42. Cece #2
“And why should I hide this?” I ask, motioning between us. “You—from Luc and Xan? I trust them. I don’t know you. They can help me just as much as you can. Maybe even more.”
He cuts in, firm. “You are my child. My blood runs through you. No one understands your abilities better than the one they came from.”
He pauses, then adds more carefully, “And those from my realm, they know Xanther is guarding you. That makes you a target. I’m simply the safer choice for your training.”
He moves closer. “But it only works if we stay hidden. You need time, Chloe. Time to grow into what you are.”
I study him carefully, weighing everything.
“Fine,” I say at last. “But we do this on my terms.”
His brows raise in agreement. “Of course.”
I slide my phone across the table. “Do you have a cell?”
He gives a slight smile.
“Put your number in. I’ll text you—we’ll set a time.”
He looks up at me as he taps in his info. “I’m glad to see you, Chloe. To have a chance to speak with you. I know none of this is easy, but today, it means the world to me.”
I stand, pulling my jacket closed over the pocket where the talisman now rests.
“Thanks for telling me the truth,” I say. “But it would’ve meant a hell of a lot more if you’d been a dad when I needed one. It would’ve been nice to grow up feeling like I belonged, like I had someone after Mom died.”
I pause, my eyes locked on his.
“So forgive me if I’m not exactly warm and fuzzy about this reunion. I needed you then.” I take a moment. “And while I appreciate your help, and yeah, I’ll take it, just to be clear . . . I don’t need you now.”
I turn and start walking away, the gravity of this whole situation becoming real. But just before I reach the door, I glance back over my shoulder.
“See you tomorrow, Alistir.”
The next morning, I don’t bother pretending I slept.
My mind wouldn’t stop, fragments spinning through the dark.
Alistir’s voice, the word Warper, Luc, the guilt of hiding this from Xan, which makes me feel like shit.
This is a lot. Like I’m walking through a world that keeps shifting beneath my feet.
Alistir and I agreed to meet during my lunch break.
He sent a location, an abandoned subway tunnel buried beneath the city.
When I arrive, it’s exactly what I expect.
The air reeks of damp stone, thick with dust that clings to my skin and coats every breath.
A low, constant hum is the only sound, maybe power lines buried deep inside the walls, but who knows.
It’s not the kind of place you want to linger in.
But no one comes down here anymore, which makes it perfect.
I step into the center of the wide, empty tunnel. It’s colder than I thought it would be. And even though it’s just Alistir and me, I can’t shake the feeling that someone else is watching.
He stands across from me, jacket off, sleeves rolled up, hands calm at his sides. “First thing we do,” he says, “is test how solid your resistance is.”
I cross my arms. “I already broke a tether. What else do I need to prove?”
“That it wasn’t a fluke. And that you can do it on purpose.”
I hate that he’s right. “Fine. Do it.”
With a flick of his wrist, the temperature drops. I don’t see him move, but something in the physical space between us feels different. Like there’s a thread being spun across the air. Then there’s a thin, sharp pressure pressing just behind my eyes.
“Focus on your center,” he says. “Not your thoughts. Your presence. Anchor there.”
I try. But the pressure digs deeper. Memories flash. The Surgers, the way my body wasn’t mine, the helplessness of that night they came for me. I almost let fear creep in, but I grit my teeth, clench my fists, and pull inward.
There.
A flicker of stillness. Like I’m entering a locked room inside myself. I focus on it, hold it like it’s the only thing keeping me from drowning.
“I feel it,” I say.
“Good,” Alistir replies. “Now sever it.”
The connection wraps tighter, like it knows I’m resisting. I see a flash of his energy in my mind, a thread of deep blue light, pulsing, trying to pull something from me.
Not this time.
I reach mentally toward it and imagine grabbing the thread. Then, without hesitation, I cut it.
The snap detonates inside my skull, violent enough to make me stagger, but not enough to bring me down.
Alistir blinks, surprised. “That was fast.”
I smirk, regaining my balance. “Told you I could do it.”
He nods, but there’s a flash of unease behind his eyes. “You’re adapting quicker than expected. That’s good. Also dangerous.”
“Dangerous for who?”
He doesn’t answer.
Instead, he walks to a nearby crate, opens it, and pulls out a small orb. It comes to life in his palm, glowing faintly. “This is a wardsphere. It picks up energy and can simulate tracking. Let’s see how long you can stay masked.”
I close my eyes and reach for that feeling again, the stillness. But this time, I push it outward, imagining myself vanishing from the world like static on a screen. Just white noise.
The orb hums. Lights flicker.
Thirty seconds pass. Then a full minute.
“Not bad,” Alistir says. “But your edges are fuzzy.”
I crack one eye open. “What does that mean?” I ask, not bothering to hide my irritation.
“You’re masking, but you haven’t built control. You’re bleeding emotion through the cracks. Fear, mostly.”
I clench my jaw and roll my eyes. “Super helpful.”
“It’s the truth,” he says. “Emotion is a frequency. If they can read it, they can find you.”
I take a deep breath and try again. This time, I reshape myself into someone else. Not Cece. Just a neutral imprint. Empty. Cold. Emotionless.
Everything else falls away. Alistir’s voice. Grit and debris crunching under our feet. The cold air against my skin.
The sphere shuts down completely.
Alistir just stares at it, eyes wide.
“That’s . . . advanced,” he says, brows raised.
I lower my hands, heart pounding. “You said I needed control. So I took it.”
“How’s your current? Can you control it?”
Before he can press further, I shut my eyes and sink inward.
I’ve unleashed my current on Luc before, but that was chaotic.
This time, it’s different. A slow warmth snakes around my legs, spiraling through my body, electrifying every nerve.
The energy thrums beneath my skin, vibrating insistently, demanding release.
So I surrender to it.
When I open my eyes, the lights in the tunnel explode in a brilliant flash, then vanish, leaving the tunnel in pitch darkness. A jagged pulse of electricity shoots down its length, crackling and alive.
Alistir freezes, mouth hanging open, eyes wide.
He looks as shocked as I feel. Only I can’t hide the thrill, because that was incredible.
He steps closer carefully, like he’s afraid. “I can’t believe it. I’ve never seen a being develop this much power so fast, Chloe. You’re beyond what I imagined.”
“Yeah,” I whisper, letting the pause stretch. “I think that’s been the problem.”
A second pulse hits. This time, from neither of us.
I spin around, eyes wide.
“Someone’s here.”
Alistir is already moving. “Mask. Now!”
I reach inward, draw the static over myself like a cloak, and press against the wall. Footsteps echo faintly from one of the dark entry tunnels. It’s cloaked like us, but I can feel the signature beneath it. A fluttering, fractured energy, like splintered glass.
Alistir’s voice echoes in my mind.
Stay hidden.
I remain masked, observing. Whatever it is, it can’t seem to find us. I feel the surge of readiness and move, then Alistir’s voice cuts in again, sharper this time.
Do not engage!
I step back—and it hits me all at once.
My mind fills with images and sound, sudden and invasive, like a screen lighting up inside my head. I don’t choose what I see. It just takes over, and I can’t shut it out.
I’m immediately transported.
I’m standing in a vast ceremonial hall. The space feels sealed off, private in a way that makes me uneasy. Surgers are gathered there, close together, speaking without actually speaking around me. One of them stands apart, elevated above the rest.
He doesn’t need to announce himself. Everyone else already knows who he is.
He never opens his mouth, but his emotions press into me with complete clarity. Contempt. Resentment. It’s aimed squarely at the Warpers—and it’s not his alone. The feeling moves through the others, shared among them, until the air itself is heavy with it.
And then the meaning settles in. I understand it.
They blame the Warpers for everything that was taken from them. For the loss of their role as guardians, a theft they believe was deliberate and orchestrated by Imperium. But the blame doesn’t end there. They hold Imperium responsible for the catastrophic changes that shattered their world.
The anger is deep. And very alive.
More flashes break through. Pieces of their world.
It’s dark and painfully cold, stripped down to something harsh and lifeless.
The land is barren and rotten, stretching endlessly in every direction.
Sounds carry across it. Unsettling sounds of unseen creatures slipping through the emptiness, never fully revealed.
I see conflict. War. Battles they believe are unavoidable.
I understand what I’m being shown.
Their plans.
A plot against Imperium. A revolution meant to reclaim control of their home. To take back the position they lost long ago, after the Warpers were given their gifts and the High Order rose to power, replacing the failed aristocracy of Imperium.
A chill runs through me, deep enough to steal my breath.
I’m no longer watching.
I’m inside their world. Living it. Feeling it. Breathing it.
When I look around, the truth is apparent.
This is where I am.
Then he appears, right in front of me.
He doesn’t announce himself, yet somehow I know exactly who he is.
The Warden.
I can’t move. My body won’t respond as he comes closer. He never speaks out loud, but his words arrive anyway, clear as day.
I will see you soon, Chloe.
The visions are gone.
I’m back in the tunnel, the Surger presence vanishing like smoke.
When I get home, I walk into the living room and spot Xan packing a bag. Supplies, from the look of it. He glances up as I enter.
“Good, I’m glad you’re here,” he says. “There’s definitely Surger activity. I also picked up another energy, but not Surger. It has me wondering if another Warper was sent here. Either way, I’m not liking it.”
I cross the room, eyeing the contents of his duffel. “Yeah . . . I felt something.”
He pauses, looking up at me again, more intent this time.
“Then why didn’t you reach out?”
His tone isn’t accusing, but it lands like a stone with the guilt I feel. I shrug too quickly.
“It was a crazy day at work,” I lie. Ugh, I hate this, hiding things from him. But I need a moment to figure this out. To understand what this means before I put Xan and Luc in harm’s way. And God, do I wish Luc was here.
“I figured today would be quiet with the event tonight,” I add, hoping to shift the focus.
His eyes narrow.
Right. The Halloween party. I’d nearly forgotten about Daniel bringing up the event in front of Xan.
“Speaking of parties . . .” he says, stopping mid-pack and giving me his full attention. “I think you should go.”
That stops me cold. “What? No, I’m not interested, Xan.”
He lifts his hands like he’s warding off my reaction.
“I’m just saying, I need to check a few things out, see if I can pick up more signal.
But I don’t want you alone. If you’re at the party, at least I know you’ll be around people.
Safer that way. Too many bodies. It’s not their usual hunting ground. ”
He meets my eyes, softer now. “It’s me trying to protect you, Cece. Just work with me on this one.”
I don’t argue. He doesn’t deserve that. Not with everything he’s doing, being here, watching over me, sacrificing his own safety.
“Sure,” I say. “I don’t want to. But I’ll go.” I try for a smile, but it comes out awkward and thin.