Page 12 of Morning's Light

After minutes of convincing and hard-boiled pleading, the man handed over a cell phone and helped her dial the number when her fingers refused to cooperate. He stared at her while the dial tone sounded, each ring fraying her nerves to the point of no return.

Finally, a lethargic female voice answered the call. “Hello?”

“Oh, thank God!” Aisanna sobbed out. “I need your help.”

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Instantly, sleep left Astix Cavaldi at the panic she heard in her sister’s voice. “Aisanna? Did something happen?”

Get a hold of yourself, Aisanna demanded. She turned her back to the clerk and his eavesdropping ears, speaking low. “I need you to come get me.” She held her hand cupping the phone and dropped her voice. “I, uh, can’t go home right now.”

“Where are you?”

She made out the sounds of shuffling before a second person spoke from the background. Leo Voltaire, her sister’s soon-to-be-fiancé, took the phone. “Aisanna, what’s this about?” he rasped. “It’s three-thirty in the morning. This better be an emergency.” The threat was short the necessary gumption, worry in its place instead.

“I need you to come and pick me up. I left my car at work and I can’t go back to my apartment. I can’t.”

“Is there someone in your house? I have people who can be there in a matter of minutes, just say the word.”

Aisanna sighed harshly and slapped a hand on her leg. She didn’t need Leo sending any of his Claddium coworkers-slash-goons to her house. Not when she trusted them as far as she could throw a bull by the tail.

“Just come!” She rattled off the name of the convenience store and clicked the button to disconnect, though it lacked the satisfaction of a slammed receiver. Then she turned to the clerk, who peered at her scraped and bloodied feet. “My brother-in-law,” she told him with a glare.

The Claddium, she thought darkly. The collective that governed magic users great and small. Leo was all right, considering he worked for the bastards who were keeping her brother locked in the Vault, a prison even the most magical adept couldn’t escape.

There was no way she wanted any of them interfering in her business. Whatever was happening—whatever Darkness wanted with her—she’d solve it without any bastards. Period.

An entity of pure evil lacking a form, Darkness manipulated people and pulled strings like a puppet master. It wanted a host, a willing body to take over as keeper of the balance. It had once chosen her sister Astix. Now, it seemed, its sights were set on a different sister entirely.

Astix and Leo were the closest to her, and Aisanna knew they would come if she asked. There was no way she’d call Elon. He would jump at the chance to offer her assistance, but it would put thoughts in his head that could take her weeks if not months to dispel.

Fifteen minutes later, a black Lincoln pulled to the curb with enough pomp and circumstance to have Aisanna expecting the president. A blond-haired man popped his head out of the passenger side window to frown at her.

She speedily thanked the shop owner and went outside. Hunching against the weather, she hurried, the wind smacking at her with a gust of cold that brought tears.

“You let my sister drive?” she said to Leo in lieu of a greeting.

He scowled. “I’m not a morning person. She understands. She’s a better driver, anyway.”

The back door clicked open and Aisanna slid along the heated leather seats. She snuggled against them with a groan. “Thanks again for coming to get me.”

Astix spared a glance over her shoulder before pulling onto the street. “You have a lot of explaining to do, missy. I hope you understand you’re not getting off the hook until I have answers.”

“Later,” Aisanna promised. She let her head sag, finally relaxing. Her bare feet she pulled under her until feeling returned. “Later.”

As soon as they reached the house, Aisanna dosed herself with a valerian tincture she prepared by using her magic, conjuring roots and leaves in a mixture sure to induce sleep. The very ritual of it helped to soothe her nerves. It was instinctual: a combination she’d made since developing night terrors as a teenager. There were no surprises when it came to her earth magic. It was tried and true. Before falling asleep to make the most of the few scant hours left before the sun rose, she lay in the relative safety of the guest bedroom, nursing her blisters and strained muscles, and wondering how the hell she was getting out of this.

**

In the morning, she woke up late with no idea where she was and no recollection of getting there. Unfamiliar sheets tangled around her legs and she shot upright, nearly knocking the upholstered linen headboard askew. Her heart raced, beating against the cage of her chest until she willed it to slow. She was secure, sheltered, out of harm’s way. For the moment.

With bright sunlight streaming in through bare windows, her hallucinations seemed silly, the product of an overactive imagination and fatigue from the day before. Aisanna sank back and pushed lank strands of hair from her face. Her fingertips traveled from the line of her scalp down to below her chin. Sparing a glance at her feet, she hissed and drove them beneath the blankets. Certainly not her best idea, to run off barefoot. Panic did strange things to a person. It wasn’t her proudest moment.

She sighed and rolled over.

The eclipse was more than a month away. Darkness was out there, and they still hadn’t been able to find a way to stop her or free their brother Zenon from the Vault.

Tension hung on Aisanna’s shoulders. She was the oldest. It was up to her to figure things out and get a handle on the problem. She was doing a piss poor job of it so far.

She finally got out of bed and grabbed her dirty clothes, squelching down her disgust. The rumpled knit top and corduroy pants hid the wear well but she needed a shower. She made her way down the hall and into the living area feeling like something a cat had puked up.

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