the time they moved me from the Moonborn lair to the Adalwulf’s Adirondack mansion to study with Oma, I’ve been to the city only a half-dozen times.
Today, I will get to go without Aiden or Oma breathing down my neck. Oh, I will certainly still be heavily guarded, but I’ll be my own woman. I’m the pack Seeress. The men will have to respect me and my wishes.
I resist the urge to look around and gawk at all the noise and activity around us. Instead, I hold up my head, making my neck long and regal as I click up the marble steps to the glass doors, following Otto, my handler, in.
“Ms. Adalwulf is here for the private viewing of the Tiara of Ix-Chel,” Otto tells the museum attendant.
“Ah, yes. I’ll let the director know. If you could just pass through security here.” She waves us toward the metal detectors.
Aiden’s security team looks like any human security team, except they don’t need to carry weapons. They are weapons. He chooses the largest and most ferocious young males the pack produces, and they all stand over six feet tall. They will shift and kill in an instant if Otto gives them the signal.
I send my purse through on the conveyor belt and walk through the metal detector, sandwiched between three of my six bodyguards. The remaining three follow me.
“Have a seat on the bench, right there,” the young woman behind the counter tells us. “Director Houserman will be right with you.”
I take a seat and look around. Several groups of young elementary school children move through the exhibits in twittering clumps.
A bunch of high school students jostle and tease each other.
Adult museum-goers meander through the exhibits, stopping to peer into the glass cases containing specimens of crystals and gemstones.
The energy of all the crystals and minerals in the building emits a frequency that makes my head feel like it’s about to explode.
Pressure grows behind my eyes. I hope the energy doesn’t bring on a vision.
A short, stout man wearing eyeglasses and dressed in a sweater vest and tie emerges from an office behind the desk. “Ms. Adalwulf?”
Otto steps forward like he’s going to take charge of the conversation, but I ignore him, standing to offer my hand. “Yes.” I am the Adalwulf Seeress, advisor to the alpha. I’m no longer just the acolyte they keep locked in a tower.
I sense Otto’s surprise. For years, I’ve played ghost, trying to remain invisible. Now I’m pulling out alpha she-wolf energy. Somehow, the growing pain around my eye sockets cuts out the noise of second-guessing myself.
The director also ignores Otto.
Otto follows my lead. He won’t slight me in front of the director–not when I’ve been sent here as the emissary of the Adalwulf family. Appearances are everything to Aiden, and diminishing his authority as bestowed through me in this situation would infuriate him.
Still, I do not doubt that the moment we’re out of this situation, Otto will assume an alpha role over me again.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I understand Mr. Adalwulf has arranged with the owner of the Tiara of Ix-Chel for you to have a private viewing while it’s on loan here.
I do hope if you decide to purchase it, you’ll allow us to remain the custodian through this season, so it can be enjoyed by New York? ”
Otto stiffens, about to take charge again. Oma taught me never to stammer an answer out when surprised by a question. I use her technique of turning the focus back on him and repeating his words. “You’d like the moonstone to remain here at the museum for the remainder of the season.”
I sense Otto settle back, clasping his hands in front of him, bodyguard style. He’s content to let me handle the business negotiations, at least for the moment.
The director colors a bit. Now he’s the one stammering.
“Well, yes, we only just received it this week, and we’ve been advertising its arrival for months.
It would be a terrible shame to let down all the people of New York who were so excited to see the precious artifact that only recently resurfaced in the world. ”
I understand his desire to keep the tiara on display as an important historical piece. He doesn’t understand that it probably also contains great power.
I keep my tone regal. “I see. Well, I’m sure the seller can compensate you for your sunk advertising costs. But we’re getting ahead of ourselves. I’m not even sure yet whether we’re interested. May I inspect it?”
“Yes, yes of course. Right this way.” Dr. Houserman extends an arm to usher me into the large open atrium of the museum.
I follow, pretending the excruciating pain building behind my left eye isn’t there. The pressure in my head is growing almost too fast for me to manage. Yellow and red horizontal lines squiggle in front of my vision as I walk, making every step in the Louboutin heels feel precarious.
“We’ll take the private elevator.” Dr. Houserman uses a keycard to open the doors to a small elevator marked “Employees Only.” I step in first, followed by Otto, who holds the door for Dr. Houserman. It’s so tiny, there isn’t room for the bodyguards.
“What floor?” Otto asks in a brisk, military clip.
“Ninth.” Dr. Houserman steps into the elevator and pushes the button.
Otto tips his head toward the stairs, and his men instantly pivot and charge up them.
The elevator doors close, insulating me a bit from the energy of all the crystals. I take a breath, my vision clearing.
Dr. Houserman gives us each a nervous glance. “They won’t be allowed in the viewing room.”
He’s worried we’re here to steal the tiara.
I have to play this down, or he won’t let me in at all, and Aiden will have a fit. “Not a problem,” I say smoothly. “The guards are out of an abundance of caution. We've had some death threats to the family recently, so my cousin’s extremely protective of me.”
“Your cousin?”
“Aiden.”
“Oh, I thought he was your husband.”
“No, no. I’m just the expert on gemstones.”
“I see.” His expression says he clearly does not see but is too polite to ask more. The elevator doors open. “After you, Ms. Adalwulf.” He extends a hand again.
Three security guards wait for us at the entryway to the exhibit room. Dr. Houserman murmurs something to one of the security guards, and he nods, pulling a velvet cord across the entryway to cordon it off from other visitors.
My bodyguards arrive on our floor in a stampede, their footfalls ringing out against the marble steps. I hold up a hand to halt them. “Wait here.”
They look past me to Otto who nods.
“You, as well,” Dr. Houserman tells him. “Only one person may approach at a time.”
Otto’s jaw clenches, but he takes a position outside the room.
He takes me to a glass display case positioned in front of a giant window. I imagine on a sunnier day, the natural light would enhance the glow of the red moonstone.
I suck in my breath. The pressure in my head grows stronger as we approach. I hear the whispers of the Grandmothers murmuring to me.
The tiara is cast in gold, a delicate weaving of slender arcing lines.
In the center, a red-hued moonstone dangles, meant to enhance the wearer’s third eye.
The moonstone’s properties are strong. I don’t even need to touch it to know.
If this headdress was used in Mayan ceremonies, it would take on additional power through the belief of the people. What we honor as sacred becomes sacred.
The two security guards flank me.
Otto folds his arms over his chest from behind the velvet cord.
A muscle starts to tremble in my cheek. The intensity is getting to be too much for me. The jumbled noise of the Grandmothers is a cacophony in my ears.
“I can already see this is legitimate,” I murmur. I need to get out of here before I have a seizure. The Sight is taking over, and I’m losing my grasp on control.
The seconds feel like hours as I watch Dr. Houserman unlock the case and open it.
I don’t need to touch the tiara.
I don’t even want to. The power is already too much for me to hold. My stomach lurches like it wants to empty. I sway on my feet.
I force myself to go through the motions. “May I?” My voice sounds far away. I reach for the tiara.
It scalds me. I bring my fingertip to touch the moonstone. Lightning strikes me right between the eyes.
My third eye explodes. Or at least that’s how it feels.
I need to get out of here.
“I’m satisfied,” I say, handing it back. “And if you’ll excuse me, I’m…” I cover my mouth as my stomach heaves.
The director snatches the tiara back. I’m sure this seems like a heist with the way my fingers were shaking. He probably thinks I’m trying to create a distraction to steal the tiara or swap it with a fake.
I run for the door. “It’s real,” I say to Otto as I rush past him. He reaches for my elbow, but I slip out of his grasp, running blindly. “I need a bathroom,” I say.
I can’t see at all–patterns of light and colors collide in front of my eyes. Dimly, I hear the sound of an elevator nearby. Remembering that it helped dampen the gem frequencies, I dive in, bumping into people on the way.
My knees hit the floor, and blackness overtakes me.
Noah
Fate led her right to me.
I catch the luminescent blonde in my arms as she falls and sit on the floor of the elevator to drag her back against me, her ass onto my lap. The magnolia-peach scent of her skin enters my nostrils and charges up my wolf. My pants tighten at the crotch.
Everything happened so easily. I caught sight of Aster when she arrived at the museum under heavy guard.
I followed them up the stairs and lurked around the elevator, waiting and watching.
I don’t know why my dreams showed me where Aster would be today, but I have to believe it’s to move me on the path to find the Moonborn.
When I saw the Adalwulf female rush out, covering her mouth like she had to throw up, I slipped into the elevator just before she did and hit the close-door button before her retinue arrived. Dropping a tracker into her tiny purse was child’s play.
But now Aster is having some kind of seizure.
Her body shakes and trembles. Her eyes are open, but unseeing, the way they were at first in my dream this morning.
She’s completely vulnerable. Alone in an elevator with the enemy.
I could kill the Adalwulf seeress right here, right now, with one easy snap of her neck.
Weaken their pack by removing their ability to see into the future. It’s tempting.
But I need to know why Fate led me to her.
“Aster.” I say her name out loud, wrapping both my arms around her to hold her up.
Aster. This time I try it in my head.
Still no response. I suspect this is not a medical concern. Aster is a seeress. Perhaps she’s having a vision.
According to my grandmother, the “moonborn” are created through the ritualistic interbreeding of witches with wolves during a powerful planetary influence like an eclipse.
There’s dark magic involved. The seeress is created through some kind of power bond with the alpha.
It gives the Adalwulfs a distinct advantage but comes with a cost–some kind of warping or twisting.
Aster doesn’t appear warped, but who knows what lies behind her luminescent exterior.
I rub her sternum to activate her calming reflex. It’s okay. I’ve got you, I tell her telepathically. I have no idea if that works in real life or only when I meet her in dreams.
Her body starts to relax, just as the elevator dings. We’re already on the first floor.
I hear the sound of pounding footfalls–her army racing down the stairs to meet her.
I scramble to my feet, lifting Aster with me. She lets out a soft moan. One of her hands covers mine as she drags in a breath through her nose. My scent won’t be on her because I covered it with a spray of men’s cologne to keep her from scenting another wolf.
I prop her against the elevator wall and step out before her men round the bend.