Brianna nodded solemnly. “We’ll need everyone.”
Aern had been moving toward them, finally laying a hand on Brianna’s arm, eyes going from her to Logan when he said, “Stay safe.”
“We’ll come back,” Logan answered. His arm went around Brianna’s waist. “And this time, we’ll have Brendan.”
Chapter Thirteen
Shadows
“The Samuels boy is dead,” Callan said. “I’ve wiped his memories and left him in a pool of his own blood.” It wasn’t a lie, exactly. Even if his heart did still beat, everything that had made him Brendan was gone.
“And what of the girl?” the shadow asked. “All of your resources and you’re still no closer to finding out what she’s hiding?” He shook his head.
“If you were to allow me to move now…” Callan offered, but the look on the older shadow’s face cut him short. It was not anger, not annoyance; this warning was more dangerous, because all expression, all interest fell from his face. There was nothing left but darkness. Callan glanced down, an apology, or at least an act of submission, before returning his gaze to the shadow. “The prophets have been unable to call it into view. Perhaps if we bring in someone from their current Council, someone close to the Archer boy—”
“He is no boy,” the shadow said. “You have seen what his kind is capable of.”
Callan paced his breathing, forced the tightness in his jaw to relax. He’d been close to Brianna, near enough to touch, but he still had to play their games. “Your suggestion?”
His tone irritated the shadow, and Callan felt the skin of his arms prickle, sensed the change in the air, a gathering of power. The shadow stood, facing Callan at his full height, and said, “I suggest”—he let the words linger, the sensations permeate Callan’s skin, invade something deeper within in him, before finishing—“you find her secret.”
Callan dipped his head in a nod, struggling to stay still. It was too much power, too overwhelming to endure. This man, the shadow, could crush his chest from the inside, with no more than a breath. And there was nothing he could do to stop it.
“Go,” the shadow said. “Next time, bring me something of import.”
Chapter Fourteen
Brianna
“Do you realize how much planning went into this?” Brianna glanced at Aern, he and Emily standing in uneasy postures across the table from where she sat with Logan. “He would have had to think this through for who knows how long, deciding, without question, that anyone but me coming to find Brendan would result in their death. Simply so he could push that other vision, that false lead to get me alone.” She dragged a hand across the polished mahogany tabletop, turning her palm up when it neared the edge. “Why? Just so he could tell me it was them, that they were the ones who bound us?”
It didn’t make sense. None of it was playing out the way it should have. If that man—the one her nightmares were warning her of—was looking out for her, then why did her very instincts scream run?
“Bri,” Emily said. “What happened?” She would know it wasn’t merely the sight of Brendan’s mangled body that had her sister shaken. Brianna had lived her whole life with visions just as deadly, images of people closer to her than Brendan, torn and mangled, and it wasn’t a small thing to make her tremble like this.
Brianna swallowed the lump in her throat, forcing her gaze to meet her sister’s. “It’s like I can feel it,” she said. “Like he wants me to know this was a gift.” Logan slid his hand into Brianna’s under the table, fingers lacing tightly with hers. The words made her stomach turn. “Like giving me Brendan means I owe him.” She closed her eyes for a long, horrible moment. “And I’ve seen what Brendan is now, seen what’s left of him.”
Aern and Emily stared, uncertain, but Brianna couldn’t go on. Logan explained, “Apparently, this shadow has a talent for more than just sway. What Brianna sees is that when Brendan wakes up, everything we’ve known of him will be gone. He will be like a shell.”
Emily rocked back. “How is that even possible?”
Aern sighed, shaking his head. “It can be done. I don’t know if any of the Seven could have achieved something so complete aside from Morgan, but even before, both of us could erase small bits of memory here and there. Make someone forget a face, lose a few seconds in time.”
Emily looked at him. “Can you get it back? Is there some way to reverse it, like you did with Morgan’s men?” But that wasn’t how it had worked with Morgan’s men. Aern had had to replace their direction with a new one; to supersede their orders.