Chapter 17
Extra [ ek -struh ] noun
An additional, unique ability granted to each Original House, the secret of which is closely held, often not being disclosed until it either manifests, or the Talent* reaches majority.
* Talents considered throwbacks have been known to present multiple extras based on their ancestry.
– Excerpt from Glynfyls: A History
“Peacekeepers represent the pinnacle of Breaker genetic engineering, eclipsing their brethren’s abilities ten-fold. It is unfortunate that the very innovations which created these elite warriors had such dire consequences upon the females of their line.”
– L. Merkel, Head Geneticist ,
The Source
Flynn stood in his briefs beneath the peak of his attic room, a pile of ill-fitting clothes at his feet. The goddamned place felt like a shrine to who he was supposed to be. Miriam had gone through it with a fine-toothed comb. It smelled like apple cinnamon, and everything was neatened and tucked away, that stupid throw rug he habitually tripped over back at the top of the stairs. She’d put a goddamned embroidered pillow on the bed and made it up with hospital corners.
Memory overlaid the unfinished plank floor with empties and dirty laundry. The funk of spilled liquor and sweaty gym gear, bed a tangle of sheets, parts and books scattered about—He kicked the rug into the corner and swept the row of boxing trophies into the top drawer.
It. Wouldn’t. Fucking—a gold-plated pugilist snapped off, and the drawer slammed shut.
Damn it. He sighed, rubbing his cuff. The fucking thing was turning his wrist green. Why the hell was this so hard? Flynn bent to pick up the little golden man, cutoff at the knees. He could relate. Sighing, he flicked it over his shoulder to join the rug and pulled on a pair of jeans and a flannel from Kara’s bag. They were ratty and he didn’t care. Nothing he’d left here fit.
Christ, he didn’t fit.
Showered and unshaven, he made his way downstairs to the back bedroom. Kara was propped up against a bunch of frilly pillows, looking out the window at the mountains in the distance. The weak winter sunlight was beginning to fade over their distant peaks. It got dark early this time of year.
She smiled. He could tell she was exhausted, but it was heartening to see her awake.
“Can I get you anything?”
“No, just stay with me for a while?” He sat down beside her, and she snuggled against him. “Miriam told me you know.”
Flynn grinned and pressed his lips to the top of her head, his hand trailing over her abdomen. A kid. He pulled her close, allowing himself to feel the happiness bubbling up inside of him.
Her anxiety became surprise. “Really?”
He laughed. None of this was supposed to happen, not for him, but now that it had… He tipped up her chin. Even beat to shit she was so go ddamned beautiful. He didn’t fucking care if it was the bond. She was his, and she was having his kid. He felt her bewilderment and laughed again.
“Yeah, really. You gotta understand, being a throwback… I didn’t think I’d ever have kids, or find someone like you, and if I did bond, it’d be because Cal sold me off to cement some political bullshit.” He scratched his jaw, pretty sure the last part of that had still happened, but the rest made it a hell of a lot easier to swallow.
Kara pulled his arm tighter around her. “Tell me a story.”
“What? Like a fairytale?”
“I don’t care, I just want to hear your voice. I like how it rumbles.”
He blew out a big breath, stupidly pleased. Only one came to mind. “Once upon a time there was this Surge that made half the Earth go dark, and threw the world into chaos?—”
“Mmm, I know this one. When the smoke cleared there stood five lines of Talent?—”
“Six,” he corrected, kissing behind the shell of her ear. “Shades oppose Finders.”
“Shades, because you’re like ghosts?”
“Yeah, I guess. When the Corporation’s transports came, we watched and waited, but no Talent who went south ever came back. The next time they tried to harvest, Shades cloaked the other line’s halos, hiding Talents in plain sight. In exchange, they swore to keep our existence a secret. Glynfyls was founded to protect the Talents that remained free. I know it’s hard to imagine, but it’s a massive city up north.”
“This is the North,” she murmured, almost asleep.
Flynn smiled into her hair. “Not if you’re from the North.”
He held her, watching the light fade from the sky. She pulled a steady stream of talent from him. His eyes grew heavy, and he drifted…
He dreamed he crouched in a rocky grotto at the edge of a wide, still pool. The water was clearer than it had any right to be, the outcroppings of shale encompassing it delving down deep. He knew it had no bottom, just as he knew the water would be frigid before his fingers sliced through its glassy surface. Cupping his hands, he drew up a mouthful, an odd effervescence lingering on his tongue as it slid down his throat, filling him. With what he couldn’t say, but he couldn’t deny its presence.
Nor the one behind him.
He closed his eyes, not wanting even a glimpse of its reflection in the water. The air around him went flat and dead, save for the hot breath riling the small hairs at the back of his neck. Like hackles, they rose, and he found his voice.
“I know you’re there.”
‘When am I not?’
“I won’t let you hurt her.”
The voice barked out a laugh. ‘The only blood I crave is that of our enemies. She is our mate.’
“You promised?—”
‘As did you, yet the West is very far from where you stand.’ It was laughing at him again, and Flynn’s temper jumped. ‘Our pact needs amending. I will sleep, as long as she and our get are safe. Else, I rise.’
Reaching down into the water, Flynn splashed a handful over his face. It dripped from his fingers, the intersecting ripples fanning outward across the still surface, breaking up the image of what was behind him.
Not enough.
Eyes of electric blue met his, trapping them as the water’s surface calmed. His hand twitched, praying for one more droplet to flick out and disturb it. The looming shadow began to resolve?—
A firm grip on his shoulder woke him. His stomach rumbled.
What the fuck? The impression of teeth, and something laughing prowled from his mind.
“Come get something to eat, Laughlin. You slept through dinner.” Miriam’s brow was creased with worry.
Flynn eased his arm from under Kara and pulled the blankets up around her. The disturbing dream faded into his subconscious as he did. She made a little noise, and he smiled, kissing her temple.
He followed his aunt into the kitchen and sat at the table.
“I’ve never known you to miss a meal. No wonder you’re a rail.” She pulled a plate out of the oven for him, missing his eye roll. “ Nothing fancy, just meatloaf. I didn’t know when you were gonna get up here. I’ll have something special for you tomorrow.”
Flynn smiled as he chewed. The woman could make him stone soup and it’d be better than anything he’d eaten in years. “S’perfect. Thank you.”
She poured herself a mug of tea and sat across from him, watching him eat. He’d just about finished when she spoke again. “I’m concerned about your bond with that girl, Laughlin. It’s not what it should be.”
“I wouldn’t know,” he said around his mouthful. “I’m staying with her, Miriam.” He took another bite, glowering at her from beneath his brows.
She grunted as if confirming something to herself. “Bernie’s coming down. She’ll be able to shift the energy and make sure she’s not coercing you.”
Flynn’s fork clattered onto his plate. “No.”
“Laughlin, I’ve never seen you act like this. Nora Jester’s behind this somehow. If that girl’s forcing your feelings?—”
“Who says my feelings are forced?”
Miriam gave a long-suffering sigh. “Oh, please. You’re the last man I ever would’ve expected to enter into a bond willingly, let alone be so twitterpated!”
“Things change, Miriam.”
“Then why is she all marked up?”
Shit. The bruises. He flushed, looking away. “That’s different.”
Miriam crossed her arms over her breasts, glaring at him above the rims of her glasses. “I won’t have any of that under my roof.”
Christ, it was already starting.
“You’re like my own son, Laughlin. I only want what’s best for you. I don’t care what that woman and your mother cooked up between them, or what Cal’s got rattling around in that squirrel cage of his. I’m all for reunification, but I’ve never understood the mentality behind bonding a Scot to one of those inbred?—”
A growl rumbled through his chest, and she bit back whatever bigoted bullshit she was about to spew. She sniffed, wiping her hands on her towel like she’d dirtied herself .
“Fine, I’ve said my piece, but I’ve never trusted Nora Jester as far as I can throw her, and I don’t expect her daughter’ll be any different. Bernie’s looking at your energy, and that’s final.” Miriam stood with another sigh, hugging him against her ample bosom. “Now, I don’t like it, but I’ll allow you to stay with her, so long as you mind your manners.” She kissed the top of his head. “Go on now, and don’t forget to say your prayers.”
He made his way back across the hall. Stripping down, he crawled under the covers with Kara. She turned to him, that damned frilly nightgown rasping against his skin.
Fucking Miriam. Kara wouldn’t… It wasn’t like that, but no way was he going to explain feeling the pull. He brushed a lock of hair from her brow, positive that’s what it was. Fragments of memory pushed their way upwards. That stone-cold goddess standing in Meddleton’s gardens beside Cal, a fussy toddler in her arms. He’d been what? Seven, eight?
His grandfather had presented the kid like she was his. “Our little belle…” Flynn kept trying to peek at her, but the girl’s face was hidden against her mother’s shoulder. They’d been touring the estate, talking politics, and had stopped beneath the rose garden’s bower. The child’s sobbing was wrenching. He couldn’t understand why they were all ignoring it.
“I can take her for you.”
They’d broken off, staring at him. Lot’s feet scuffed the gravel path, and Flynn tried not to flinch, already feeling the beating he was gonna get.
The goddess laughed. It wasn’t as pretty as his mom’s. “I didn’t think little boys liked babies.”
Her tone made him bristle; he hated it when people talked down to him. He wasn’t stupid.
“I’m not little.” It came out in the growl his mom called his wolf voice, and Flynn felt the air get thick with his father’s temper. His own spiked in response. It was true! She wasn’t much taller than he was.
The little girl pushed away from the goddess’s shoulder, and turned to look at him, thrusting out a chubby arm. Her eyes were very brown. She pointed at him and laughed, her tear-stained cheeks dimpling. “Mine!”
Flynn’s glower split into a grin. “See? She wants to be with me. I’ll take good care of her, I promise.”
Loaded glances shot over his head like artillery fire. The toddler began fussing again, straining toward him.
“Please?”
Cal flicked away his cigarette and put an arm around the goddess’s waist. “Go on Nora, might as well see how the two take to each other.”
She wet her lips and set the child on her feet.
The little girl was moving before her mother let go, flinging herself at him. They’d sat there beneath the roses as the adults talked, playing with some gears he’d had in his pocket. Then she’d climbed into his lap and fallen asleep.
The small, warm weight of her had stayed with him. They’d both cried when it was time for her to leave.
He’d be damned if he ever let her go again.
The room was dark when Kara woke, the house silent, and her bladder uncomfortably full, like she’d drunk that stupid lake. Flynn snored softly beside her, his arm a protective weight across her waist. Through the window, the black shapes of mountains rose against a sky of a billion stars. She’d had no idea there were so many.
The fall of footsteps sounded in the hall. Flynn’s arm tightened around her, and he buried his face in the pillow.
Miriam peeped through the crack in the door, cradling a glowing sphere in her hand. She smiled and came in. “I thought I felt my ward go off. How are you feeling?” she whispered, sitting at the bedside. Kara glanced at Flynn to keep from staring at the woman’s lacy night cap and ribbon-bedecked robe.
“Don’t worry, I swear that boy hibernates when he sleeps. A marching band could come through here, and he wouldn’t know it.”
Kara smiled at the unfamiliar twang to the woman’s speech as much as the observation .
“I’m tired, but I really need to use the bathroom.”
Nodding, Miriam put a hand on Kara’s abdomen, flickering as she pulled talent.
Kara’s jaw dropped, the urge to go, gone. Did she just shift my bladder?
“Pretty neat trick for a hick from the Outside, hmmm?”
Kara blushed. That dart had hit entirely too close for comfort.
“You’ll gonna discover quite a few things up here you’ll find difficult to credit at first, dear. The world’s a lot different than the Source would have you believe.” She placed the glowing sphere in Kara’s hand. It didn’t have the quick flicker of a plaz strip. “So many things can be done with talent that they’ve suppressed. Take shifting for example. The Source only utilizes it to transport goods or people. That sphere holds electric light from Glynfyls.”
But energy couldn’t be… Kara’s eyes got hot. Was anything she thought she knew the truth? Flynn murmured in his sleep, snuggling against her.
Miriam’s expression tightened, her eyes unfocusing. “Since you’re awake, I’ve been wanting to ask about this bond you have with our Laughlin. Part of my talent lets me see energy. You’re both wound up tighter than a two-dollar watch.”
“He said something about it being more than it should. When I healed him, I thought he was a sub. My talent reverberated back, doing a lot more than I’d intended.” She bit her thumb. “Maybe I messed that up, too.”
Miriam’s gaze sharpened, and she patted Kara’s arm, getting up. “I don’t believe you intended any harm…” The woman’s eyes ran over his bare arm and shoulder, welling up. Her hand moved like she wanted to touch him, then her fingers went to her lips.
“He let you heal his scars?”
“I-It was a mistake.”
Miriam pulled out a beaded necklace with a dangling cross and kissed it. “God doesn’t make mistakes, that’s on us. It took guts to tell me the truth, and I like you better for it. We’ll talk more in the morning. Try and get some sleep. ”
She slipped from the room, leaving Kara with another puzzle piece to turn over.
Flynn was gone when smells from the kitchen woke her several hours later. She felt almost human with the talent he was pushing her and was starving.
The door squeaked on its hinges. He came into the room with a tray of bacon, eggs, toast, and tea. He set it across her lap, closed the door, then stretched out next to her, grinning. A pot of honey sat beside a bowl of something white and creamy.
Kara laughed. “How did you know I was awake?”
“Miriam set a ward. Eat these first, her grits are my favorite. I like ’em with hot sauce, but I bet you’ll like them better with honey.”
Kara drizzled some on and took a bite. She moaned, they were just about the best thing she’d ever eaten. It took no time to finish the bowl and lick the spoon clean. Blushing at the look Flynn was giving her, she picked up a piece of toast. The rest seemed like it only took a blink to eat.
“I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”
“Miriam’s cooking will do that to you.” A rumble of voices sounded in the hall, and his face went serious. “So, my father will be here tonight. I…we didn’t exactly part on good terms. I’m gonna try not to lose my temper, but the man gets under my skin on purpose. It can be, ah, heated between us.” He wouldn’t look at her, and his anxiety was making her nauseous.
“I used to drink. A lot. More, after my mom died. The last few years I was up here aren’t real clear, and what is, I wish wasn’t,” he muttered, mussing his hair. “That falling out I told you about, last time I saw him, we got into it. I hit him in front of a bunch of people. I can’t imagine this is gonna go well.”
She moved the tray aside, curling up with her head against his shoulder. “If it’s okay with you, I’ll hide in here. I’m not really up for meeting anyone.”
Flynn kissed her, his hand running over her abdomen. The depth of his emotion regarding their offspring kept surprising her. Was she supposed to feel the same?
“You should rest. I need you to get better,” he rumbled .
Those eyes of his…they were more hazel today, with little gold flecks streaking from his pupils. She stared into them but couldn’t find those motes of blue. Kara twined her fingers in his hair.
“Let me see them first,” she whispered, drawing a sharp breath at his surge of quickly suppressed lust.
“Miriam’ll have my hide if she finds out I messed with you.”
“I thought hiding’s what you do.”
Flynn threw a quick glance over his shoulder, then kissed her. When he pulled back, his halos glimmered. She stared into the copper-green depths. He brushed her cheek and groaned. “You’re so beautiful.” He lowered his lips back to hers. She slipped her hand into his sweatpants, running her palm over his taut flesh. “Kara?—”
“Please?”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
Something about the way he said it made her brow crumple. “I’m not asking you to.”
His hand slid up her thigh, bringing the nightgown with it. Halos glowing, he kissed her languorously, and she laughed.
“You’re going to make me beg, aren’t you?”
“No, not today.” He breathed, teasing her lips with his. “I just want to feel you.”
She cried out softly when he entered her, nuzzling at her neck. Taking his time, he brought her gently, without any of the fierceness they usually shared.
He trembled against her as they came, and she kissed him, feeling the dampness on his cheeks. He ducked his head, wiping his face against the pillow with a laugh.
“Damn woman.” He brushed her hair back, his eyes heavy with emotion.
“I love you, too, Flynn.”
He dipped his head to kiss the bite mark on her shoulder. Why did it hurt him to hear her say that? She couldn’t understand his tangle of emotions. Propping himself up on an elbow, he traced the bruise.
“You need to heal these. I should’ve had you do it before we got up here.”
“Why? I thought you liked seeing them. ”
“I do.” His eyes met hers, and she shivered.
“I like seeing yours, too.”
He made a low sound in his throat. An old hurt inside of him ruptured and misery poured from it. “Goddamn, you do things to me, Kara, but when we’re in Glynfyls, I can’t…I have to be different. Be what my line, what my House wants.” He skimmed his fingertips over the mark again. “Before…this, my drinking, my temper. They caused problems. I caused problems. You’re gonna hear a lot of shit about me, but I swear you’re the only woman who’s ever seen my halos.”
She gave him a funny look, and he scratched his stubble.
“Ah, Talents up here don’t flash them. It’s, um, taboo, I guess. If you hide your halos, you’re safer. Showing them’s a lot more intimate than sex, especially for Shades. I’ve never…” He looked away, embarrassed. “No one’s seen mine since they came in and never like that. Seeing yours at the coop was erotic as all hell, more so than if you’d been walking around buck naked. That’s why earlier when you asked…” Flynn gave her that grin of his. “Damn, it was dirty.”
Kara laughed. That was why he wouldn’t look at her? “I’m glad I was your first.” She laughed at his blush. Served him right.
He pulled the quilt up around them. “Heal yourself before you forget.”
Her halos pulsed, and the dull ache at her throat and shoulder went away. Exhaustion rushed in to fill the void. Flynn swore under his breath and pushed her more talent. He settled her against his chest, and she snuggled into him, letting the rhythm of his heart lull her to sleep.
Titus regarded Riegel from over the rim of his bourbon, making the Breaker wait. His brazenness requesting an audience after his recent behavior bordered on suicidal. Between the throbbing in Titus’s head and what had just come out of the cur’s mouth, his death wasn’t outside of the realm of possibilities.
Titus spun his glass on the wide wooden arm of his chair. “You’re insinuating that I made a poor choice in letting the Commandant have a free hand with the Jester girl’s retrieval. Explain, what would you have done differently?”
The chips of ice clinking against the sides of his glass were very loud. So was the man’s breathing. Damn this headache.
Riegel’s Adam’s apple bobbed, and he wet his lips. “I couldn’t say, since I wasn’t onsite when decisions were made.”
Unfortunately, that was a fair answer. “And if given free hand, what would you do now?”
“Go after her.”
Interesting. Titus would’ve bet on the strutting peacock dancing around it for a while. When he remained silent, the Breaker went on with more enthusiasm.
“My squad and I?—”
“No. After your last botched foray, I’ve pulled your clearances.” Rubbing a temple, Titus brought up the disparate surge data he’d been so frustrated by for the past few days. “How is it your ability’s faltered so drastically of late?”
Riegel paled.
Titus took a sip of his drink, vexed that the man had thought he’d hidden it.
“I find this and your recent tantrums to be of concern. I suppose it could just be the stress getting to you, though I wouldn’t have pegged you for performance anxiety.” Riegel’s eyes flashed, but Titus was in too much pain to smirk.
“The Corporation’s interests would be best served by monitoring your talent. The geneticists will be able to verify if this is a latent flaw, or something else. Unless you have some insight?” He sat back, watching the wheels in Riegel’s head spin and feeling them grind in his own.
“No, sir, I’ll be happy to cooperate. Anything that will clear me to attend to my duties upon Talent Jester’s retrieval.”
Titus swirled the ice in his glass, not ready to disabuse him of that fantasy quite yet. “Good, get out.”
Bowing formally, Riegel left the room.
Titus took a long swallow of bourbon, trying to remove the bad taste the man had left in his mouth. Head throbbing, he summoned Otto to attend him. He needed the oily little Binder to get rid of this damnable pain, then peer inside Riegel’s skull and ferret out the particulars of his relationship with Kara Jester.
The decision to hedge his bets and procure Ielle so late in the game was paying off. What she’d shared painted an intriguing picture. Taken into account with the vector data from the border, he was even more eager to lay his hands on the Jester girl.
Titus shook out another handful of orange and yellow pills and threw them back with the last of his bourbon. Someone cleared their throat by the door.
“Ah, Otto. I have a job for you. I need you to flip through BrNC37’s memories. There’s a particular incident I want details on involving Kara Jester.” A sub refilled Titus’s glass, and he took a sip, wincing.
“As you wish, sir. If I may inquire, how have your migraines been?”
“Worse. Here, do whatever it is you do.” Titus put his drink down and leaned back in his chair as the man rounded the desk.
Unpleasantly moist fingertips pressed into his temples, and the world blinked.
Titus opened his eyes, filled with a renewed sense of purpose and clarity of vision. His smile was almost without rancor as he retrieved his bourbon and took a sip. Its complexities and subtle nuances danced across his tongue in the absence of the dull metallic tang his headaches always brought. He regarded Otto, opposite the desk once again.
The man looked as if he’d been gnawing on a particularly juicy bone.
“Marvelous. I feel much better. Now, I have another job for you…”