26. Chapter Twenty-Six - Wilder
The residual warmth from the setting sun clings to my skin as I navigate Tyche Street to Furies.
“Slow the fuck down, will you?” Gianna gripes, almost tripping in her heels.
“I told you to wear sensible shoes,” I reply, rounding another corner.
The scent of spices and simmering street food wafts through the air, tempting my growling stomach.
It’s been months since I’ve had my favorite layered rice dish, a regional specialty which can only be found in this part of Corona.
But we are already late, and we’ll have to eat when we get there.
The extra time I spent at the Bersa Power Station documenting the damage for Leigh and the Council put us behind schedule to meet Brigid, Ry, and the sisters.
The first round of images I sent through text were blurry, so I spent extra time documenting the scene again as if it were a magazine shoot.
When Janus called to press me for more updates on the power restoration, I gave a vague answer, promising more concrete information once the engineers and Michael finished their assessments.
But the truth is, I need to find Stellan Navis first.
If anyone can talk some sense into Dimitri and his former crew, it’s him.
I need to convince him that the Nebula can still fight for equal rights without resorting to sabotage and keeping the city in the dark.
I need Brigid’s help to get to Stellan tonight, so I’ll be extra agreeable and hope she introduces me.
I’m not sure why she waited so long to mention she knew him, but I had a feeling.
Brigid specifically told me not to bring Gianna.
But if I really want to end the conflict between Epsilon and Nebula, I have to start with my own friends—even if it means dealing with Brigid and Gianna’s mutual hatred.
“These are sensible shoes,” Gianna insists defiantly.
“But they are designer.”
I roll my eyes.
“What, do you want me to carry you?”
Gianna stops dead in her tracks and lifts her arms.
“If you insist.”
I shoot her a look that says, “Fuck, no.”
“Are there no cars in this city?” she huffs.
“Considering you cussed out our last taxi driver, I am not taking my chances.”
Gianna’s scowl deepens.
“Do you need to eat or something? Or are you upset about how things went down at the plant? You never told me what happened. Did you manage to get them to?—”
I spin around to face her, my patience a thinning rope.
“Look, things went a little sideways, but everything will be sunshine and rainbows once Brigid introduces me to Stellan. We just need to ensure tonight goes smoothly.”
Gianna inhales sharply.
“Stellan and Brigid are connected? On second thought, maybe Idon’t want to meet this Stellan guy after all. I’ll learn about my father another way.”
I can’t help but laugh.
“Come on, be nice. Brigid is trying to help.”
“Help?” Gianna scoffs.
“Yeah, help herself back into your pants.”
My insides rebel against being with Brigid when I have Leigh.
“It’s not like that. She’s just being a good friend.” Does she seriously think I’d rekindle anything with Brigid?
Gianna rolls her eyes, clearly unconvinced.
“Right, because ‘good friends’ always go out of their way to introduce you to their journalist buddies while giving you bedroom eyes.”
I sigh.
“You’re impossible, you know that?”
“No, I’m just looking out for you,” Gianna retorts.
“Brigid has an agenda.”
I pause.
I’m not na?ve; I know what type of person Brigid can be when she wants something.
While I was documenting the scene at the power station, she was busy texting.
I bet she didn’t waste a second informing the Erinye sisters and Ry about my run-in with Dimitri and Michael.
Knowing her, she spared no juicy detail, probably painting me as the Council’s errand boy and making it her mission to “uncorrupt” me, ensuring our friends stay firmly in her camp.
But Brigid was there for me after Isolde cheated on me, and I thought Desi died.
Even though we’re not on the same page right now, I need her to trust that I’m here to help, not to make her life worse by pushing some Epsilon agenda.
“Come on, we are almost there,” I say.
“I know a shortcut up ahead.”
We enter an alley lined with ornate metal lanterns, their geometric cutouts promising intricate shadow-plays when lit.
Now, powerless and dark, they offer only emptiness, punctuated by the fleeting shadows of stray cats darting between our feet.
I slow down.
The hairs on my neck prickle.
“So,” Gianna muses, oblivious to my unease, “I have this idea of going to the library tomorrow to research my birth father. I want to see if there are any articles about him or his family. Do you think I’m chasing ghosts?”
“That’s nice,” I reply.
A glance around the alley reveals nothing amiss, but an unsettling stillness hangs in the air.
Is it just in my head?
“Yeah, and then I’m going to strip naked in the square and do an interpretive dance.”
“Cool.” I pause.
“Wait, what ?” I rotate, and Gianna’s eyes narrow—before flying wide at something over my shoulder.
A cold, sharp object presses against my throat.
Great.
Fucking perfect.
“Move, and you’ll bleed out right here on the pavement,” a gruff voice threatens.
The voice is familiar, but I can’t pinpoint it.
“Um, W-Wilder,” Gianna whimpers.
Two figures emerge from the darkness behind her.
Both men wear scarves around their faces.
One drags a menacing metal chain across the pavement with an ominous scrape.
The other brandishes a sharp knife, its blade glinting in the dim moonlight.
I want to shout for Gianna to run, but I know it’s futile.
Those impractical heels would never carry her far.
“If it is money you’re after, we don’t have any,” I tell them.
The two men close in, barking at Gianna, who shrieks in response.
One even dares to sniff her hair.
Sparks of electricity flicker at her fingertips.
I shake my head, silently pleading with her not to escalate things.
A sting lances up my throat, and I realize I’ve accidentally pressed the knife at my throat too hard, breaking the skin.
Warm blood trickles down my neck.
I frown deeper.
The stain will be a bitch to get out of my shirt.
“Keep your money. We want you to deliver a message,” the man behind me says.
His voice clicks in my memory.
“Dimitri?”
The former power plant manager stiffens behind me.
“Tell your queen that if she doesn’t give Stellan what he wants, then the next time we see each other, you won’t be lucky enough to leave without a scratch.”
I want to point out that I am already bleeding, but semantics.
“What exactly do you want me to say to her? The queen doesn’t respond well to threats.”
“Tell her that Aurora no longer bends to her will,” one of the masked men adds as he strokes Gianna’s head.
Her lip recoils.
I exhale slowly.
Now that I recognize Dimitri, the situation is less dire.
He’s angry, but I doubt he has the balls to harm a Blade irreparably.
However, the presence of weapons and magic among the group still makes me uneasy.
If I mishandle this, Gianna could get hurt.
“What does your wife think about you knifing people in the dark like some sort of common criminal, Dimitri?” If I can keep him talking, I can distract him enough to free myself, grab Gianna, and get the fuck out of here.
“Shut up! Don’t bring my wife into this!”
“But your actions reflect on her.”
The knife digs deeper into my skin.
I swallow a sigh.
He is pigheaded.
“Do you agree to our terms or not?” Dimitri growls.
“What happens to us if I refuse?” I ask, my gaze fixed on Gianna as a tremor runs through her body.
“Then we will send one or both of you back to Borealis in a body bag.”
I laugh, and Dimitri tenses.
“You’d kill us? Certainly, Stellan is against cold-blooded murder.”
Dimitri laughs.
“You have no idea what Stellan wants.”
It’s clear they’ve taken Stellan’s words and twisted them to justify violence.
It’s what I feared.
“I plan to ask him that when I speak to him,” I say.
The man petting Gi’s hair shakes his head.
“Stellan would never talk to you, traitor.”
“Why? I am a Nebula, the same as you. She is, too.”
My Nebula mark is on display, as is Gianna’s.
What more do they want?
The two men holding Gianna eye her as if truly looking at her for the first time.
One of them tilts her chin with the tip of their knife.
“Say, don’t I know you?”
“No,” she says, averting her gaze.
“Yes, I do. You are Elio’s daughter.”
The other man whistles.
Gianna struggles harder against her captors, but they tighten their hold.
“Don’t be rude. We are just being friendly with you, little Epsilon princess.”
“Leave her alone.” I jerk toward Gi, but a second blade tip is at my side then.
“New bargain,” Dimitri says with glee.
“You let us take the girl, and we will take you to Stellan right now. Prove to us that you are one of us.”
My blood runs cold.
“W-what?” Gianna screeches.
“What will you do with her?” I ask to stall.
I’ll fight tooth and nail before letting them take her, but I need to find a way out of Dimitri’s grasp without Gianna ending up disemboweled.
“Use her to send a message to all Epsilon that a new age has come,” Dimitri says, and I snort, failing to cover up my laugh.
He sounds like a cartoon villain.
“You don’t believe me?”
One of Dimitri’s accomplices pulls a gun.
My lungs seize.
A Solar Witch, not a Cosmic one.
Shit .
Cosmic Witches don’t have magic to power firearms, making them less lethal in hand-to-hand combat.
Why did I leave my own gun at home?
The gun’s barrel digs into Gianna’s temple.
She cries out.
The heat of my anger rises to my palms.
“Let her go!”
Dimitri snorts and presses his knife deeper into my trachea.
“If you even think of calling your element, my friend’s bullet gets buried in that girl’s brain. Got it?”
I clench my fist, suffocating my flames.
“I’m going to enjoy making you suffer.”
“She’ll be dead before that happens,” Dimitri says.
“What is she to you, anyway? She’s Elio’s daughter. Her dad has ruined so many Nebula lives.”
Bile rises in my throat.
Revenge may be their thirst, but Gianna’s blood won’t wash away what Elio did.
“Please,” Gianna gasps out.
“Let me go. Please . Elio isn’t my father.”
I have to get her out of this.
“You’re right,” I lie, the hard words sharp in my own throat.
“She means nothing to me.” Gianna’s breath hitches.
“Take her. Do whatever you want with her. But take me to Stellan.” When Dimitri doesn’t move, I snarl, “We have a deal, don’t we?”
“If there’s any funny business, shoot her,” Dimitri tells his friend.
As Dimitri’s grip on the knives loosens, I seize the opportunity.
Before he can blink, I’ve grabbed his wrists and twisted them behind his back.
I shove him forward, putting his body in front of mine as a shield.
As Dimitri struggles against my hold, the masked man’s finger twitches on the trigger at Gianna’s brow.
“What are you waiting for?” Dimitri shouts.
“Shoot her!”
I press my knives harder into Dimitri’s side.
“If you even think about pulling that trigger,” I warn the other man in a low growl, “I’ll bury these knives so deep Dimitri will need surgery to dig them out. And trust me, his death will be on your hands. The next sunrise you see will be through the bars of a cell.”
The gunman exchanges a nervous glance with his chain-wielding companion.
Their bravado cracks.
They know they’re outmatched, and that Dimitri’s death will be laid at their feet.
Slowly, almost reluctantly, the gunman lowers his weapon.
I don’t loosen my hold on Dimitri.
“Give her space.”
The masked men back away from Gianna.
“Gi, walk toward me slowly,” I say without taking my eyes off the masked man’s gun.
Tears stream down Gianna’s face as she shuffles unsteadily toward me.
Once she’s securely at my back, I make my move.
I slam the butt of one knife into Dimitri’s temple, knocking him unconscious—my element flares.
Flames lick at my fingertips, reflected in the wide eyes of the remaining criminals.
They turn and run.
I’m about to unleash the full force of my fire when a stream of water whistles past me.
I spin and find four figures racing toward us from the far end of the alley.
A fierce surge of relief floods me.
They’re here.
With a flick of Alec’s wrist, one of the masked men is encased in ice, frozen mid-scream.
The other man is quicker.
He bolts down a side street, firing a shot back.
We all duck for cover, and by the time I straighten, he’s gone.
Brigid rushes to my side to help me up.
Meg and the fourth person—my old friend Ry Nieman—hurry after the gunman.
“You’re hurt,” Brigid says, her voice as chilling as death.
I shake out of her hold.
“I’m fine.” My pride stings more than my wound.
“Doesn’t look deep.” Her fingers ghost over my throat.
“It isn’t.”
“What do you want to do with him?” Alec nods toward the unconscious Dimitri.
I pull my phone from my pocket.
“I’m phoning in the attack.”
Brigid grabs my wrist.
“What will you say?”
I gape at her.
“The truth? He attacked us. They threatened Gianna.”
Brigid’s grip tightens.
“If you send Dimitri to prison, you make an enemy of him and likely dozens of other Nebula who are his friends. Dimitri is just angry he got fired; he wouldn’t have hurt her.” She glares at Gianna.
“If you had listened to me and left her at home, none of this would have happened.”
“Dimitri wanted to hurt Gianna as a message to the Epsilon, and you want me to look the other way?”
“Gianna may be a Nebula, but she didn’t grow up as one,” Brigid sneers.
I stumble back.
Where does this viciousness come from?
I don’t recognize her anymore.
“So that makes what happened to her tonight okay?”
“Of course not,” Alec chimes in, always the voice of reason.
“None of this is okay.”
“Goo—”
“But if you turn these people in, it could be seen as siding with the Epsilon,” Brigid points out.
“Stellan won’t like it. He may not want to meet you.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I say, my voice rising with each word.
“This isn’t about choosing sides. It’s about distinguishing right from wrong.” If Stellan can’t see that, he is more detrimental to society than I thought.
“We can’t just attack people because they grew up differently than we did.”
“You’re different,” Brigid mutters.
I bite back the childish retort that she’s the one who’s different.
Even back then, I would have called this in.
Ry and Meg return.
“Did you catch him?” Gianna asks, her voice thick with tears.
Meg shakes her head, and fresh tears spill down Gianna’s cheeks.
Alec wraps her arms around her.
“I am so sorry they scared you.”
Ry pulls me into a tight hug.
“Still getting into trouble without me, I see.” His chuckle is dark, but it draws a half-smile from me.
Despite being several inches shorter than me, Ry’s built like a tank, all muscle and brawn beneath his curly blond hair and deceptively youthful face.
I sag against him as I hug him back.
At leastsomeonein this city is glad to see me.
No one can replace Jaxson, but during my time here, Ry and I became as close as brothers.
I missed him fiercely.
Ry steps back, and Gianna rushes into my arms.
For a moment, I’m frozen, as still as the ice encasing Dimitri’s accomplice, but then she whispers, “Thank you,” and I thaw instantly.
I hold her close.
She’s Leigh’s best friend.
If anything had happened to her, Leigh might never have forgiven me.
I might never have forgiven myself.
“What happens now?” Gianna asks, pulling back to glare down at Dimitri.
“How about we walk you back to the garrison while Wilder and Ry deal with him?” Meg proposes.
Behind her, Brigid quietly seethes.
Gianna searches my eyes.
I nod.
She’ll be safe with them.
After they leave, I call Commander Eddo to report the attack; Brigid be damned.
Ry sticks with me, and when the call is over, we lean against the caged front of a spice shop, awaiting the familiar siren of approaching officers.
Ry breaks the silence first.
“Is there something going on between you and the Epsilon girl?”
I let out a heavy sigh.
“Gianna is a Nebula.”
Ry cracks a grin.
“I don’t care what she is, as long as she’s single.”
“She is. I’m with Leigh.”
“That’s right,” he says.
“Does that mean I have to call you Prince Wilder?”
I laugh.
“Call me prince, and you’ll wish you were in Dimitri’s place.”
Ry’s smile dims a bit.
“Despite what Brigid thinks, I’m glad you’re back. So is she. She just doesn’t know how to express her feelings. At least not verbally. She thought you’d return, and the two of you would pick up where you left off. She’s not used to being told no.”
I shift my weight.
Now she isn’t going to introduce me to Stellan.
She’ll purposely keep us apart.
That’s Brigid all over—hot one minute, an arctic blast the next.
“Do you know what her deal is with Stellan Navis? Are she and Eddo loyal to his cause over the Council?” I ask Ry.
“Stellan is friends with all the Nebula in this city. But if you really want to know what all the fuss is about, see for yourself at his next rally.”
I push off the wall.
He’s making a public appearance?
“When is it?”
My friend shrugs.
“He’s speaking at Trinity Square in two days. It’s not a secret.”
I harden my stare on the dusty pavement.
Brigid made it sound like getting in touch with Stellan would be harder than getting into Little Death.
“I’m going,” Ry says.
“You should come, too. Bring Gianna.”
“If you and Meg fight over her,” I warn, “don’t come whining to me when Meg ultimately kicks your teeth in.”
Ry straightens, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“Please, there’s no competition.”
The wail of approaching sirens grows louder, and I draw a deep breath, steeling myself for the fallout.
Eddo won’t be happy, and neither will Michael Bersa when he learns he’ll need to replace his plant manager on short notice.
That apology he wants won’t happen anytime soon.