I meet his gaze, seeing his black button eyes fill with concern. I start blabbing everything. “I’ve been getting these dreamscapes about Mom’s past from the angel Verus.”
Walker nods. “Your mother told me.”
“Well, I think my dad may be a ghoul.”
“Have you asked your mother about this?”
“Not yet.” I slump a bit lower. “Maybe I don’t want the answer to that question so much anymore.”
“I understand.” Walker rubs his sideburns thoughtfully. “Perhaps a change of subject is in order. I’ve learned the Scala will perform an iconigration soon.”
“Really?! Will you sneak me in?” Iconigrations are when the Scala transfers souls in a huge group. So cool.
“Of course.” A wisp of a grin rounds his mouth. “And where would you like to go now?” He opens a portal.
I soak in Walker’s warm smile. A knot of emotion forms in my throat. “Thanks again, Walker. For everything.”
“No need for thanks.” Walker sets his hand on my cheek, his touch is warm and grounding. “You’re very important to me, Myla.” He glances at the black portal. “Now where to?”
I check my watch. “Well, school ended an hour ago. Can we go to the Ryder library?”
“Absolutely.” Walker takes my hand in his. Together, we step into the portal. For once, I actually don’t feel ill as we tumble through space. We step out right by the mansion’s front door.
I give Walker’s hand a little squeeze. “See you at the iconigration.”
Walker nods. “Until then.” He steps into the dark portal and disappears.
Chapter Nine
I take a deep breath, walk up to the front door of the Ryder mansion and knock. No answer.
I jiggle the handle. It’s unlocked. I turn the knob and step inside.
“Cissy? Zeke?” I nervously bite my lower lip. I’m totally late after that fiasco at the Arena with Adair. If after all that, I can’t go to the library today, I will definitely need to kill something. Hopefully, not Zeke.
Soft giggles sound from behind the corner to the West Wing.
“Zekie, don’t!” It’s Cissy.
Oh, they’re here alright. Ick.
I stand in the center of the reception hall. “Cissy, I’m going over to the library. Is that okay?”
More giggles.
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’” I walk down the hallway to the East Wing and hike up the stairs. I stop at the second floor.
This is the exact spot I saw in my dreamscape. This is where Mom met up with her family–my family–before she was sworn in as Senator. I stare at the closed door, knots of nervous energy forming down my spine.
Here goes.
I slowly set my fingertips on the knob and twist. It’s open. I step past the threshold and flip on the lights. Inside is an ornate wooden conference room with mahogany tables and chairs. Huge paintings of the Oligarchy hang from the walls.
I frown. None of this looks like it did in my dreamscape.
Another door stands ajar at the back of the room. I walk through it and enter a long, open space dripping in cobwebs. My breath catches. This is the old senate offices, exactly the way they were before the war. My heart starts beating like crazy.
“Hey, Myla.”
I jump a bit and gasp. “Oh, Cissy. I didn’t see you there.”
“Didn’t you hear me calling you on the way over?”
I run my finger along a dusty desktop. “I guess I was a little distracted.” I peep at the empty space behind her. “Where’s Zeke?”
Cissy shrugs. “I told him I’d meet up with him later.” She eyes my fighting suit. “Another Arena match today?”
“Of sorts.”
“You’re going once or twice a month now.” She shakes her head from side to side. “I’m worried about you.”
I open my mouth, ready to tell her everything, then close it just as quickly. “I’m fine, Cissy.”
“You’re always saying that lately.” She steps around the dim space. “What are you doing in here? This is nasty old office space they used before the war. It’s been boarded up for ages.”
“Mom was a Senator in the old Republic. Her team worked in this office.”
Cissy’s tawny eyes open wide. “Wow.” She sets her hand on her rib cage. “How long have you known that?”
“Since I first visited the library. I found a book about it.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I don’t know. It’s private stuff.” Guilt worms its way around my belly. Am I so proud that I can’t tell my best friend I’m part-ghoul?
“You never used to feel that way.” She steps to my side and gently sets her hand on my shoulder. “We’ve gabbed about your Mom’s pre-war ‘mystery history’ since we were kids. Remember that time we made sand castles at Canus Beach? You pretended your Mom fought demons in a tall tower. I said your father was the dragon King.”
My voice cracks when I speak. “Yeah, I remember.” I slowly lower myself into a rickety office chair, setting off a poof of cobwebs and dust. I cover my face with my hands.