The Bound Zodiac (The 13th Zodiac Trilogy #3)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

JUPITER

The car from Imperium idled at the curb outside Heathrow’s arrivals terminal, its engine purring low while I leaned against the hood and scanned the crowd spilling through the doors.

A week had crawled by since that conversation with the guys.

My parents stepped out together, Mom in her sensible travel jacket, Dad already grinning when he spotted me.

Instantly, the knot in my chest loosened just enough to let me breathe.

“Hey, kiddo,” Dad said, pulling me into one of his rib-cracking hugs. Mom too, her arms warm and blessedly familiar, the faint scent of her lavender soap like a balm to the nerves.

The driver loaded their bags without a word, and we slid into the back seat. The village appeared around us in soft English twilight, stone cottages and narrow lanes glowing amber under the street lamps.

“Oh my gosh, it’s like a postcard,” Mom said, pressing her fingers to the window.

“A whole block that doesn’t have a single deli on it,” Dad said with a low whistle. We dropped their luggage at the inn first, a cozy place with ivy crawling up the front. Dad studied the facade with his hands on his hips. “No doorman. Charming.”

I snorted. “You’re not in New York anymore, dad.”

We wandered the streets after, Mom stopping to admire every flower box while Dad read the menu boards outside each restaurant with increasing skepticism. “Mushy peas,” he said, at the third one. “I’m just supposed to order mushy peas.”

“There’s always beans,” I suggested, only half teasing. Dad made a face of horror. He was a pizza guy through and through.

By the time we claimed a corner booth at the pub, the same one I’d visited with the Scorpios, the air smelled like ale and shepherd’s pie. I waited until the food arrived before I started talking, fingers tracing the rim of my pint glass.

“I made a decision,” I said, letting out a long breath. “About Nightfall. They’re officially transferring here next week, but strictly as a combat unit. Nothing romantic. Professional only.”

Mom and Dad exchanged one of those looks married couples did when they gossiped without the need for words.

Dad took a slow sip of his beer before answering. “Professional. Right.”

Mom reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “If that’s what you need to do, sweetheart, we’re behind you.”

Dad set his glass down with a soft clink. “I’m not a shield warrior, and I don’t pretend to understand half the nonsense you kids juggle, but if those boys hurt my baby girl again, I’m going to rip them some new assholes. Just so we’re clear.”

I laughed, shaking my head, but knowing he was serious. “I’ll be sure to give them a stern warning when they get here.”

He looked smug. “Good. Let them fear me.”

Mom kissed him on the cheek. “You’re absolutely terrifying, hun.”

“There’s this meeting coming up,” I said. “With the Order. It’s all very cloak and dagger, but I’m willing to hear them out. If it helps me figure out the Ophis stuff, maybe even points us toward the home worlds…”

Mom’s brow creased, that familiar worried line appearing between her eyes. “Honey, that’s an awful lot of pressure for one person to carry.”

Before I could answer, Noodle poked his head out of my sleeve, tongue flicking as he tested the air.

Mom’s face lit up. She stroked the top of his head with two gentle fingers. “There’s my good boy,” she crooned.

Noodle slithered straight into her lap. Mom reached into her purse and produced a small tupperware container, popping the lid to reveal a neatly coiled dead rat. She set it on a napkin and watched with pure delight as he struck.

I muttered into my pint, “You’re going to spoil him rotten.”

Dad chuckled, and Mom just grinned. Noodle coiled contentedly in her lap, soaking up the attention she gave him, fat and happy after his rat dinner.

Mom’s fingers paused on Noodle’s scales. “Are you sure this isn’t just another group trying to steer you toward their own agenda?”

“I’m sure they have an agenda,” I conceded. “But they’ve been straight about it. Lucas said outright it’s my choice whether I ever try to open a portal, and I believe him. They thought I was going to freak out when they told me, but honestly I should have seen it coming.”

“How on earth would you have seen this coming, Jupe?”

I sat back, running a hand over my face and fighting a yawn. “It’s just not a surprise, that’s all. It makes sense to try and get back to the home worlds, doesn’t it? I’m the first Ophis since the crossing, so can you even blame them for hoping I could be the one to make it happen?”

I thought back to the other night, in my dream, where Jamie showed me the beauty of the Pisces home world. An entire planet that the Aelari called home once upon a time, sitting there, out in the stars just waiting for its inhabitants to return. Was it so wrong of them to want to go home?

Dad leaned back, arms crossed. “Still doesn’t mean I have to like it. You’ve already got enough on your plate without ancient secret societies circling.”

“They’re offering to help me at least. They have scholars with information about Ophiuchus, and how to control my powers.

Every time I try to expand them, I run the risk of burning myself out.

Plus, if Nightfall’s really coming here next week, I’m going to need every advantage I can get to keep the peace. ”

The words hung there between us, and for a second the pub’s low chatter felt distant. Mom’s expression softened. “Well, just as long as you can walk away if it gets to be too much. In the end, it has to be a choice.”

I smiled softly. “I know, mom.”

By the time we left the pub, the sky had deepened to indigo and the street lamps cast long golden pools on the cobblestones. Mom looped her arm through mine as we walked back toward the inn. For the first time in weeks, the ache in my chest felt a little less intense.

Tomorrow I’d face the Order. Next week I’d face Nightfall. But tonight, at least, I had my parents, a full stomach, and Noodle was fat and happy.

The clock on my nightstand glowed 1:13 a.m. by the time I queued up the next episode of Outlander and sank back against the headboard. An empty marshmallow bag lay crumpled beside me, and I’d been mechanically tossing the last few to Noodle, who caught each one perfectly.

My phone was propped against a stack of books on the nightstand, Lydia’s face filling the screen from her dorm room at Dominion.

We’d started this ritual a week ago. Late-night FaceTimes synced to whatever mindless show we could find, just to keep from drifting apart.

It helped, mostly. I missed my best friends so much it ached.

“I still can’t believe Claire went back for him,” Lydia said, her voice tinny through the speaker. “That woman has zero sense of self-preservation.”

I smiled, tossing another marshmallow. Noodle snapped it mid-air. “I’m not even going to pretend like I wouldn’t have made the same decision.” I blushed as Jamie The Sexiest Red Haired Highlander To Ever Live Fraser, slowly walked towards the camera shirtless and sweaty.

I reached for the last marshmallow, split it in half, and lobbed one piece toward Noodle while popping the other into my mouth.

“So where are your five hunky new boyfriends tonight?” Lydia wiggled her eyebrows. “No sleepovers?”

“A girl needs her me time,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“You’re on your period.”

“Yep.”

Lydia snorted. “Same, actually. Even though Rafe made it very clear that it wasn’t a dealbreaker for him.”

I arched my brow. “Got yourself a certified freak in your harem, Lyd.”

She shrugged. “Don’t knock it till you try it.”

“Sure.”

‘What is period?’

I looked down at Noodle. “Great question. It’s when a woman’s internal organs stage a monthly revolt and evacuate through her vagina, taking her dignity and everyone’s good mood with them.”

“Did he just ask what a period is?” Lydia smiled at him. “Don’t listen to her, Nood. She’s being dramatic.”

“I really am not.”

Noodle glanced between us. ‘I am the more evolved species.’

“Bold claim from the guy with no limbs.”

The simulation chamber shimmered into existence around me, the familiar hum of Imperium’s training wards replaced by the low drone of airplane engines and the artificial chill of recycled air.

I stood in the narrow aisle of a commercial jet, the seats stretching endlessly in both directions, passengers frozen in mid-conversation or scrolling on their phones.

Lucas scanned the overhead bins carefully, like they might hide a bane inside of them, while Rowan’s broad frame filled the space behind, tracking every emergency exit or entry point, to which there were very little.

“This is idiotic,” I muttered, starlight flickering at my fingertips as I tested how quickly I could shape a dagger with it. “Bane don’t swarm planes. They hit crowds, town squares, places packed with life force. Not a tin can at thirty thousand feet with maybe two hundred snacks on board.”

Lucas shot me a look. “Told you the trainers had a sadistic streak. Rowan, on my mark.”

Rowan’s hand brushed my lower back. “Focus, Jupiter. Our magic needs to learn how to play nicely in tight quarters before we bond.”

My belly flipped at the thought, but I nodded, the three of us falling into a loose triangle as the simulation bane materialized. Shadowy voids cracking through the fuselage like little veins and fractures in reality.

The first one lunged from the cockpit area, and I ripped a portal open on instinct, silver light shearing the air. Lucas’s water surged in a pressurized arc, freezing the rift edges to stabilize it, while Rowan’s gravity tugged the creature off-balance, slamming it into the fake aisle.