Page 62 of The Gathering Storm

Chapter Sixteen

Sigrid trained harder than ever after the run in with Will’s mother, spurred by an icy fear flowing through her veins. Every moment not spent at work or with Will was bent to the singular task of defeating Chana Wolfbane in their upcoming match. Anything less was unthinkable.

So Sigrid trained, and she trained some more, both at home and at the gym on the IECS campus. There, she tested her skill against other Daughters seeking the same. So ruthless was she that few of the younger, less experienced Daughters sought her out for a bout.

Rumors spread quickly. The Deathknell tolled for any soul foolish enough to brave facing Sigrid in combat.

Let them talk. Let their words reach the ear of her opponents. Let them fear her wrath.

The day before the exhibition, Sigrid sat in her office studying the results of yet more tests. They were getting close to an answer. She could feel it in her bones. Three Sisters known, two more possible, and dozens of lineages solidified through painstaking genealogical research coupled with the judicious use of science.

Soon, the Bones of the Just would rest in a Sanctuary of the People’s choosing, and they could then destroy their enemy and forever after be free of the shadow of An’s curse.

Blessed be Ki.

A soft tap hit her door, then George poked his head inside, his skin ashen under the untidy mop of his hair. “I have to leave.”

Sigrid set aside the file she was studying and stood. “What’s wrong?”

“My parents.” His hand tightened on the doorknob and if anything, he skin went even paler. “There’s been an accident. My sister called. I need to get home.”

She skirted her desk, then took his cold hands in hers and led him to a chair in front of her desk. “Have you made travel arrangements?”

“Yeah. No.” He shook his head and his eyes squeezed shut. “My sister did. I’m booked on the earliest flight she could find.”

“Would you like me to drive you to the airport?”

“James is. I just…” He shrugged and dropped his head back, eyes open and brimming with unshed tears. “Dad’s in surgery. Internal bleeding. Mom’s got a couple of broken bones. Some idiot ran a stoplight. Dad swerved, but—”

“Shush,” she said gently. “You’ll worry yourself to death thinking about something over which you have no control. I’ll escort you to your apartment and help you pack.”

He huffed out a short laugh and finally looked at her, sniffing through the tears. “Trust a Daughter to cut through to the practical.”

“After centuries of living, one learns that practical is the most efficient course.” She rubbed his hands between her own, warming them. “What time is your flight?”

“Ten tonight.”

“Then we’d best get you to your apartment. You’ll need plenty of time for the drive and airport security. Do you have enough money?”

His eyes widened and a laugh sputtered out of him, morphing into a deep belly laugh.

She arched an eyebrow. “What?”

“You,” he gasped out. Tears trickled down his cheeks and he swiped them away, then inhaled a deep, cleansing breath and grinned at her. “You sound like my mom, asking if I need money.”

“Since I’m a mother, I can hardly take offense for acting like one.”

“I guess not.” He flipped his hands over in hers and held them gently. “Thanks. I guess I needed somebody to talk me down.”

“It’s what I’m here for.” Among other things. “Now, go make sure your computer is shut down in your office and gather up any personal items you need for the journey. I have a phone call to make before escorting you to your apartment.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I do.” And not only out of duty, though she could hardly tell him that. She cupped his baby face in her hands and brushed the last remnants of his tears off his cheeks. “You must have faith, George. All will be as it should.”

He nodded once, then she stepped away from him and watched him hustle out of her office. As soon as he was safely away, she sat down behind her desk and pulled up a private database of contact information for members of the People. A certain young Daughter needed to know what was going on in George’s life. George wouldn’t call his heart’s love. He’d made it clear during his conversation with Sigrid that he intended to honor Andrea’s wishes and leave her alone.

Sigrid had no such qualms.

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