Chapter 13 #2
Canon fiddled with his cufflinks—silver with sapphires to match his shirt.
His father’s cuffs had been cheap, white polyester to match his cheap, mid-level desk job, with buttons instead of cufflinks.
At the funeral, Canon had reached in the open casket to tug at the threads unraveling along the buttonholes.
If there had been anything extraordinary about his father, no one had ever seen it, including Canon.
Canon told the truth when he told Cadenza he didn’t want to be anonymous, but he wanted to win on his own.
“I’m grateful for the sight I have, but I’m not sure he could give me anything else I need.”
“You owe it to the people you want to serve to be the best version of yourself, and I’ve known this man much longer than you have, Canon. He guards great power. Trust me.” Vasilios skewered Canon with his eyes. “He’s holding out on you.”
Canon recoiled. Vasilios was always so even keeled, had always supported Canon’s choices.
This sudden insistence was unlike him. Tentatively, Canon reached out with his gift, but found only concern for him, and his future.
The car parked at the side entrance of the hotel where the press conference was scheduled, and Canon shook himself.
Game time. Get your head in gear.
He climbed out of the car and adjusted his suit jacket. Vasilios handed him a stack of index cards with talking points and laid a hand on his shoulder.
“Your father worked for me for years, Canon. I offered him many chances to propel himself forward, but he was too afraid to step out of his comfort zone. James Richards wore out his life as a cog in someone else’s machine.
I chose you because you’re different than your father.
” He opened the door, and the bustle of the press conference rushed over them.
“The world is a chaotic place. Noisy. Anxious. We need a leader that can quiet the noise, calm the chaos. I chose you because I believe, with my guidance, you can be that leader. People will bless your name once they can hear themselves think again.” He let the door swing shut, cutting off the noise. “You meet with him in a few days, yes?”
Canon nodded.
“Bargain with him.”
Canon tried to object again, but Vasilios gripped his shoulders and cut him off. “Be the cog or be the hand that turns the wheel.”
Cadenza bounced on the balls of her feet, waiting for night to take over the sky. She’d left a note in the garage for Taran to meet her in their picnic spot. He should wake soon.
Stars appeared overhead, chanting an evening song.
The trees stretched out a melody. A bird fluttered in the branches, and Cadenza made out the silhouette of an owl.
She triple checked the drum where she’d hidden it under a blanket at the foot of an oak and shook the jitters out of her fingertips.
Nerves jumped in her stomach and the ground thrummed in response.
“Behave!” she scolded the earth and tightened her grip on the music. “I’m edgy enough as it is.”
She looked to the southern edge of the estate, thinking of the tree she’d felled the night before. “Not crazy, not crazy, not crazy.”
Bodhran song tickled her shoulders, and she spun towards the head of the field. Not crazy. And I know what I want.
Taran picked his way through the knee-high grass and sticker bushes, hands in his pockets, shoulders relaxed forward. Bass notes rolled out from him, the tide coming in. Cadenza latched onto his heartbeat to calm the nerves churning in her gut.
He stopped a few feet away, face cautious. “Hi.”
“Hey.” She smiled, trying to make it a happy-to-see-you smile rather than a your-life-is-freaky-and-I-want-nothing-to-do-with-you smile. He stepped closer but waited for her to speak first.
She shuffled her feet, at a loss for how to say what she wanted to say now that he stood in front of her.
Hi there, Mr. Cursed Ferrari-wolf-shifter-immortal-not-quite-human-guy, I think I’m in love with you. Yeah. Stupid words.
She wished she could sing a melody and have him understand what she meant. As if in answer to her wish, the earthsong leaped into her chest. The impulse to use it flooded her throat, pried open her mouth. She fisted her hands and tamped it down.
“I brought you something. I was downtown and I saw it and I—I just can’t imagine being trapped this long, and I thought you might like it.” She stumbled over the words. “I mean, you can’t go somewhere else. So I wanted to bring a piece of Somewhere Else to you.”
Taran tilted his head, curious.
She pointed at the blanket. “Go ahead.”
He pulled off the cover and laughed. “Oh, that’s lovely, that is.” His face lit up, the starlight sparkling in his eyes. He knelt and tapped his fingers on the head. “I haven’t had a new drum in ages.”
She slipped the sticks from the case and pressed them into his hands. Taran tapped out a rhythm, the notes melding with his own song. Cadenza shivered.
“If you could go anywhere right now, where would you go?” he asked their favorite question. “What would you see?”
His gold eyes ranged over her face, and Cadenza drank them in, wishing she knew what he was thinking.
She planned to lay out her feelings tonight, to tell him what she wanted, but she didn’t know what he wanted.
Her stomach flipped, like she was about to jump off a bridge, unsure if anyone would catch her.
“Europe.” Her answer came almost out of habit.
“Italy. And there are so many things I’d see.
Operas, museums. And Toscana—the hills. My father talked of them all the time, so I’d rent a car and just drive through the hills.
I’d go see where my parents met. I’d visit my sisters.
” She plucked at the dry grass, ripping strands out of the earth.
“And my mother, I’d see my mother. Maybe she’d even be glad to see me, although I doubt it.
” She laughed to make it a joke. “Not unless I already had a contract signed.”
“Not the happy-to-see-you type, I take it?”
“Oh, sure, if you’ve done something to add to her prestige. She only had my sisters come to her in Italy when they started to gain recognition.” Come to think of it, she wasn’t sure why her mother was giving her a chance now.
“Far be it from me to criticize an elder,” Taran said. “But if she’s not already proud of you, then she doesn’t deserve a visit. No going to see her.” He waved away the imaginary visit. “Go to a gelateria instead, that’d be more fun.”
Cadenza scoffed. “It’d definitely be sweeter. And you can criticize her all you want, you’re way older than she is.” She bumped his shoulder with hers, teasing.
He barked a laugh. “I suppose I can’t argue with that.”
“What about you?” she asked. “If you could leave right now—no curse to worry about—where would you go? What would you see?”
He launched a pebble across the clearing. “Honestly?”
“Yes, honestly. After all this time in one spot, where would you go? Back to Scotland to see home? Somewhere you’ve never been?”
Taran shook his head. “I don’t think it matters where I’d go.”
“Why? Just dream for a minute. Pretend it’s possible to break the curse.” Show me some faith that it can be done, because I want to do it and I want to take you to these places.
He leveled his gaze at her, serious for the moment.
“Dreaming is dangerous. Everyone has to wake eventually. But I wasn’t talking about the curse.
” He reached for her face, stroked a thumb down her cheekbone, traced her lower lip.
His drum song sped around her. The timpani ocean churned, and she clung to her anchor as Taran leaned closer.
He brushed his lips over her eyelids, bit at her jaw. Her breath splintered.
“It wouldn’t matter where I went, Cadenza.” He took her face in both hands and held her eyes with his. “Because wherever I am, all I will see is you.”