Chapter 10 Heidi
HEIDI
I skim the several messages Everett sent me early this morning as I walk down the sidewalk, bundled in layers against the windy March chill clinging to Chicago. I had to park farther away than usual from my therapist's building, thanks to the early morning rush hour.
Big Kahuna: Everything from the excavation has arrived safely at the big fae research facility just outside of Syracuse, NY. They haven't reopened either of the two recovered sarcophagi. Yet.
Big Kahuna: Brahm is still blaming you for the sleepers waking up yesterday, some bullshit about you trying to steal from them.
Noah and one other eyewitness both saw Brahm get into an altercation with you and insist that he opened a sarcophagus himself.
Unfortunately, Brahm is a silvertongued asshole and he riled up Marwood, who’s been making a bunch of threats about teaching you a lesson.
Big Kahuna: Don't worry. I'll get through to Marwood's people and find a way to talk him down from whatever shitstorm he's stupid enough to create. In the meantime, we’ll have people out looking for the escaped sleeper. My quintet and I will join the search once Maven returns.
The thought of Veld on the loose makes unease settle in my bones. Just remembering the way his dark eyes bored into me, his empty, meaningless lust clawing into me as his poor “fated one” watched on, hurt and jealous…
I shudder.
As a monster, Veld doesn’t feel emotions to a full extent. But the ones he does feel remind me a little too much of my mother, Daphne. From everything I’ve mentioned about her to my therapist, I’ve been assured that my mother was definitely a narcissist.
Something about the way Veld flaunted his interest in me in front of Nivarrah on purpose, belittling and manipulating her for his own humorless amusement…
Even though Nivarrah was terrifying, I honestly feel bad for her. I can’t imagine being trapped in such a powerful, permanent bond with someone who enjoys breaking my heart, but I don’t want a front row seat to that incubus’s inhuman emotions ever again.
Nauseated from the memories of those two in yesterday’s kerfuffle, I read Everett’s last text.
Big Kahuna: Oh, and there was a slight complication with Kenzie Baird’s delivery, so Maven stayed in Halfton longer than expected.
Baird should be fine. Her twins were both safely delivered twelve minutes apart.
Maven can’t believe that she missed “all the action” yesterday, but that’s nothing compared to her pet lizard’s reaction to hearing that there seems to be a black dragon shifter still alive. He won’t shut up about it.
"Good tidings?" Athanis asks from beside me when he sees the big grin on my face.
I startle a little and sigh, tucking my cell into my back pocket.
I can only imagine how lonely this poor priest must have been for the last few thousand years, so I don't blame him for sticking around me now that there's someone who can see and hear him.
But gods, I need a vacation from ghosts.
Except Jess, of course. She's still off haunting Stephanie's hot brother-in-law. I can't wait for my therapist appointment to be done so I can drive home and make thank-you-for-being-my-guardian-angel cookies for her.
I also can't wait to tell her about all the insane things that happened yesterday.
Finally uncovering the sleepers, meeting this dead priest, the sleepers getting free, the fallout…
Maybe she can help me feel sane again, because I'm still reeling from the shock and confusion of it all.
I could barely sleep last night, with the strange way my inner animal was acting.
"Great news," I confirm, smiling at Athanis as I pause at a crosswalk, waiting for the sign to go. There’s another random ghost waiting here at the light. I don’t get why they want to spend their limited time left in this plane of existence waiting at a light, but to each their own.
“All the valuable records your people left behind are going to be safe in the hands of the fae. "
Athanis considers that, turning to take in the city around us in fascination. He's been marveling nonstop about the human world ever since I agreed he could follow me home after Silas, Everett, and I left the excavation-gone-wrong yesterday.
Really, Athanis hasn't been bothersome. All I had to do was turn on a new documentary TV series about the history of legacies and the exodus of the Netherborn, and he was glued to the television all night while I tossed and turned in my room.
I just hope he gets tired of me and wanders off before Jessica comes back, because there is only room for one blue-haired ghostly companion in my life.
The pedestrian light changes. I walk across the street, trying not to flinch when someone else's emotions scrape against my lungs like tiny needles.
They're in the car, stopped at the light, and they must be having a horrible day.
I fight frustrated tears on their behalf as I hurry away, swallowing down the anxiety that haunts me every time I leave the house right now without the charm Silas is working on.
"And what about my friend? The warrior?" Athanis checks.
Right. The naked warrior.
Hubba hubba.
Last night, in the dark and quiet restlessness of my bed, all I could picture was that gorgeous ancient shifter who had so many intense feelings.
I almost passed out from the sheer magnitude of everything he was inexplicably feeling toward me—and that was after the shock of seeing him turn into a freaking black dragon.
With his warm skin and long, gorgeous black hair and those deep brown, deliciously hungry eyes—and my gods, those cheekbones that must've been sculpted by angels…
That body.
The ravenous hunger that had flooded my system.
That feeling that I belonged to him, completely and totally.
Not your feeling, I remind myself firmly. None of those were your feelings—they were his.
Of course, I don’t belong to that guy. He's an ancient warrior—a dragon shifter, for crying out loud. According to Silas, the last known black dragon shifter was killed off well before humans began sailing to the Americas to try to escape the monsters in the Old World long ago.
Everyone at the excavation was pretty shaken from the sleepers getting loose, especially because five of the fae were killed as a result of Nivarrah making everyone see all kinds of insane things.
But even for how shocking it all was, Silas had a strange reaction.
He kept dodging questions about the ancient warrior shifter and not meeting my eye after the other fae put the two remaining sleepers back to sleep.
Maybe Silas just noticed how…ahem. Excited the ancient warrior was to see me.
And maybe I should have been terrified of him, but I wasn’t, and neither was my inner animal.
It’s good that I have a therapy appointment first thing this morning. Maybe I can mention to Dr. Sergeeva that I’m having trouble separating my feelings from the emotions of a very confused, disoriented, attractive ancient dragon shifter warrior.
When my brother lovingly but firmly strong-armed me into going to therapy a while ago, he made sure to find the best, most discreet legacy therapist in Chicago.
Doctor Sergeeva is a blunt, talented sorceress who specializes in therapy for atypical casters and empaths.
Except for avoiding discussing my time in the Nether with her, I'm pretty honest in her office.
"Elise? What about my friend?”
I blink back to myself, smiling at the ghost drifting beside me.
Legacies live longer than most humans, and I'm always terrible at gauging their age, but Athanis died looking like a human does in his early thirties.
He's tall and slim with a narrow nose, a defined jaw, serious eyes, and hair silky enough to star in a shampoo commercial.
Not my type, but I bet he had his pick of the fae maidens back in the day.
Or maybe he didn't, since he was a priest. They were celibate. Right? Or maybe it's the prophets I'm thinking of…
I clear my throat. “Sorry, I got distracted.” Thinking about your ridiculously sexy ancient warrior friend.
"I'm really sorry that your friend was still taken by the fae yesterday.
He's in their facility near Syracuse right now, still asleep. Maybe I can figure out a way to ask my brother to pull some strings and get him set free.”
Athanis seems distracted, but nods. “Syracuse. I see.”
Rubbing the chill from my nose as I keep walking toward Dr. Sergeeva’s office, I start typing out a message to Everett to ask about maybe getting the black dragon shifter away from the fae facility. I'm still trying to figure out how to word it when a new message from him pops up.
Big Kahuna: Where are you right now?
Me: On my way to therapy. Why?
Big Kahuna: Cancel for today and go home. Get out of the public eye ASAP
Me: ?? Why? Did something happen??
I can see that Everett is typing, but strong emotions suddenly crash into me, shattering my concentration like a thin pane of glass. I stagger back, winded from the anger, aggression, determination, disgust, resentment—
"Elise?" Athanis checks, alarmed.
I can't draw in a full breath as a woman in an oversized coat and fuzzy earmuffs rushes to a stop in front of me, holding up a microphone.
Those negative emotions continue to roll off of her in waves, curdling the air around me.
Someone with a camera is right beside her, their anger also directed at me.
Anxiety spikes throughout my veins when that camera fixes on me, a red dot blinking beside the lens.
"Excuse me. You are Heidi Elise Murley, aren't you?" the woman demands.
…what?
How does she know my name?
"I, um…" I falter, my throat drying up as their loathing curls around me.
My phone starts buzzing as Everett tries to call me.
Confused by the emotions pounding against my chest and throat, I try to step back, but someone bumps into me from behind.
They apologize, but notice the camera and frown, stopping with their jogging partner as curiosity wells up around them.
I notice a car slowing as it passes, as if its driver is wondering why I'm on camera.
My inner animal tenses inside me.
Like me, she knows something is very wrong here.
"What do these fae want from you?" Athanis asks, confused.
Fae?
The mic woman's blue gaze is piercing, but as she turns toward the camera, I notice her ears are pointed under the earmuffs. The cameraman is also fae.
"Good morning, Chicago. I'm Kaitlyn Parks with CCS 35. We begin with breaking news: multiple verified sources have just confirmed that while many elite legacies were famously slaughtered in what has become known as the Purge of the Elites, there is, in fact, another surviving member of the infamous Frost family. She is standing before you now.”