Shifting Fate Read online

  And then he smiled, clearly only taking the “I like you” from our conversation, before walking out the door.

  I stared at it for several minutes, open as it was, before finally falling onto the couch and throwing an arm over my eyes.

  I had bigger problems, I knew, so I started populating a list in my head for when Aern arrived. I would do everything I could to resolve our issue. I had a lot of work to do before I could figure out where to start.

  “Brianna,” Aern said from somewhere beyond my feet.

  I dropped the arm from my eyes, surprised to see him standing near the end of the couch. His face was tight, which I assumed was displeasure at Brendan leaving me alone.

  I opened my mouth to speak, but my gaze fell on the other man in the room.

  “This is Logan,” Aern explained. “He’s going to be staying with you until …” Somewhere in the back of my mind, Aern’s words were slowly filtering through, but I couldn’t register their meaning. I couldn’t even manage to form a thought. I couldn’t do anything except stare at the chiseled features of the man six feet away from me.

  My chest tightened past the point of breathing, but my heart pounded against it nonetheless. It was him. I stared at the sandy blond hair, sun-kissed complexion, and deep whiskey eyes. I had seen them a hundred times; I would know them anywhere. It was him. Not in a vision, but here, in my room, in flesh and blood. Him.

  “Brianna,” Aern said anxiously, and I tore my gaze, my very focus, away from its target to look at him.

  Concern was plain on his face, and I abruptly returned to myself.

  “Did you hear me?” he asked.

  I shook my head, took a breath. Oh God, was my mouth still hanging open? I cleared my throat. “Sorry. What?”

  His gaze narrowed, but he kept talking. “This is Logan. He’s going to stay with you.”

  Logan. Logan. I finally had a name. My eyes were back on his now, I should be saying something.

  Suddenly, Aern’s words sank in and I was standing. “He’s going to be watching me?”

  “If that’s all right with you,” Aern explained. He glanced at the man, Logan, and shrugged his shoulder when he saw the one raised brow. Aern looked back at me. “He’s the only one I trust, Brianna.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, no, it’s fine.” Fine? They were staring at me. I wanted to start all over. More than anything, I wanted another try. Or to hyperventilate. That would work, too.

  “Have you been eating?” Aern asked.

  The question threw me. And then my gaze betrayed me, flicking quickly toward the covered dishes on the side table.

  Aern sighed. “Brianna, you can’t do this.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but it didn’t matter that I wasn’t doing it on purpose.

  He pointed at a chair and said, “Sit.” I did as he asked, trying my best not to gawk at the other man in the room. The Logan. A short, breathless laugh escaped and Aern stopped what he was doing to glance at me. I smiled, hoping it didn’t appear as manic as it felt, and he returned to setting the table with my lunch, only shaking his head a little at my erratic behavior.

  I watched them as they swept the room, discussing the existing and possible security measures. Aern’s arms were crossed, his gaze frequently coming back to meet mine, but I couldn’t look away.

  I picked at the sandwich—prosciutto, oil, and cheese, now lukewarm—but I could barely taste it. He was roughly Aern’s height, but stouter. Or maybe he only seemed so in his dark, military style cargo pants and black T-shirt. There was a nylon belt crossing his waist, and it struck me where I’d seen a similar outfit. I struggled against the bite I’d taken, throat suddenly thick.

  I’d forgotten about my attacker. I’d forgotten why this man was here.

  To protect me.

  I stared at him anew. He might have been the man from my visions, but he was a stranger. I knew nothing about him, and he … well, he would be even less acquainted with me.

  The two men gripped each other’s forearms, and my stomach clenched. There was some unspoken message there, some entreaty, some promise, and then it was gone, their connection broken as they turned back to the room.

  Logan stepped into the hall to speak with the guards, and Aern sat in the chair opposite me. “Are you well, Brianna?”

  “Yes,” I said automatically. He watched me for a moment to be certain I wouldn’t change my answer.

  “All right, then.” He stood, placing a hand on my shoulder and looking down at me. “You know how to reach me.”

  I smiled. “I have your number.”

  The corner of his mouth turned up and he patted my back on his way past. When he reached the door, he called over his shoulder, “Get some rest, Brianna.”

  I turned, smiling, and caught Logan coming back into the room.

  The intimacy of the smile meant for Aern suddenly felt awkward now, aimed at the familiar stranger, and it faltered, leaving an uncomfortable pause between me and this man who would be my babysitter. This Logan.

  I cleared my throat, pointed toward the bedroom. “I’m going to lie down.”

  He nodded, but said nothing until I’d crossed the room and my hand touched the brass lever.

  “Brianna.”

  He spoke to my back, but the sound of my name sounded different somehow; weightier, sweeter, more right, in his voice. I didn’t turn around.

  “I’d rather you left the door open, if that’s all right with you.”

  My fingers slipped off the lever and I glanced back, only briefly, as I walked into the darkness of my room.

  Chapter Three

  Concealed

  I hadn’t slept at all. I had tried; counted sheep, backwards in Russian, muffled footsteps in the hall. Even my teeth. But all I could do was think of Logan. Of the prophecy. Of the man who’d nearly carted me out the window.

  Logan hadn’t slept either, I decided, because though I’d never heard him, I’d seen his shadow pass the open door throughout the night. I’d seen him stop, staring at my still form, and I’d held my breath.

  When I’d finally given up on rest, it was before dawn. I walked barefoot across the carpet into the sitting room—opulent in deep shades of blue and creamy white—and saw Logan standing in front of the sofa, arms crossed as he studied the painting. He didn’t turn as I approached, and my eyes traced every line of his form, lingering on strong arms, broad shoulders, and other bits here and there. I stopped beside him, gaze trained on the painting, though I could see, almost imperceptibly, the corner of his mouth twitch.

  After a moment, he glanced at me. “What do you think?”

  Automatically, my head tilted sideways as I considered the painting. “I like it,” I said. “Very much.”

  He smiled then, only slightly, and I got the feeling he’d found my answer amusing. I couldn’t understand why.

  “So,” he said, “breakfast?”

  “Oh,” I glanced down at my cotton sleep pants, “I should get dressed.”

  Logan touched my arm as I moved to go, and I stared up at him, immediately immobilized. “I’ll have them send something up.”

  My heart was thundering in my chest, but I managed to nod numbly. His hand fell away and I quickly turned back to the painting, disturbed at how unprepared I was for his casual touch. Pull yourself together, Brianna.

  He crossed the room to call downstairs, and the movement caught my eye in the reflection of a small, mirrored frame on the tabletop below the artwork. A sharp intake of breath, and then I was wincing as I moved a few paces sideways to stand where he’d been positioned when I walked in. I stared into the mirror to find Logan, ten feet behind me, smiling. Right about where I’d checked out his assets.

  I closed my eyes for a long, horrible moment, and then put my shoulders back and walked to my room.

  When I returned—teeth brushed, hair smoothed back into a ponytail, and fully dressed—Logan was uncovering our breakfast dishes at the table.

  He took note of my jeans and
boots, but I didn’t explain my logic. I didn’t want to think of the previous day, of that slip-on tumbling gracelessly down from the second story. I would just be prepared.

  I sat, draping the napkin over my lap as Logan joined me, and stared at the bowl of cereal in front of me. It was the first time I’d been served anything other than epicurean cuisine and I glanced at Logan’s plate of eggs, bacon, sausage, and toast. He raised a brow, then reached over to exchange the dishes, sliding my bowl with one hand and his plate with the other.

  I stopped him. “No, I just,” I glanced over my shoulder at the closed door, “I didn’t know they had regular food here.”

  He grinned. “Next time, talk to Ellin.”

  “Good to know,” I mused.

  “So, I’d like to go to the Council archives today,” I started, hoping I wasn’t under some kind of house arrest since the attack. When he didn’t argue, I continued, “There are a few things I need to research, and I’m guessing that’s the best place to start.”

  I’d completely forgotten to discuss it with Aern, of course, because he’d shown up with this … Logan. I shook my head absently. “It will probably take me a few days, but I didn’t know if the security updates were finished yet.”

  Logan sat his napkin on his plate. “They’re not. And it’s not the best place for you to stay right now, but I don’t see the harm in going for an unscheduled visit or two.”

  I silently breathed a sigh of relief, grateful my protection was not going to be an outright prison. The door opened behind me, and Logan leaned forward.

  “Now would be a good time for me to make those arrangements.”

  I turned to find Emily, smiling fondly as she passed him on her way to the table, and decided she looked right among these guards. She might have been my twin, but we were seldom mistaken for one another. While I’d been tutored in language and subterfuge, she’d been training eight hours a day, learning hand to hand combat, weaponry, and who knew what else at the hands of my mother and her instructors. Between that and the toll the magic had taken on me, our mannerisms, our very bearings, were entirely distinct. And her hair curled more, which I could never understand.

  Emily grinned at my cocked-head as I watched her. “What?”

  “Nothing.” I smiled. “You just look happy.”

  She shrugged. “I know things aren’t perfect, but they’re better. We’re better.”

  She was right about that. Since our mother had died, we’d all but been torn apart, shuffled through the system by some preset arrangements in place from long before her death. I didn’t know how she did it, how many people were involved, but I knew it couldn’t have been easy. And I hoped she’d taught me enough to be able to perform at least some of those deceptions on my own. The last vision I’d had of her came suddenly back, and I returned my spoon to the table. She had died because of Morgan. She had died to save us.

  “Bri?” Emily said, moving to stand.

  I shook off the image, coming back to the conversation.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Nothing, nothing new.”

  Emily understood, if not in practice, at least in theory. I didn’t think she would ever truly comprehend what it was like to see our mother take her own life over and over, when nothing could be done to stop it. Although the visions were gone, the memory of them were not. They were there to be replayed as often as my wandering mind would let them.

  So I stopped it, focusing on my sister instead. “It’s six o’clock, what are you doing here so early?”

  She smirked. “Like you’d be sleeping. Aern and I have some business, so I wanted to let you know I’d not be back until this evening.”

  “No problem,” I said. “I don’t know what to do anyway.”

  “You’ll figure it out, Bri. You’ll get it and everything will be fine.”

  I narrowed my gaze on her, knowing it wasn’t that simple. Neither of us knew what her talent would be, but there was some great power hidden within her that would allow us to help Aern prevent war, to fulfill the prophecy completely. She couldn’t pretend she wasn’t concerned.

  She leaned forward, determined to change the subject, and whispered, “What do you think of Logan?”

  My cheeks flushed, but embarrassment was immediately replaced by guilt. I had promised Emily no more secrets, and I wanted to mean it. But she didn’t know about the man in my visions. The man who was Logan.

  “Fine,” she said. “Don’t tell me.” She stood, tugging my ponytail on her way by, and added, “See you tonight.”

  Logan reappeared, jacket in hand, and asked, “Ready?”

  I glanced at the clock. “Now?”

  “Probably best,” he said, and I wondered if we were hiding this from Brendan, or possible attackers, or if it had something to do with Aern and Emily leaving as well.

  I stood, prepared to question him, but he thrust the jacket at me. I stared at it.

  “It’s chilly,” he explained, as if that answered everything.

  I slipped my arms into the soft, cotton zip-up, and though I wasn’t exactly short, it dwarfed me. I started to explain that I had hoodies of my own, but then I realized where they were, along with most of my other things … in the room I’d been shuffled out of. The room with the window.

  I shrugged the jacket tighter, pushing up the sleeves and flipping the hood over my hair. Logan’s mouth turned up, and he placed a hand at the small of my back to usher me toward the door.

  The guards that were waiting there were not Brendan’s. They were not even men of the Division as far as I could tell. They didn’t so much as blink at the hand that rested on my back, or the jacket that was clearly not my own.

  They split into groups, two remaining outside my now closed bedroom door, and two more walking the corridor in front of us. When we came to the back stairs, the one with dark hair waited, falling behind us as we made our way down. Logan pressed me forward, gently leading me around the service entrance to a small carport at the rear corner of the house.

  Lining the curb were several new, black SUVs with dark tinted windows and I cringed, feeling suddenly like we were in a cavalcade of foreign dignitaries. But we didn’t get into the massive vehicles, instead walking around the back of them to what was unquestionably the coolest car I’d ever seen.

  I was far from an auto enthusiast, but it was hard not to be impressed. Polished black, some modern blend of muscle and sports car, windows narrow and tinted, it just looked mean. Logan opened the passenger door, and I ducked into a charcoal interior of leather and chrome to stare at a dash full of shiny swank emblems that meant absolutely nothing to me.

  He slid in beside me, and I looked up to see the procession of SUVs pull out of the drive toward the main gate. I glanced at Logan, who’d yet to put the car into gear, and he said, “Seatbelt.”

  I reached for the belt, still watching ahead for the others. Through the trees, I caught a glimpse of two black vehicles that had turned right, and assumed the rest had gone left. When they were out of sight, Logan slipped on a pair of dark sunglasses before glancing at me. “Ready?”

  I nodded, not even a little bit certain now, and the car sped forward, taking a hard right before turning onto the service road. When the large iron gate opened and we turned south, I was pretty sure Logan hadn’t cleared our trip with anyone on the property.

  “Security,” he said, reading my thoughts. He looked over at me as he took another right. “If no one knows where you are, you’ll be harder to find.”

  “Clever,” I murmured, thinking of how mad this was going to make Brendan.

  Logan smiled. “It’s what I do.” There was something mischievous in his tone, and I wondered if he’d know what I was thinking that time as well.

  The drive was long, or rather it seemed long because Logan had avoided the downtown traffic in lieu of a more scenic route. I slid down into the soft leather seats, pulling the warmth of the hoodie up to my cheek as I watched the landscape fly by. The mate
rial was soft and threadbare, the way they only got after years of wear, and it smelled of Logan.

  I reexamined the vision of him, brief as it was, searching for a sign I might have missed when he was less real. That’s what he’d been before, an abstract. And now I was sniffing his coat.

  I straightened, abruptly aware of how alone we were. We’d been together in my room, but it was different somehow, with the guards outside my door. Safer.

  The car turned onto a narrow street, and I began to recognize the area. We were nearly there. Council. I’d not been to the building, not seen it in person, but Brendan had laid out the property in detail only weeks ago. When Morgan was planning attack. My eyes fell to Logan, who seemed completely composed, and it lessened my sudden unease.

  We entered the back of the property, driving slowly up a narrow road, and eventually through a low garage door that left us in what appeared to be the main building. Logan got out, glancing to a small black dome that I was fairly certain held a security camera, before coming around the car. I was unsure how all of this worked, so I stayed where I sat until he opened my door and held out a hand.

  I grasped it, allowing him to pull me from the low bucket seat, and didn’t let go until we were standing at the doorway and Logan had to enter a passcode. The box beeped and flashed red, but did nothing. Logan grimaced, shooting a glare toward the domed camera, and pointed toward the door. A moment later, it slid open, which meant at least someone knew where we were. Three more coded doors, several long hallways, and a set of stairs later, we were standing at a thick metal shutter. Logan pressed his palm to a crystal pad and said, “Black.”

  The shutters pulled back and a door slid open so silently, I felt the need to whisper. “Is that your code word?”