Gaian wasn’t a soldier in a war against daemon-kind. They were simple outcasts looking for a place to belong, and that was something she could support wholeheartedly.
She was no closer to making a decision now than in the meeting yesterday. There was no way she could decide by tomorrow. She needed more information. She needed to know more about their plans, how she would be involved, and what other plots they had up their sleeves. Would she be expected to participate in the destruction of the remaining Consulates? Could she really help them bring down the organization she’d dedicated her life to? That was assuming it was possible to shift their methods away from the careless violence they’d so far exhibited. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to do that. A large part of her just wanted to get the hell out and never see another Gaian again.
She closed her eyes, a headache building in her forehead. Whether she was even remotely interested in joining them was very much a secondary question to the one that had taken root in her brain and grown into a voracious monster overnight.
Magic.
Her magic.
Dared she risk her life to regain her magic? Not just any magic, but magic more powerful than any other haemon’s. Magic to rival daemons. It could kill her, or it could make all her dreams possible. If only she had more information. If she knew for certain that controlling her magic was a matter of willpower, she would go for it. But what if there was no way to control the outcome? What if it was predetermined? That her magic would kill her, no matter what. No way to fight. No way to survive.
She hated being helpless. Could she make herself helpless to her own magic?
She’d experienced powerful magic before; the Sahar had given her more magic than she could control. She’d seen what it could do. Mainly, it killed. Easily. And in large numbers. It terrified her.
Unlike the Sahar, her magic wouldn’t be tainted with hatred, and she would be using it to defend, not attack. Assuming it didn’t kill her. The questions and options spun, pulling all her thoughts into a whirlwind that made her head ache. She pressed a hand to her forehead as the feeling of being trapped closed in around her.
She needed air. She needed to breathe.
She needed to escape.
Eyes opening, she casually scanned the room. It was time to find out how tight the security around here was. She could make decisions later. Right now, she wanted her freedom above all else.
She stretched and yawned. “Hey Kylee, where’s your room? I don’t think I’ve seen that level yet.”
Kylee looked up, smiling. “It’s on the eighth floor. Want a tour?”
“Sure.”
They rose off the sofa and climbed over the legs of the other lounging haemons. She and Kylee strolled across the room and into the hallway. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched two older haemons nonchalantly follow—her ever-present shadows. One was that creepy, pale-haired guy again.
At the end of the hall, Kylee prodded the call button for the elevator. The two guards drifted closer, supposedly in deep conversation. Piper didn’t know why they bothered pretending. The doors dinged and rattled open. She and Kylee got on. The two guards started forward quickly.
As they reached the doors, Piper said, “Oh, I forgot something,” and stepped into the elevator’s threshold as though she were getting off. The guards backed up so she could exit. She stepped out.
The doors rattled into motion. At the last second, Piper hopped backward into the elevator and waved as the doors shut. One merely looked startled, but chagrin flashed across the face of the creepy one.
Kylee blinked at her. “What was that all about?”
“Oh, just ... you know, admirers, I guess. They’ve been following me around.”
With a smile, Kylee poked at the already lit Floor 8 button. “People seem to like you a lot.”
Piper shrugged, her mind racing through Step 2 of her plan. Or to be more precise, racing to
She was no closer to making a decision now than in the meeting yesterday. There was no way she could decide by tomorrow. She needed more information. She needed to know more about their plans, how she would be involved, and what other plots they had up their sleeves. Would she be expected to participate in the destruction of the remaining Consulates? Could she really help them bring down the organization she’d dedicated her life to? That was assuming it was possible to shift their methods away from the careless violence they’d so far exhibited. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to do that. A large part of her just wanted to get the hell out and never see another Gaian again.
She closed her eyes, a headache building in her forehead. Whether she was even remotely interested in joining them was very much a secondary question to the one that had taken root in her brain and grown into a voracious monster overnight.
Magic.
Her magic.
Dared she risk her life to regain her magic? Not just any magic, but magic more powerful than any other haemon’s. Magic to rival daemons. It could kill her, or it could make all her dreams possible. If only she had more information. If she knew for certain that controlling her magic was a matter of willpower, she would go for it. But what if there was no way to control the outcome? What if it was predetermined? That her magic would kill her, no matter what. No way to fight. No way to survive.
She hated being helpless. Could she make herself helpless to her own magic?
She’d experienced powerful magic before; the Sahar had given her more magic than she could control. She’d seen what it could do. Mainly, it killed. Easily. And in large numbers. It terrified her.
Unlike the Sahar, her magic wouldn’t be tainted with hatred, and she would be using it to defend, not attack. Assuming it didn’t kill her. The questions and options spun, pulling all her thoughts into a whirlwind that made her head ache. She pressed a hand to her forehead as the feeling of being trapped closed in around her.
She needed air. She needed to breathe.
She needed to escape.
Eyes opening, she casually scanned the room. It was time to find out how tight the security around here was. She could make decisions later. Right now, she wanted her freedom above all else.
She stretched and yawned. “Hey Kylee, where’s your room? I don’t think I’ve seen that level yet.”
Kylee looked up, smiling. “It’s on the eighth floor. Want a tour?”
“Sure.”
They rose off the sofa and climbed over the legs of the other lounging haemons. She and Kylee strolled across the room and into the hallway. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched two older haemons nonchalantly follow—her ever-present shadows. One was that creepy, pale-haired guy again.
At the end of the hall, Kylee prodded the call button for the elevator. The two guards drifted closer, supposedly in deep conversation. Piper didn’t know why they bothered pretending. The doors dinged and rattled open. She and Kylee got on. The two guards started forward quickly.
As they reached the doors, Piper said, “Oh, I forgot something,” and stepped into the elevator’s threshold as though she were getting off. The guards backed up so she could exit. She stepped out.
The doors rattled into motion. At the last second, Piper hopped backward into the elevator and waved as the doors shut. One merely looked startled, but chagrin flashed across the face of the creepy one.
Kylee blinked at her. “What was that all about?”
“Oh, just ... you know, admirers, I guess. They’ve been following me around.”
With a smile, Kylee poked at the already lit Floor 8 button. “People seem to like you a lot.”
Piper shrugged, her mind racing through Step 2 of her plan. Or to be more precise, racing to
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