The afternoon’s work was lightened by the midday repast’s flirtations. Sigrid flew through the reports awaiting her attention, noting any anomalies, and sorted them by known hereditary family groups wherever possible. Soon, she and her team would be able to compile a genetic map from the Sisters through their children into the present day’s populations.

Much work needed to be done before that could happen. Too many of those descendants had yet to return DNA samples to her office, in spite of the pressure placed on them by their heads of family. The piecemeal nature of the process could be frustrating, but it allowed work to be completed at a steady, methodical pace. Rushing through a backlog of tests would only lead to costly, time-consuming mistakes.

George knocked on her door an hour before the end of the work day, his young face set in a painfully apprehensive expression. “I’m leaving now. Doctor’s appointment.”

Sigrid pursed her lips, containing an exasperated sigh. “Why are you telling me?”

“In case you need anything before I go.” He shifted from one foot to the other, and his gaze drifted away from hers. “Do you?”

“No,” she said, her voice sharp. She released the sigh and tried again. George would never learn to face her as a man if she constantly rebuked him. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, sure,” he muttered, and shambled off with his shoulders hunched under the loose fabric of his sweater.

For a moment, something akin to concern pricked Sig’s conscience. Was something wrong with the boy? He was never one for a snappy step, but lately he seemed even more languid than normal, and that hangdog air had become a permanent fixture.

She shook the concern off and focused on the screen of her desktop computer. If something was wrong, he would tell her, or she’d learn about it through the gossip that inevitably found her ear, whether she wanted it to or not.

At precisely five o’clock, Sigrid shut down her computer and tidied her desk. A quick trip home to change clothes and eat supper, and after, she could make good on her promise to meet Will at The Omega.

Anticipation curled through her. She placed a hand over her stomach, exactly where the odd feeling resided. Yes, anticipation, for a dance or another kiss, for the hope of Will’s touch and attention. When last had a man aroused even that emotion within her?

Her eyelids slid closed as memory failed. Too long without then, so long she’d forgotten what the first, heady glory of having a man catch her interest felt like.

It wouldn’t do to appear overeager and risk having Will take her attention for granted.

And because of that, she slowed her pace and took her time driving home, picking out appropriate clothing, and eating supper. More than two hours later, she parked her Porsche in the Omega’s oddly crowded parking lot and entered, automatically assessing the knots of patrons scattered around the room. She noted the locations of those faces she was unfamiliar with, nodded to a few she knew, and caught a flash of long, black hair out of the corner of her eye.

The glimpse was fleeting, barely long enough for recognition to strike. Sigrid frowned. Min Li Snow Dragon. Moira wouldn’t be happy to see that Daughter again so soon after Min Li had delayed Moira while Tom was kidnapped.

A low, husky laugh snagged Sigrid’s attention, and she turned toward the bar. Will was leaning against it flirting with a Daughter, his smile too familiar for Sigrid’s taste. Was this the woman Moira had warned her about, the one who held Will’s heart? If so, why had he kissed Sig, accepted a date, and laughed and flirted with her? Why did he not pursue this paragon rather than spending his time with a woman he could never love?

The anticipation of seeing him withered into a tiny knot in her chest. And because he had, because he’d accepted Sigrid’s attention in this woman’s stead, was the other woman not too late? Now that Sigrid had singled him out, this upstart would simply have to find another man to dig her hooks into until Sigrid had decided exactly what she was going to do with Will Corbin.

Resolution firmed, she walked half a dozen steps in his direction, intending to set the smiling couple straight before flirtation developed into a liaison. A redheaded spitfire stepped into her path and held a hand up, halting Sigrid halfway to her destination.

“Hold yer ever lovin’ horses there, Sig,” Moira said. “Where do ye think ye’re off to?”

Sigrid jerked her chin at the bar. “Will and I arranged a dance this evening. I’ve come to claim it.”

“Ye’ll do no such thing. Young Will there deserves a bit of happiness.”

Irritation lifted Sigrid’s chin. “And he won’t find it with me?”

“No, he won’t,” Moira shot back. “All ye’re after is another notch in that hunk of iron ye call a sword.”

The blow hit too close to the mark. Sigrid stared down her nose at the smaller Daughter and curled her upper lip into a deliberate sneer. “What if I am? I’ll take care of him when I’m through.”

“Take care! Is that what ye call dumping the boy and breaking his heart?”

“You said he was in love with another woman,” Sigrid said stiffly. “Therefore, his heart won’t be involved in the least.”

Moira’s gritty resolve melted into a pitying expression. “Ye’ve done enough damage here, Sig. Let the lad be, or ye’ll have me to contend with, and all me kin, too.”

Sigrid huffed out a short laugh. “We’ve never quarreled over men before.”

“This one is worth the bother. Have ye told his gran of yer interest?”

“Anya Bloodletter is an old friend.”

“Aye, she is at that, but have ye told her?”

Sigrid kept her expression carefully blank. “Not yet.”

Moira narrowed her pale blue eyes into shrewd slits. “Ye’re afraid she’ll see right through ye and reject yer claim.”

“I fear no Daughter,” Sigrid said, her voice icy.

“On a battlefield, aye, ye’re the equal of most,” Moira agreed calmly, “but where the heart’s concerned, ye’ve always held fear. How many husbands have ye claimed?”

Sigrid snapped her jaws shut. Never had she taken a husband, only ever lovers, and Moira well knew that to be so. “What’s your point?”

“Young Will deserves a bit of happiness,” Moira repeated. “He’ll no’ find it in your less than tender care, will he?”

Sigrid glanced toward Will. His hands were busy polishing glasses, but his gaze rested on the unknown Daughter. It was soft, kind, and held a tender note she’d never seen him direct her way. “What’s the Daughter’s name?”

Moira turned and her gaze followed Sigrid’s to Will. “Chana Wolfbane.”

“I know of her,” Sigrid murmured. “She’s a good Daughter. Strong.”

“That she is.”

“You’re willing to risk our friendship over a man?”

“Over this one, aye.” Moira faced Sigrid and clapped a hand to Sigrid’s arm. “Be a shame to muss yer chiseled cheekbones with a blow of me fist.”

Sigrid reluctantly pulled her attention away from Will and mustered a knowing smile for her friend. “And risk the babe’s health?”

“Oh, the babe will have a hand in the blow, too.” Moira jerked her chin at the entrance. “Go on home with ye, now. Have a proper think on the matter without yer loins turning ye cross-eyed.”

“As if,” Sigrid huffed. “I’ll be back to watch the next ACC game.”

“I’m counting on it.”

Sigrid pivoted and left without looking back, but above the crowd’s lively chatter, a low male laugh drifted to her, teasing her with what could be.

 

 

Will woke slowly the next morning, his mind clouded with the night’s dreams. Sigrid leaning against him, laughing up into his face, her hands stroking his chest. Sigrid kissing him, her passion as great as his own.

Sigrid backing away from him, her ice blue eyes frozen and unfeeling.

He raked a hand over his face, tucked it behind his head, and blinked up at the ceiling. He’d waited for her all night, searched the face of every person entering The Omega, and not once had it been her. The tiny disappointments mounted up over the evening until eventually, they grew into a huge lump lodged in his throat.

She’d broken her promise, something no Daughter did without due consideration. He should’ve known he wouldn’t hold her attention for long.

“Goddamn it,” he muttered, and yanked the covers off his legs, baring them to the room’s chill. He rolled out of bed, inched the heat up to a respectable temperature, and slogged into the bathroom under the heavy weight of resignation.

Blessed Mother, why had he allowed himself to hope for even one second?

He drowned the faint hurt clinging to him under a hot shower, attempted to scrub it away, and finally, when the water was too cold to tolerate, he turned it off and got dressed for the day.

His cellphone was blinking when he retrieved it from the bedside nightstand. He opened the notifications, thumbed into his messages, and grunted. Rebecca wanted him to drop by her office as soon as he could, today if possible. He stuck his cellphone in his back pocket and finished getting ready. Food could wait, and probably should, given the hopeless ache knotted in his stomach.

By the Lady Ki, he had it bad.

Half an hour later, he jogged up the steps of the IECS’s main administrative building toward Rebecca’s office and checked in with her secretary, then plopped onto the couch in the waiting area and thumbed through the current issue of World of the People.

Six pages in, a picture of a Greek cup depicting an Amazon warrior on horseback was printed opposite a short paragraph speculating that the Bones of the Just had been found. Will shook his head. That wasn’t quite true. Only three sets had been found, as far as he knew, but even those few were cause for celebration.

Rebecca opened her office door before he could finish reading the article and held her hands out to him. “Will, darling, thank you for stopping by on such short notice.”

He dropped the magazine onto the coffee table, surreptitiously eyeing his cousin as he stood. Dark circles colored the once-smooth skin under her eyes, now marred by fine lines, and her normally rigid posture wasn’t quite stick straight. In spite of that, her red business suit was pressed and neat, her fine blonde hair was tucked perfectly into place, and her hands were steady, as only a warrior’s of her experience could be.

He crossed the room and pecked a kiss to her cheek, and breathed in the faintest hint of jasmine perfume. “You look tired.”

Her laughter was soft and not quite full. “Work has consumed too much of my attention of late.”

“So Robert’s ok?”

A flash of concern flitted across her expression and was just as quickly tucked away. “As well as can be expected.”

“I dropped by his office yesterday afternoon.”

“Oh.” She waved a hand and stepped back, inviting him into her office. “He stayed home yesterday. Said he hasn’t been sleeping well.”

“Neither have you,” he said, and closed the doors behind himself. “What’s really going on?”

“Work,” she said firmly. “Can I get you something to drink? Some water, perhaps?”

He shook his head, but let her evasiveness go. “I’m fine. You said you wanted to talk to me?”

“Yes, dear. Have a seat.” She sank onto a settee situated on one side of the room and held a hand out to the chair beside it. “We have some new faces in town.”

Will sat and hooked one ankle across the opposite knee. “Yeah. A couple of different groups came in yesterday.”

“They’re likely the first of many. Word has gotten out. The Oracle has awakened. The Bones of the Just are being located, when they were lost for millennia.” She shrugged and clasped her hands in her lap. “Some believe the Prophecy of Light is on the verge of being fulfilled.”

Excitement gripped Will, crowding out the despondency of Sigrid’s rejection. “Holy shit.”

Rebecca laughed and relaxed into the settee. “Indeed.”

“Sorry,” he muttered. “It’s just, the Prophecy of Light was a myth until Maya and James translated it.”

“And yet, one by one its components are coming true.” She leaned forward and brushed her fingertips over his knee, her laughter lost to an earnest expression. “Tellowee could be the gathering place spoken of in the Prophecy.”

“The Bones of the Just,” he murmured. Three sets found, four more to go, and the Sisters’ remains would finally be gathered together in one place for the first time in who knew how long. “What do you want me to do?”

A sly smile lifted the corners of Rebecca’s mouth. “How do you know I want something?”

“You asked for a meeting.”

“Age has dulled my subtlety. I’m sorry, darling.”

He clasped her fingers in his and smiled. “Anything you need, I’m here. You know that.”

“And that’s exactly why I called you, that and because of The Omega.”

“The natural spot for newcomers to go.”

“Making you the perfect person to handle those newcomers.” She exhaled slowly and tightened her grip on his fingers. “I knew I could count on you to grasp the situation quickly. The influx of members of the People is likely to be slow for a while, but soon, it could overrun our ability to house and feed everyone. I need someone to coordinate our efforts, to secure safe housing and supplies.”

“You’re not talking about food,” he said slowly.

“There’s something coming, Will, something…” She sucked in a breath and visibly gathered her composure. “We must be prepared for every eventuality.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“I know, darling. Thank you.” She squeezed his fingers a final time and released his hand, then sat back and speared him with the regard of the battlefield commander she’d been for so long. “Now, we have food, weapons, and ammunition stored in the caves behind the IECS, in the oldest parts of the Archives.”

Will took out his cellphone and opened up the memo app, and jotted down the names of the people in charge of the IECS’s stores. In the back of his mind, worry lingered. Rebecca was holding back on him, hiding something important. He’d figure it out eventually, but in the meantime, it looked like his workload had just doubled, and at a time when he most needed the distraction.