Chapter Twenty-Six

Luke

 

The five of us made for the heart of Winfyre. Straight north, around the bay, past Yana’s home, and deep into the highest peaks of the Farthing Mountains. Xander’s home.

From up here, the inlet was the width of my hand, and Cobalt was barely visible, while Veda was a smudge of color to the north. The horizon was curved and filled with massive clouds. Around us, the trees were all lopsided, bending towards the east from the strong winds. It smelled like Winfyre.

Ocean, cold, and springtime. Usually, that scent soothed me, but now I could barely think straight. Everything was a stream of disjointed and sharp images. Lind’s smile, Kal’s tense posture, Pop’s still body, Reagan’s worried eyes, and a rain-soaked city street.

Xander’s cabin was tucked in a grove of pines, between two shelves of steep rock. A mountain stream rushed beyond it, and there was a small, grassy yard.

The cabin itself was simple and hardy, two sturdy floors of weathered oak that had lasted generations. It had belonged to Xander’s family. The Banes had liked their solitude and independence.

Rett was sitting on the grass, whittling a bear out of wood, and he sighed as we strode forward. “I smell trouble.”

“You’re not wrong, cousin,” Kal said and offered him a hand up.

Flicking the knife closed and tucking it in his pocket, he ran a finger over the bear’s back. “Xander and I were playing worst-case scenario.” He looked up and shook his head. “Can’t say I wanna win this one.”

Inside, we found Xander poring over a map of Winfyre, and his eyes flashing with gold fire. Two other shifters, Niles the healer and Deena, another Vixen, were having a quiet discussion by the window. All three looked up as we came in.

“You’re back earlier than I expected. How was dear Shauna?” Xander asked, and his nostrils flared. “Sarrow was there, too? And someone else?”

“Jim Terthal, the pharmaceutical guy,” Fallon said, a hand on her hip as we stood around the table. “If that’s even still a thing.”

“Terthal, Sarrow, and Lind,” Tristan said. “The evil triad.”

“What did they want?” Xander’s eyes went to me, and he frowned. “You?” I shook my head, unable to form words, and his frown deepened. “Reagan? Why?”

Jeques cleared his throat delicately and went on to reiterate what had happened.

He had an incredible, photographic memory, and an uncanny sense for sniffing out lies. As of yet, we hadn't figured out where exactly Jeques had served in the military or what he had done, nor did we care. We were lucky to have him.

Tristan let out several appreciative guffaws at Jeques’s excellent recap, even though he’d been there, Rett looked torn between laughing and throwing up, Kal was unruffled, and Xander glowered. At the end of it, I thought Xander might incinerate the table from a glance alone.

Then, to my surprise, his expression slowly cleared, and he let out a loud laugh.

“What the hell is so funny?” I rasped.

“The SB is so desperate, they’ve foolishly shown their hand,” he said. “We have what they want. This is good. We can use this.”

“They’re threatening to come after our home, Xander.” Fallon’s cheeks were red and bright. “The SB. How is that good?”

“Whatever Reagan is as a Riftborn, the SB is afraid of her, and I’d guess most Excris are, too.” Xander rubbed his jaw. “We need to have her tested, and she needs to learn to wield—”

“She isn’t a weapon,” I interrupted coldly. “Or a bartering chip.”

“All we know of Reagan right now is that she is able to instinctually communicate with animals, sense danger, and purge poison,” Xander said. “And she hasn’t even come into her Riftborn abilities. I’d say she’s more than an asset.”

“Purge…? What are you talking about?” I asked.

“She hasn’t told you,” Xander murmured. “Niles, if you would, please.”

I looked at the healer, and he gave me a lopsided grin. “Remember when Sarrow sliced you open?” I nodded. “Well, I took a look at the knife he used.” His smile faded, and he folded his arms. “Between the Excris steel and the compound they’d used, it was enough to kill you. Instantly.”

My blood went cold. “That can’t be right.”

“At first, I thought I was wrong, that maybe it was the stress of that night that had made me analyze it incorrectly. Then, we thought my mother’s suggestion was right, that you possibly had antibodies. Or had built up a tolerance from the last time. But this was a different and far more potent poison—I triple-checked.”

“Why am I not dead, then?” I asked.

“Xander and I discussed that from every possible angle. There’s only one that makes sense.” Niles gave me a steady look. “Reagan.”

“She’s a healer?”

“No, I don’t know what she is,” Niles said. “But whatever she did do, it was incredible. It’s like she burned all traces of the poison from your body.”

“How?” I asked. “Her abilities are still dormant.”

“I don’t know,” Niles said.

“Once they awaken,” Xander said, “it will make Reagan one of the most important assets that Winfyre has, especially if Rotted and SB attacks escalate. She can save lives.”

“And who knows what else?” Fallon enthused and glanced at me. “You’re welcome.”

Jeques made a face. “You know, I just realized I never apologized for my behavior that first day. Granted, I haven’t seen your girl since then…”

“She’s not my…” I put my face in my hands. “Okay, what do we do now, smartasses?”

 

The discussions went on for hours. By noon, I was antsy from the lack of solutions and my worry about Reagan. Thankfully, Deena was going back to Cobalt with messages, and I managed to catch her before she left.

In a low voice, I asked her to stop by my place, tell Reagan to pack. To tell her that she'd be staying with her parents for a few days. I was anticipating that we'd be up here that long, planning and figuring things out, and I didn’t want her alone in the house. Deena looked surprised, but she acquiesced.

“It won’t work,” Tristan said as I came back inside. He’d been lurking inside the door, eavesdropping. “Hate to break it to you.”

“Stay out of it, Tristan,” I growled and stalked back to the table.

As the conversations started again, my head began to ache. Questions kept circling through my mind. Had it been a bluff this morning in regard to their not knowing the name of the Riftborn they were after? Or did they know? Should I send Reagan to a safer place?

And why did this feel like my fault?

“Luke.” Rett nudged me, and I jerked my head up. It was early evening, and I shook myself, not sure how so much time had passed. “Does that sound all right?”

“Does what?” I asked.

Xander sighed and repeated what I’d missed. First, he’d come to the conclusion—which everyone except Rett, Fallon, and I agreed with—that the SB was making empty threats. They wouldn’t attack. The SB had no weapons except the Rotted ones, and those had to be used at close range, plus now we had a sample of the stuff and could train shifters to be wary of it.

Second, he wanted each of us to go home and mull over next steps. I was in charge of finding a teacher to help Reagan. Kal stirred at that.

“You know who would be perfect—” he started to say.

“Not an option,” Xander interrupted.

“If you say so,” Kal said.

“All right, go home and rest, all of you,” Xander said and turned his attention to a sheaf of papers on the table. No one made a move, as we knew he’d probably be up all night, thinking, plotting, and planning. All on his own. “Now. You’re not sleeping over.”

At that, we finally left, shifting and splitting up as we made our way back to Cobalt.

As I dragged myself up the hill to my house, head drooping and exhaustion slamming into me, all I could think of was taking a shower. Washing this day off of me and the stench of the SB out of my nose.

Half-asleep, I shifted back at the front door and made my way upstairs. I didn’t spare Reagan’s room a glance, not ready to tear that wound open just yet.

But when I came back downstairs, more alert and pulsing with nerves, I found myself drawn to her half-open door.

“What the hell?” I muttered as I looked around her room. Instantly, my ears pricked up, and I caught the sound of noises in my office. “You have got to be kiddin’ me.”

Striding across the living room, I jerked open the door, and Reagan jumped. She was sitting at my desk, reports scattered around, and wrapped in one of my hoodies. The doorknob indented from the force of my fingers’ grip. It was everything I wanted and didn’t want in one image.

“Oh, Luke, I didn’t know you were home,” she said, sitting up and blinking at me.

“Did Deena come by?” I asked, not moving and still mangling the doorknob.

Reagan sat back and played with a pen, denting her lower lip with it. “Yes.”

“You…” I took a step forward and clenched my fists. “You need to go home.

“I am home.”

“No, Reagan,” I bit out. “You need to go.”

“Make me.”

Reagan was all quiet venom and hooded eyes.

I couldn’t deal with this. Struggling to draw air into my lungs, I turned and blindly made my way to the back door. The dogs whimpered as they tried to follow, but I went outside by myself.

I hadn’t expected Reagan to be here, and I had no idea why.

Cool air brushed my bare skin, but the grass was warm under my feet. Everything was starlit wonder, with a faint brush of northern lights deep in the northeast. Around us, Winfyre was blooming into its wild greenery. I’d been happy about that yesterday.

Now, I couldn’t even fathom making it through tonight.

“Luke.”

I jumped. Reagan had followed me out here, and I hadn’t even heard her. Half-turning, I saw her coming towards me, brushing back her hair and twisting her hands. Her eyes were luminescent in the uncertain light.

“You’re out of your mind,” I said in a tight voice. “You need to listen to me.”

“I’m not leaving,” Reagan said.

“You should,” I said and turned, moving away from her. “You should do that, and be a lot of other things.”

“Like what?” Reagan challenged.

I thought of all the hell I’d brought into Reagan’s life and the lives of others I’d loved.

“You should be afraid of me.”

“When will you get it through your thick head, Luke Swiftlore? I’m not. I never have been. And I never will be.” Reagan stepped in front of me, eyes blazing and shoulders back. “I’m afraid of one thing, though—I’m afraid of losing you.”