24. Twenty-Four

Twenty-Four

I watched the yard as the occupants began to stir. Some Morgans left their cottages to spar or tend the trampled gardens, clinging to any sense of normalcy they could find. I spotted Max leaving the great hall and waved. She waved back before disappearing amongst the houses. With Elias gone, it seemed Max had stood up to fill his role.

I liked to think of hunters as more like a hive of bees than the predators we saw ourselves as. We never hunted alone, and we were nothing without the hierarchy.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath of fresh morning air. It reminded me of Skye’s magic. I could smell the dewdrops that clung to blades of grass and wet earth. I let my head fall back and enjoyed the warmth of the budding sunshine on my face. It wasn’t as comforting as Cyrus’s aura, but it would have to do for now.

Max had told me to meet my mysterious Morgan volunteer by the gates at daybreak. I wondered who it would be. Maybe my crazy Aunt Lora ... if she was even still alive. She’d always been reckless. She got her motorcycle stuck in a tree on her fortieth birthday when she tried to ride jump a creek.

I just hoped my helper wouldn’t be my first cousin twice removed, a guy the whole compound affectionately called “Creepy Dave.” Having that many things preserved in jars was weird. Even for a hunter.

At the sound of approaching footsteps, I opened my eyes.

“You?” I grimaced. “Why do you want to help?”

Genevieve gave me a bored look and flicked one of her braids over her shoulder. “I need to get out of here. Ren’s been even more stifling than usual with your otherworlders around.”

“Yeah, about that.” I pointed at her. “When did you get a husband? I thought you—”

“It was arranged.” Genevieve rolled her eyes. “Ren’s from the Takahashi family. They’re a strong family. They bolster the Morgan name.”

She sounded like Elias, but more bored.

I raised an eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware we needed any bolstering.”

“We?” Genny scoffed. “After the stunt you pulled? The Morgans were in reputational ruin. People talk, and now everybody knows you didn’t actually die when you left us. You made Elias appear weak and threatened the standing of the family.” She pushed the sleeves of her duster up, revealing lines of hunter marks. “I had to save the day.”

I blew out a breath. “That does sound on-brand for Elias.”

“We all have our duties to fulfill.” Genevieve bit her lip. “Enough about my tragic love life. Max told me reviving the reaper will help us get Elias back.”

She walked past me towards the open garage. Dozens of motorcycles filled the space in neat lines, and the walls displayed enough tools to make any gearhead swoon.

“Don’t you have any questions?” I jogged to catch up. My boots felt heavier than usual.

“I don’t care. As long as we save Elias.”

“Aren’t you hurt?” I looked her up and down, but there was no outward sign of the deep wound I’d seen on her thigh yesterday. Rosco’s stuff really was magic. “This might take a lot of mana. The reaper’s been down there for decades.”

“Don’t worry, cousin.” Genevieve flashed me a wide smile. “I fed.”

“On who?” I shook my head. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”

That explained the healed injury. Hunters healed faster with a fresh injection of mana. It was like chicken soup ... but bloodier. At least Genevieve wouldn’t have needed to drink any blood. If she didn’t want to, at least.

Genevieve grabbed a pair of helmets from the gear shelf and tossed one to me. I tried not to double over as the helmet hit my chest. My hands stung from the force of her throw. Gods, I was weak without my hunter magic.

I eyed the old motorcycles. I hadn’t ridden in months. I’d missed my bike back in Haven.

“What’s wrong, Arsyn Morgan?” Genevieve called. “Forgot how to ride?”

I smirked. “Which one am I beating you on?”

Genevieve slung her leg over her small cruiser and nodded to a vintage Yamaha at the end. “You can take my father’s. Don’t worry, it still runs. I’ve taken care of it since he died.”

I stopped in my tracks. “He died?”

“Yeah. It was a bit after you left.” Genevieve’s eye twitched, but her tone stayed carefully flat. “My dad didn’t have the Morgan blood, but he still went on hunts with my mom.”

“I remember.” I ran my fingers over the roaring lion on the hilt of my dagger. Genevieve’s dad had made most of the compound’s weapons. “He was always so afraid of your mom getting hurt.”

“He was a liability,” Genevieve snapped. “He shouldn’t have been able to go on our hunts. It was his fault. Got my mom killed when she tried to help him.” She twirled a silver braid. “Elias took me in after they died.”

“Lucky you.”

“Wait for me!” Felix hobbled across the yard, waving his hands. “I’m coming with you.”

I crossed my arms and gave him my best Cyrus look. “You limped over here.”

“You saw that, huh?” Felix deflated, like he’d spent all his energy trying to look uninjured.

“You can’t deny me .” Quillon sauntered over from the workshop, his rifle slung over his shoulder. Dual pistols on his belt peeked out from his coat as he walked. “I’m in prime physical condition.”

“He got stabbed, too,” Felix whined.

“A mere flesh wound.” Quillon bowed to me theatrically. “I’m fit to travel, I assure you.” He leaned in to whisper, “And Cyrus insisted you not go alone. He promised great pain if we let you leave this compound without a chaperone.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Fine, but you’re not taking that rifle with us on the bikes. You’re practically asking for us to get pulled over with that thing.”

Quillon pouted but handed the long rifle to Felix. He opened his suit jacket, revealing the pistols on his hips. “Max was generous enough to donate blood to my experiment. My bullets are carved and covered in hunter blood.”

I smiled. “Perfect.”

Hopefully, we wouldn’t have to use them. I pulled on my helmet and grabbed another from the shelf that looked like it would fit Quillon.

He wrinkled his nose. “It’s covered in dust.”

“You’ll live.” I shoved the helmet on his head while he fought me like a toddler. When it was finally secured, I mounted the vintage bike and patted the passenger seat. “Hop on.”

Quillon awkwardly lifted his leg and sat on the seat behind me.

I snorted. I’d never seen the King of Qaanir be anything but graceful. “You’re like a baby deer.”

“Just getting my sea legs, love.” Quillon slid his arms around my waist, slipping them into my duster until his fingers teased the hem of my shirt.

I sucked in a breath and started the engine. The bike rumbled to life beneath me.

Genevieve twisted her throttle and took off towards the open gates. Quillon’s arms tightened around me. I kicked my bike into gear and sprayed gravel as I accelerated to catch up. My body buzzed with energy, like it was anticipating being near Enoch again.

I let a smile lift my lips as the exhilarating wind whipped my braid and swept across my skin.

Enoch was a reaper, a primordial being. He’d returned Ari’s soul to his body before. He was the only one that could help us.

And we were finally about to wake him.

The compound appeared just as we had left it, completely empty. Pressure built in my chest as we neared, pulling me in. My pulse kicked up as my jittery muscles twitched. Apparently, the bloodforged iron did little to dampen the connection I had to Enoch.

We parked at the gate while I wrestled with the urge to drop the bike and sprint to Enoch.

Genevieve hung her helmet on her handlebar. “Took us long enough to get here.”

I pulled off my helmet as I waited for Quillon to shakily dismount.

“We had to be careful, and that means no accidents and certainly no cops.” I winced. Cyrus had been rubbing off on me. But even I had to admit that we couldn’t afford a mistake at this point.

Genevieve scoffed. “Every moment we waste is a moment my Patriarch might be getting tortured or a moment closer to his death.”

The way she said my Patriarch made my blood boil. How could she remain so staunchly loyal? I guessed that was a trait my father looked for in an heir after my mother’s betrayal.

“Elias already chose a replacement,” I mumbled and got off my bike.

Genevieve cut her gaze to me. “Jealous?”

Quillon leaned against my bike, watching us.

I rolled my eyes and pushed the heavy gate open. “Hardly. I’m just glad Elias found a good little pawn that would blindly follow his orders.”

Genevieve charged me. She grabbed my shoulder, wrenching me to face her and the blade she held between us. I froze. Without my abilities or hunter strength, I was no match for her.

I just had to open my mouth.

Quillon’s hands flew to his pistols. “Kindly lower the knife and step away from my wife.” His voice was as honey-toned and cordial as ever.

“When did you get a husband?” Genevieve cocked her head at me, ignoring Quillon. “I admit, I wasn’t sure which of your followers claimed you, since you seem to whore yourself out to all the otherworlders.”

Quillon did pull his pistol this time, but I held up a hand. Genevieve was a bitch, but she was harmless.

Mostly ...

Hopefully ...

“What the hell is your problem?” I asked. “We used to be friends when we were kids.”

“You want to know what my problem is?” She shoved the blade to my chest. I sucked in a breath as the tip drew blood, but I held my ground. “You’re my problem. Even after you disgraced the family, left us in shambles to pick up the pieces, Elias fought beside you.”

My mouth fell open. I looked at Quillon for support. “Elias tried to kill me, like, a month ago!”

“He always put you on a pedestal, and you know it,” Genevieve said with a sneer. “His precious Arsyn could do no wrong.”

“Are we thinking of the same man?” I shook my head. “He locked me in a coffin when I was five to remind me of the stakes of a hunt.”

“Elias loved you. He still does.”

“How can you say that? He killed my mother.” My voice shook as memories flooded me. The three of us giggling by the fire, my mother consoling Genevieve as she struggled to learn the bow. My mother’s kind smile and gentle scolding when Genevieve and I tracked mud all over the great hall.

“I tried as hard as I could. Trained day and night. Married the idiot Elias told me to. Did whatever I could to measure up. But even after everything you did to disgrace the family, I can never compare to you in Elias’s eyes.” Genevieve’s nostrils flared as she twisted the blade’s tip, digging it into my ribcage.

I ignored the sharp pain. It was nothing. A bee’s sting compared to the festering void in my soul. “He’s training you to be the heir.”

“I don’t want to be the heir!” Genevieve snapped, eyes wide. She deflated, letting her arms fall to her side. “I never wanted to be the heir.”

“Then why are you so angry at me ? It sounds like your beef’s with Elias, and that makes two of us. What did I ever do to you?”

“ You have everything I want. Your life, your freedom ...” She hugged herself. “Love.”

“I mean, we haven’t exactly said — ” I scratched my neck as heat climbed my cheeks. “Not all of — ”

“You have men who would kill and die for you.” Genevieve’s chest heaved. “I saw the way they looked at you the day we fought by the lake. It was like they felt your pain when Elias cut you down. I saw the murder in their eyes. The desperation to save you.”

This conversation certainly took an unexpected turn.

“You have Ren. He seems ... nice.”

“He’s a controlling asshole.” Genevieve took a deep, steadying breath. “You have no Patriarch who decides who you will marry, no elders to police you. You make your own decisions.” Genevieve glanced at Quillon. “Granted, not the same decisions I would make …”

“Get to your point.”

“You escaped,” Genny said. Moisture gathered in her silver eyes. “And you left me behind.”

I swayed on my feet. “I ... I ...”

“You were my best friend. My cousin. We’d trained together since we were toddlers. I loved you and you just ... left me.” She turned from me and wiped her eyes. “You weren’t the only one who lost Katlyn that day. And you left me alone with my grief, letting me think you were dead, too.”

My head jerked back. Sebastian had said something similar.

I felt like shit. She’d lost my mother, she’d lost me, then she’d lost her parents. Of course she’d cling to Elias. He was the only one she had left.

I’d hurt a lot of people. It seemed I’d always hurt people.

“I’m sorry.” My shoulders hunched. “I wasn’t thinking about anyone but myself.”

“I don’t want to be a hunter.” Genny clasped a hand over her mouth. “I’ve never said that out loud before.”

I carefully placed a hand on Genny’s shoulder. She gave me a look that seemed to carry the threat of stabbing, so I removed it.

“Sorry … thought we were having a moment.”

I cleared my throat.

“You can leave the Order now. I’m here for you like I should have been then, and I have a feeling nothing will be the same when this is all over.”

“We’ll see.” Genny pinched her lips and stiffly sheathed her blade. Quillon holstered his pistols. It seemed we were going to be civil now that the air had been cleared. “So, where’s this primordial being that needs my mana?”

“He’s in the basement. This way.” I led Genny and Quillon to the great hall and opened the hatch.

Pressure built in my chest. I forced breath into my lungs and descended into the darkness first. Genny came down after me, pulling out an old metal lighter. She ran the dim light over her surroundings and squinted into the darkness. Quillon followed and pulled out one of the daeva flashlight contraptions we’d had at the bottom of the Draqaari ocean. It blazed with a blinding, concentrated beam. I shielded my eyes before he adjusted the light to act more like a lamp, illuminating the damp basement.

Genny crossed the dirt floor, drawn to the messy desk like I’d been the first time I’d come down here. “What’s this?”

“It’s a long story.” I walked to the cage at the far end of the basement, where Enoch’s shriveled form lay, surrounded by his unfastened chains and shackles.

Genny ran her fingers over a crumpled piece of paper. “Then make it short.”

“Fine.” I sighed. “It’s no big deal really, just that our entire existence and the foundation of our Order is a big fat lie.”

Genny cocked her head. “What do you mean?”

“We get our abilities from these beings called reapers, not from angels. I don’t even think angels exist.”

Genny blinked.

“And not only do we get our abilities from the reapers, we murdered humans to draw them out. Our ancestors captured reapers like Enoch and forced them to give us their gifts.”

“They …” Genny’s eyebrows drew together as her gaze became distant. “What?”

All those hours spent praying to the angels, thanking them for their gift. All the hunters that devoted themselves to the angels’ mission.

“Pull it together.” I snapped my fingers in front of her face. “One of those reapers is right here, and he needs a jump start.”

Genny’s gaze landed on Enoch’s still form, still encased in shadow. She grimaced. “Our family did this to him?”

“Not exactly.” I gestured to the cage. “This is the handiwork of the Ardens, but our ancestor, Constance, did the same to another reaper, Benoi. It’s her journal the Ardens followed to do this.”

“Can we move this along?” Quillon remarked. “The humidity down here isn’t doing my hair any favors.”

“Right.” I nodded to Quillon, and he stepped forward, illuminating Enoch in the dim light of his lantern.

Genevieve raised an eyebrow. “You’re sure he’s alive?”

“He’s spoken in my head,” I whispered. Though he was eerily silent now. I ducked into the cage. Genny hesitated in the doorway.

Quillon grinned. “Despite appearances, he’s not a zombie. He won’t bite.”

Genny gave Quillon an uneasy look before she edged toward the narrow doorway. She touched the bars as she passed, sucking in a breath. Her wide silver eyes flew to me. “Bloodforged?”

“Turns out the Ardens were holding a lot of secrets.”

Genny crouched beside me, inspecting the withered reaper in front of us. His sallow skin was crinkled and stretched tight against his bones. Tufts of dull silver hair clung to his scalp.

“Your mother was an Arden,” Genny asked quietly. “Did she know about this?”

“No,” I responded immediately. But wait, she had known about Enoch in the basement. She called him an otherworlder and went to him for healing. I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

Genny watched me and pressed her lips together. She extended her hands toward Enoch. “How do I do this?”

“You have to take off your iron first.”

“What? Why?”

“Bloodforged iron protects us from mana, but it also dampens our abilities.”

Genny unclasped her new bracelet and dropped it in her pocket. “How’d you figure all of this out?”

“I found it out the hard way.” I’d accidentally given Ari my mana when I was on the brink of overload in the basement of the dungeon. It was the first time I’d met the Aegis guardians. Ari knew from that night what I was, but instead of exposing me, he kept my secret.

He’d always tried to protect me, even from myself.

Why hadn’t I listened to him? If I’d gotten a handle on my corruption, would I have charged at Sebastian alone? The fear, the rage had taken over.

“Arsyn?” Quillon said gently.

“I’m here.” I wiped my palms on my pants. “Touch him as if you were going to drain him,” I told Genny.

Genny wrinkled her nose. “Do I have to?”

I leveled a stern look at her.

“Fine.” She leaned forward and poked his sallow cheek. “Ew. He feels like old leather.”

“Now, close your eyes and look inside yourself. You know that empty, dull feeling when you’re depleted? Or that pressurized buzzing when you’ve absorbed too much?”

Genny nodded slowly.

“That’s the mana in your blood. It’s always there. Reach for it and imagine it flowing to your hand.”

Genny was silent. I wished I didn’t have to wear all the iron I did, or I could have seen the mana flow. I just had to trust she was doing it right.

“Is it working?” Quillon asked from behind me.

“I don’t—”

Genny gasped. Her arm twitched, like she was about to pull away, but she held steady. “Something’s happening.”

She flattened her palms on Enoch’s cheeks, cupping his face. Quillon and I watched, speechless, as Enoch’s face transformed. His hair grew and glistened in the lamplight. His cheeks plumped under Genny’s hands. Muscles swelled on his bony frame until he once again filled out his ragged clothes.

“Woah.” Genny’s hands dropped to her lap, and she swayed. “I feel ... tired.”

She lurched to the side. I reached for her, but Enoch’s hand shot out to steady her. He lifted his head. His healthy silvery white hair, the color of the moon, grazed his eyebrows. His eyes opened, bathing the room in white light.

Genny shielded her face, but I embraced the blinding light. I basked in it.

We’d done it. Enoch was awake.