Chapter 2
Chapter
Two
HAVEN
Ten minutes. That was how long it took the guard to arrive. Ten minutes to gather my thoughts and courage. Ten minutes to say goodbye to my old life. Ten minutes before four enormous men crowded our small parlor, taking every bit of space and electrifying the air with male dominance.
Why were the worst men always the most handsome? In another situation, I might have appreciated their good looks. With my life at stake, square jaws and chiseled features meant nothing to me.
The largest of the four had shoulders that barely cleared the doorway.
Slabs of dense muscle promised violence.
His eyes swept the room—exits, windows, potential threats—before settling on the body.
His face, a study in angular lines, tightened in annoyance.
He shifted his gaze to me, and his impossibly blue eyes took my measure.
I met his gaze briefly, then lowered it to my lap. I wasn’t a threat. Not at all. Please, please, underestimate me.
“What happened here?” Each word was clipped, military-precise. The gravel in his voice matched his face and body. Hard. Unyielding. Dangerous.
“He showed up looking for his daughter.” I was a terrible liar; keeping close to the truth was my only hope.
“Is she here?” He scanned the room as if I might be hiding a child in the shadows.
“I have no idea where she is.” Truth. Now came the tricky part—the outright lie.
I clasped my hands behind my back and took a shaky breath.
I had to convince them. The authorities allowed our shelter because it kept girls who had nowhere else to go off the streets.
If they caught me lying, every girl in the house might lose her home.
“I told him she wasn’t here, and he lost his temper. ”
The man’s sharp gaze returned to my face, trapping me like a butterfly pinned to a board.
A second member of the guard turned over the body. “Fuck. Grayson, you’d better take a look.”
The giant, Grayson, turned away from me, and I wiggled my fingers, releasing the tension that had traveled from my shoulders to my hands.
The second man shook his head as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. “It’s Wolgen Smit.”
Now four sets of eyes pinned me to a board.
“What happened here?” Grayson demanded.
“I told you. He got angry.”
“That doesn’t explain a dead council member.”
“He threw death magic at me.” My words hung in the air like bubbles. Fragile bubbles. This wasn’t my fault (a lie). I didn’t have the power to kill a man like Smit (but I’d done it). I offered them a weak smile, hoping they’d collect the body and leave us be (not a chance in hell).
“If that’s true, why aren’t you dead?” Grayson pricked the bubbles, and harsh reality returned. His eyes narrowed, and he glared at me as if I were upsetting the natural order by drawing breath. Oh, and he didn’t like sharing air with me. He might be handsome, but he was a complete asshole.
“His magic bounced back at him.”
They all stared at me.
I stared back, trying to make myself smaller.
The silence stretched.
“Flynn.” Grayson jerked his chin at me. “Hit her.”
Flynn examined his nails and brushed a piece of lint off his uniform.
If Flynn’s magic rebounded, and I killed a guard, my life was over. Before I had a chance to truly worry, fire blasted from his fingers and flames engulfed me. I stood in the center of a furnace, but my skin didn’t blister or burn. I didn’t even feel the heat, just a vague warmth. Nothing more.
“Enough.” Grayson crossed his arms over his impossibly massive chest, and his scowl deepened.
I didn’t move, doing my best to project I’m-a-harmless-female vibes.
Flynn cocked his head, running his fingers through his red hair as he studied me with avid curiosity, like I was an entertaining puzzle. He was deliberately slow to stop the stream of fire, clearly enjoying the show.
I wasn’t a puzzle. I was a woman having a terrible day, one who’d failed to convince him with her harmless act. “Are you done?” I snapped.
A fresh wave of fire hit me. If I didn’t have a shield, I’d be nothing but a charred husk on the living room floor. I glared at him. “Was that necessary?”
Flynn’s grin widened as he blew on his fingertips. “Just being thorough.” His casual tone made it clear that attacking an innocent woman was more entertainment than duty.
All right, not so innocent. But he didn’t know that.
Impossibly, Grayson looked even stonier. “Pierce.”
Pierce tilted his head, studying me like a specimen before raising one pale hand.
A wave of icy blue magic rushed toward me, peaking and then crashing above my shoulders.
I knew I should feel cold, but I didn’t.
At most, Pierce’s magic felt like a cool shower on a hot day.
Refreshing. Especially after Flynn’s fire.
The man directing his magic at me had long white-blond hair, cheekbones as sharp as knife blades, and pale-gray eyes—ice chips, really.
Those chips held a slightly bemused expression—as if his failure to freeze the blood in my veins surprised him.
Without a word, he straightened his cuffs, his expression returning to neutral.
“Teal?”
The remaining guard stepped forward with easy confidence, a roguish smile playing at his lips. “My turn, sweetheart.” Green magic coiled from his hands, forming choking vines with killing thorns that snaked across the floor with predatory grace, eager to choke me or rip my flesh from my bones.
When the vines reached my shield, the leaves withered, and the stalks dried. The thorns crumbled to dust on contact. Teal’s eyebrows rose in appreciation, and his frown shifted into an intrigued grin. “Well now, that’s interesting.”
Before I could tell him to go to hell, a wind gusted through the room, strong enough to move the furniture. Strong enough to break the windows. Brutal gusts sent the glass shards right at me. But the glass was controlled by magic and couldn’t touch me. I sat in the center of a maelstrom.
Pierce observed the chaos with detached interest, hands clasped behind his back, as unmoved by the violence as if he were watching a gentle rain.
Like all quads in the guard, each member controlled an element—fire, water, earth, and air. They’d shown them all.
Grayson’s gale died. “You’re coming with us.”
Exactly what I’d feared. “On what charge?” Somehow, despite my racing heart, I kept my voice steady.
“Murder.”
My mouth went dry. He was bluffing, I was almost sure of it. “He broke into my house and attacked me, and you’re accusing me of murder?”
His left eyebrow quirked. “He is the one who’s dead.”
“You’ve seen my shield.”
“I have. We all attacked you with deadly magic, yet we’re still standing. You chose to kill him.”
“Perhaps my shield can divine intent.” It couldn’t.
My shield had no mind of its own. Mostly.
Until today. When it rebounded Smit’s magic and landed me in this mess.
Something foreign burrowed beneath my skin—Smit’s magic, still there like an evil parasite I couldn’t shake.
But worse, I could also feel echoes of the guards’ powers.
Fire that made my fingertips tingle. Ice that cooled my blood.
Earth that thrummed in my bones. Air that whispered at the edges of my mind.
I pressed my palms against my temples, trying to shut out the alien sensations. This wasn’t how shields worked. We deflected magic, we didn’t—couldn’t—absorb it. So why did Flynn’s fire kindle in my chest? Why did I know exactly what was wrong with the sickly plant on the windowsill?
The worst part? A traitorous corner of my mind whispered that their powers felt right, like missing pieces I’d been searching for my whole life.
Which was terrifying. And impossible. I was a shield, not an elemental.
But their powers were there, lodged inside me.
Another secret I had to keep if I wanted to continue breathing.
Grayson’s eyes glittered like sapphires. “You think we didn’t try to kill you?”
Why did his words wound me in a way his magic couldn’t? Why did I expect members of the guard to behave better than a man like Wolgen Smit? I should know better. I was a woman. They thought I was disposable. Also, they were men. I thought they were cruel, callous monsters. “I defended myself.”
“You’re a shield. You could have withstood his magic.
Instead, he’s dead.” Flynn, the one who’d thrown fire at me, smirked and sank onto Grandmother’s couch, lifting his booted feet onto the coffee table, then making a show of examining the scorch marks he’d left on the upholstery. “Looks like you need to redecorate.”
I swallowed my extreme annoyance. If I let his rudeness distract me, I’d be taken. No question. Instead of pointing out that the burned fabric was his fault, I continued my argument. “Death magic is rare.”
Grayson grunted.
“Only found among men.” In other words, I didn’t have the power to kill the man on the floor. “He’s dead by his own doing.”
“Doesn’t matter if you killed him or not.” Grayson reached for my arm. “You’re still coming with us.”
I shifted away from him, evading his grasp. “I’ve done nothing wrong.” Well, not counting killing Smit and hiding my shielding powers for the past decade or so. Other than that, I was completely innocent. Mostly innocent. Everyone had secrets.
Grayson pinched the bridge of his nose, very clearly running out of patience. “You’re a shield.”
I had a shield. I was a friend. A sister and confidante to the girls we took in. A granddaughter. A woman. And that was my problem. In Legacia, women might have powerful magic, but they didn’t have power.
I’d known this was coming from the moment I saw those twisted colors light Smit’s hands.
Girls with shielding powers were required to serve in the guard.
Grandmother and I had managed to conceal my powers when they first manifested.
Now, nearly fifteen years later, Wolgen Smit’s lifeless body meant I couldn’t hide anymore. I tried for nonchalance. “So?”
“It’s time for you to serve your country.”
Serving our country was what had killed my mother. I gathered my courage and straightened my shoulders. “If I say no?”
“You’ll spend the rest of your life in jail.”
A woman’s life meant even less when she was behind bars. Conditions were brutal. Rape was common. Suicide wasn’t unheard of. I wouldn’t last a month. Fear bloomed like a toxic flower, but I managed a nonchalant shrug.
His jaw muscle ticked once before his lips thinned into a hard line. He rolled his shoulders, as if shrugging off something distasteful. “Along with every other member of this household.”
My eyes widened. “Are you really that evil?” The words slipped out.
His scowl deepened.
I glanced at the others.
Pierce’s pale gaze shifted between me and Grayson, as if he was calculating the exact probability of my compliance.
Flynn buffed his nails against his chest.
Teal looked slightly pale.
I couldn’t allow Grayson’s threat to stand. “You’d harm innocent girls to get what you want?”
If looks could kill, I’d be on the floor with Smit. I definitely wasn’t making any friends.
“Come with us, or your friends and family pay the price.”
He meant every word. There was only one choice, but was I strong enough to make it?
“Haven.” Grandmother stood in the doorway. Alone. That meant Khouri was safe. At least one thing had gone right today. Assuming we weren’t all dragged to jail.
The men turned toward her, and her sharp green eyes took in the broken glass, the singed upholstery, the upended furniture, and each man who’d invaded her home. She paused when she reached Flynn, and her gaze narrowed.
Under Grandmother’s withering stare, Flynn’s cocky grin faltered. He tugged at his collar and slowly—reluctantly—removed his feet from the table.
Only when his feet hit the floor did she look at me.
“Who are you?” Grayson’s tone commanded an immediate answer.
“Valera Ford. You are in my home.” Her tone made it clear he wasn’t welcome.
“This one.” He jerked a thumb in my direction. “Will come with us.”
“On whose authority?” Grandmother didn’t look remotely intimidated. She held her head high, and even though she stood a foot shorter than the hulking guards, she managed to look down her nose at them.
“Mine.” His stance shifted subtly, feet planted, hands clasped behind his back, square jaw held high—a man accustomed to being obeyed without question.
“And you are?”
“Gunn Grayson, colonel in the king’s guard.”
“Hmph.” Grandmother was unimpressed. “You will not take my—” Clouds blossomed in her eyes, and her white hair lifted off her shoulders as she stared at a future only she could see. The air around her crackled with energy.
Three times. Three times I’d seen Grandmother lost to a vision. And each time my spine tightened, my scalp tingled, and I had to fight the urge to run. This time was no different.
Teal retreated until he stood by the cold fireplace, but not before flashing Grandmother a charming smile. “She’s a seer?”
Obviously perched on the tip of my tongue. Rather than draw further ire, I settled for a short nod.
The men watched her as if they’d unexpectedly found themselves in a pit filled with writhing vipers.
Grandmother’s sightless gaze settled on each man in turn.
“You are fools.” Her lips twisted into a cruel grimace, and she chuckled, as if whatever horror she saw amused her.
“You will regret every cutting remark, every cruelty. You will try to break what is most precious to you. If it were me, there would be no forgiveness.” She chuckled darkly.
“You think you hold the leash, but the hound has already slipped her collar.” Then she turned to me, and her eyes returned to their usual mossy green.
“You must go with them, my love. It is the hard choice, but it is also the right choice. The only choice. The road will be torturous, but you must persevere. No matter how tempting it is to give up, to choose eternal rest, do not falter. Choose life.” She opened her arms, and I rushed into her embrace, savoring every precious second.
“We could fight them,” I whispered.
“We’d lose.” She stroked my hair. “Besides, you are needed. Your future is not in Grimswood.” Again, she took a moment to study the men who’d invaded our home, then she whispered, “Stay strong, my darling. If you need me …”
“I know,” I whispered back. “I’ll be in touch.”
Grayson swept his gaze across the room one final time—cataloging threats, memorizing the layout—before his hand closed around my arm.
I got one last look at Grandmother before the guards dragged me away.