Fracture (Book 1) Page 4

  More of Kendyl’s neighbors had gathered outside her apartment. Most were dressed in sweats or shorts with mismatched tops, as though they had been woken up by the disturbance. They grabbed at him, trying to prevent him from leaving. Sirens blared in the distance. Someone had called the police—probably Kendyl’s neighbor. He fought through the crowd, slapping back grasping hands and shoving a few of the more forceful people out of his way.

  Breaking through the last of them, Allyn quickened his step. From the corner of his eye, he saw a man break away from the crowd to follow him. He was about Allyn’s height and build and wasn’t wearing pajamas like the rest. His clothes were dark and blended into the dimly lit surroundings. He called out to Allyn.

  Allyn broke into a run. The man followed. Allyn cut through the parking lot, slipping between cars and dashing into the street. Instead of turning back toward Burnside, the way he’d come, he went the opposite direction into a residential area.

  The man, still following, called out to him again.

  Allyn pushed himself harder, sprinting down the street. The man’s footsteps became more faint. Allyn rounded the corner onto another street. Just a couple blocks removed from Burnside, the street was quiet and lined with fully grown trees and a small patch of grass between the road and the sidewalk.

  Allyn’s breathing became heavy. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d run so far, and he knew he couldn’t keep up the pace. He needed somewhere to hide, and he needed to get there quickly, before the man caught up to him. He chose a dark space in front of a rusty old pickup, where the streetlight had burned out. Crouching with his hands on the oxidized hood, Allyn watched the intersection through the truck’s windshield.

  He heard the man’s footsteps before he saw him. He ran into the middle of the four-way intersection and stopped, whipping his head back and forth, checking all directions. He raked his fingers through his hair then planted them on his hips.

  He looked in Allyn’s direction. Allyn knew the man couldn’t see him, but he crouched farther down anyway. “Go back,” Allyn whispered. “You lost me. Give up.”

  The man looked in the opposite direction, seemingly deciding between the two.

  “There you go, go that way, you’ll find me over there,” Allyn encouraged softly. But the man turned back to Allyn and started down the street. “Damn.”

  The man walked with a slow, observant pace, hunting. Allyn couldn’t outrun him, and something about the man’s confident walk told Allyn he probably didn’t want to fight him, either. He’d have to wait it out, hope that the man would pass his hiding spot and allow Allyn to double back in the opposite direction.

  Allyn quietly stepped around the hood of the truck to the passenger-side door, watching through the window. The man was nearing him, still walking down the center of the street, his head on a swivel as he scanned both sides of the road. A soft rustling noise came from the other side of the street, and the man jerked his head toward it. The sound stopped as quickly as it came, but the man went to investigate. He walked to the opposite side of the road and circled the white sedan where the noise had originated, checking both sides, in front and behind it, even under it.

  He’s looking for my feet, Allyn realized. They were exposed from the knee down under the frame of the truck. If the man just looked… Allyn backed onto the curb and stepped onto a tree root, leaning forward against the truck as though he were doing an inclined pushup. The metal door creaked under the pressure.

  The man stood up with a start.

  “No, no, no, no, no,” Allyn whispered.

  The man made for the old pickup, quickening his pace. Allyn followed his eyes up to the burnt-out streetlight.

  He knows, Allyn thought, He knows this is a good place to hide. He knows I’m here.

  Throwing all pretense aside, Allyn backed away from the truck, exposing himself. Damp grass softened his footfalls, but the man saw him. Allyn tried to form a story in his head. Why had he run? How would he explain that to this man? How would he explain it to the police? The facts were on his side, and the law would prevail. It would just be a little awkward at first. Allyn’s resolve began to solidify as he built his case in his head.

  “There you are,” the man said. “I thought I’d lost you.” His voice was slow and confident. His dark hair and eyes were a stark contrast to his pale skin. He stepped onto the curb approaching Allyn. “Don’t run. I just want to talk.”

  Allyn backed away slowly. “I didn’t break into that apartment. My sister lives there, and she’s in trouble. I’m trying to find her.”

  “It’s okay,” the man said.

  “No, it’s not. I need to find her.”

  The man took another step toward Allyn. “What if I told you I knew where she was? I promise she’s safe. Come with me and find out.”

  Allyn stopped. This man wasn’t a concerned neighbor or a well-meaning citizen. He was one of them—the same people who’d attacked him. “Stay away from me!”

  “Don’t you want to see your sister?” He stepped closer to Allyn.

  “Help! Please! Anybody!” Allyn shouted.

  “What is wrong with you?” The man eyed the surrounding houses. Their windows remained dark. “I’m offering you a chance to see your sister, see that she’s okay, help her.”

  “Call the police! Please! Anybody!”

  “Don’t. Do. That!” The man leaped forward, his muscles tight, eyes burning.

  Allyn shielded his face with his arms, waiting for the blow to land.

  “No!” someone screamed.

  Allyn was thrown into a nearby yard, landing softly onto wet grass, his elbow slapping against an exposed sprinkler head.

  A dark figure landed on top of him. Chin-length black hair hid her face. She was tall and slender, and her clothing was as dark as her hair. “Come on.” She rolled to her feet and pulled him up. He didn’t have time to ask questions before she pushed him forward. “Go!”

  A bright flash of orange light illuminated the street behind Allyn. Two men, Allyn’s pursuer and Jaxon, were in the center of the street, fifty paces apart. A ball of orange light, alive, wisps of light clawing away from itself, flew through the air toward the stranger.

  No. Not light. Fire.

  The man clasped his hands together and opened them again, an opaque blue liquid filling the space between his hands. Is that water? The fireball hit the wall of water, making a hiss like cold water running onto a hot pan. Then in one fluid motion, the man spun, whipping his arms around, and threw another fireball. It was smaller in diameter and traveled slower, but it burned brighter. The man swung his hands together, clapping them in front of his chest, and the fireball erupted into a wall, six feet tall and twice as wide, that streaked toward Jaxon.

  Jaxon dove behind a parked car, narrowly escaping the inferno. The smoking bottoms of his boots filled the air with the scent of burnt rubber.

  The man turned from Jaxon, his eyes flashing to Allyn.

  “Go!” Jaxon shouted from behind the car. “Leira, go!”

  “Move!” Leira ordered, pushing Allyn away from the melee.

  “What about Jaxon?”

  “He can take care of himself.”

  Allyn disagreed. Jaxon looked outmatched. As he emerged from behind the car, his forearms were scraped and bloodied. But what could Allyn do to help? He couldn’t compete with that display of… He didn’t even know what to call it.

  Leira pulled him away from the fray. Allyn turned to follow, and together, they ran for several blocks before turning down an alleyway. Cars parked in front of fences and backyards lined both sides of the narrow alley. Allyn bent over and put his head between his knees, struggling to catch his breath.

  “We told you that you were in danger,” Leira said. She wasn’t even winded. “We told you they would come a
fter you again. You could have gotten yourself killed!”

  He couldn’t run from it anymore. He couldn’t blame head trauma, an unreliable memory, or some sort of trick. These people weren’t normal. “Who are you?” he asked between breaths. “What are you?”

  Her mouth opened, but nothing came out.

  “I saw…” What did I see? Fire exploding out of a man’s hands? Water? Magic? He rubbed his eyes. “I’m going crazy.”

  “You’re not going crazy.”

  “They have my sister,” he said quietly. The words hung in the air. He couldn’t escape them.

  “Who has your sister?” she asked, suddenly alert. “Lukas?”

  “What does he want with us?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You were following me. You knew they’d come back for me.”

  Leira nodded.

  “You should have followed my sister.”

  “We didn’t know about her.” The words cut deep.

  “Who is Lukas? How do you know him?”

  Leira winced. “He’s… family.”

  “Family?” He wasn’t completely surprised. He had seen dozens of families torn apart by legal litigation. Money was generally the dividing factor. Who deserved what was always in dispute, but he doubted money was the root of this feud. Her story made sense, too. They had to be family. Their abilities would be hereditary, passed down through generations like heart disease or diabetes.

  “We need to get back to the car. This changes everything.”

  Allyn reluctantly agreed. The police couldn’t help, but Graeme and his family might be able to. He just worried about what kind of deal he would have to make with them.

  Jaxon was already waiting for them by the time Allyn and Leira made it back to the car. It was parked in a similar alley a couple blocks away. He was leaning against the black sedan, wrapping his arm in gauze. The reds, oranges, and blacks of his charred flesh screamed painfully even if Jaxon did not.

  Leira strode forward, reaching for Jaxon’s arm. “We should do something about that.”

  “It’s fine.” Jaxon pulled away.

  Leira recoiled. She obviously wasn’t used to being rebuffed. “Where’s Reyland?”

  “Gone.”

  “You killed him?” Allyn asked. He couldn’t believe how nonchalant Jaxon was about it.

  Jaxon finished wrapping his arm and tossed the roll of gauze into the car. “He got away.”

  Leira stiffened and scanned their surroundings uneasily. She had seemed almost relieved by the idea that the man was dead. But now she was on the alert again. “We should go.”

  “One minute,” Jaxon said, pulling away from the car and stepping toward Allyn.

  Leira grabbed Jaxon’s good arm, stopping him. “It’s taken care of.”

  “I need to know he understands what happened tonight.” He turned to Allyn, ready to say more.

  “Lukas has his sister,” Leira said.

  Jaxon turned to Leira. “Sister?”

  “He’s not the only one in the dark.”

  “No, he’s not.” Jaxon rubbed the back of his head irritably. “Get in.”

  Leira nodded, and Allyn climbed into the back of the car. The black-leather interior was accented with wood-grained panels in the armrests and center console and was as large as it was comfortable. It was the kind of car an old man drove, the kind of car that wouldn’t stand out.

  Red and blue flashing lights bathed the parking lot of Kendyl’s apartment complex as they rode by. What had probably started out as a single police officer responding to a domestic disturbance had grown into a possible robbery and missing persons case. Multiple police officers were on scene, and the local news stations would arrive soon, too, if they weren’t there already.

  Some of the neighbors had gone back inside, while others had been pulled aside to give statements to police officers. One of them was Rebecca, Kendyl’s neighbor. Allyn wondered how soon he would receive a call from the police. He may not be a suspect, but he would certainly be a person of interest.

  The lights vanished behind them as Jaxon turned onto Burnside. A mile down the road, he merged onto the interstate and drove toward the west hills overlooking the city. Driving toward help. Headed toward answers.

  Chapter 4

  Graeme’s phone vibrated. He hated the thing, or more specifically, he hated his dependence on it. Technology was the greatest scam of the modern era. It had killed his ancestors and sent the rest into hiding. And tonight it brought another end.

  The message used a predetermined cypher, but its meaning was clear: Allyn was safe and was returning with Jaxon and Leira. Why does even good news have to be peppered with bad these days? Allyn was coming. He was out of Lukas’s reach, but he was coming here.

  The quiet night was a welcome retreat. It left Graeme alone with his thoughts as he wandered the forest that surrounded the manor. Oh, Graeme supposed it wasn’t quiet in the traditional sense; it was alive with the sounds of crickets and owls and the soft trickle of water coming from the creek at the bottom of the shallow valley to the north, but it was probably the last quiet night he would enjoy for a long time. Jaxon, Leira, and Allyn had brought something else with them. Something unavoidable. Change.

  For the first time since the Fracture, a person from outside the Families was entering their realm. A silent man was entering their world. And he was coming to the manor. It was unprecedented. It was dangerous. It was exactly what Lukas wanted. Even in this victory, there was defeat.

  We can’t keep going on like this, Graeme thought. The world was a large place, but when the silent men began to look again, Graeme and his family would quickly run out of places to hide. They couldn’t let that happen. Lukas had to be stopped, and the first step to doing that was discovering what Lukas wanted with Allyn. Graeme had his ideas, but they were little more than guesses, nothing he could go to the Families with or use to build a Grand Coalition.

  Leira said Allyn had volunteered his help. That was important. It meant he would be cooperative, but Allyn would have his own questions, too. He’d seen Jaxon in action, he’d felt Nyla’s touch, and he would want answers of his own. So what do I tell him?

  Graeme couldn’t tell him everything. That much was clear. It was as reckless as it was impossible. How could he compress thousands of years of history into a single conversation? It couldn’t be done. He would have to give him the basics as a foundation to build on. But what were the basics? It would be easier if he were a child. Children are naturally curious. They ask questions and shape their own lessons. Could he expect Allyn to do the same? Maybe. Allyn had a thirst for knowledge, which was a necessity in his profession. Allyn would ask questions. Graeme didn’t need to worry about what to say; he needed to worry about what not to say. Everyone was entitled to their own secrets.

  They arrived an hour later. Graeme waited outside the manor at the bottom of the main outdoor staircase, where the concrete stairs behind him rose to the manor’s double-door entrance. He waited alone. Too many people would be a show of force, which would intimidate Allyn, put him on edge, and make him less likely to answer Graeme’s questions. A single man was a show of respect.

  The car circled the stone fountain and came to a stop facing the direction it had entered. Graeme couldn’t see inside the tinted windows. The door opened, and Allyn stepped out. This was the man Graeme expected to change the magical world. Or end it.

  Graeme had aged since the last time Allyn had seen him. His face, clean-shaven before, was covered with the beginnings of a white-and-black-peppered beard. The creases in the corners of his eyes seemed deeper and were bracketed by dark circles. Standing with a slight hunch, he looked how Allyn felt—exhausted.

  The manor grounds were enormous, spanning acres. The manor itself—a stone fortress two stories hig
h—looked like something out of a seventeenth-century European countryside. It sat atop a slight hill with cultivated green grass stretching out in every direction around it, disappearing into forest. They had passed through a ten-foot-tall iron security gate half a mile back, and it was obscured by tall, centuries-old evergreens.

  Graeme stood silently with his hands clasped behind his back, looking like the embodiment of the manor—secure and imposing—not the type of man Allyn should aggravate. Allyn would have to be patient, let Graeme lead the conversation, and then try to massage it in the direction he wanted it to go.

  Graeme’s eyes opened wide when Jaxon stepped out of the car. “You’re hurt.”

  “It’s nothing,” Jaxon said. “Barely tingles.”

  “That’s because there’s extensive nerve damage.” Graeme gently took Jaxon’s arm in his hands and scowled at Leira. “Why wasn’t this treated?”

  “We didn’t have time,” Jaxon said, cutting in before Leira could speak. She didn’t look grateful for his defense. “Reyland was waiting.”

  Graeme’s eyes darted to Allyn. The piercing gaze made him uncomfortable.

  “Get that treated,” Graeme said. “It needs to be addressed before the nerves die. It’ll scar, but that’s a good thing—it’ll pose as a reminder that you need to be more careful.”

  Jaxon’s face became hard, his eyes narrowing slightly. “It was luck. A trick. An inferno mine—”

  “Which is only dangerous when you’re not paying attention,” Graeme said. “You were reckless. Get that arm fixed.”