“What did you find out?”
Logan seemed to forget his purpose, as if he’d been lost in some absent thoughts of his own, some worry beyond what should have been paramount to both of them. He straightened, keeping her hand as he moved to sit across from her. “He’d used the name Jackson. We’re fairly certain the shadows planted him, because Morgan didn’t seem to mind that we were questioning him. He didn’t even know the man’s background.”
It wasn't that far of a jump in speculation, because Morgan had every member of his team checked thoroughly. If Morgan didn’t know his background, then he had likely been swayed as such. Pushed by this man to believe him, like the others, the shadows who had been living among the Seven for years without anyone noticing.
“Did anything seem familiar to Aern?” she asked.
Logan shook his head. “It seems this Jackson came on board after our split with council. No one here appears to remember anything about him.” His eyes came back to her. “Except you.”
Except her. Brianna wasn’t just a shadow, she couldn’t be swayed. She couldn’t be forced to forget him. But somehow, this man was throwing visions into her head. And that was a line he shouldn’t have been able to cross.
“Get Aern and Emily,” she said. “It’s time we started preparing for the fight.”
Chapter Six
Aern
Aern stood in front of Brianna, hands clasped with hers as she searched his connections. He could feel Emily behind him from her spot on the edge of the sofa. He didn’t need to look to imagine her, hands twisted as she watched her sister work to restore some long-gone power within him. The bond was changing, becoming stronger—more real every moment—and he could sense her distress. This wasn’t some experiment to work toward a vague prophecy. This was Brianna’s last-chance gamble to save them from a vision she knew was true, a fight that was coming to them. A war they couldn’t escape.
Brianna set another thread into place, connected another link, and her shoulders slumped with the effort. He felt a tug on the bond again, Emily’s worry, and he resisted the urge to look back at her. He didn’t want this. None of them wanted this. But he would do whatever it took to keep her safe. To keep her alive.
“Maybe that’s enough for now,” Emily said from behind him. He could hear the concern in her voice, and he knew Logan had been watching Brianna’s strength wane with about all the restraint he possessed.
Brianna opened her eyes. “Are you tired?”
Aern considered the question, shrugged. “Not like before. I actually just feel”—he flexed his fingers, drew his shoulders back— “stronger.” He should have felt like sleeping for days, the need to heal sending him into a kind of comatose state, but his senses were only slightly dulled. He could see that the work had taken its toll on Brianna, though, so he pulled his hands free of hers.
Logan slid a chair behind her and she took it gratefully, beckoning to Emily at the same time. “Okay, now you.”
Emily stood, moving to Aern’s side. “No, Brianna. You need to rest.”
Her argument was cut short by the buzz of Aern’s pocket. He pulled the device out, confused by the message that flashed over the screen. “I have to—” And then his own words fell off. He was at a loss to explain.
Brianna waved it away. “It’s fine. I can work with Logan until the two of you are free.”
Aern nodded, placing a hand on her shoulder before lacing his fingers into Emily’s to lead her from the room.
When they stepped outside, Wesley was already moving up the corridor to meet them, the color drained from his face. “She’s in the west hall. They’re deciding which surgeries to go ahead with, so you’ve probably only got a minute to talk to her.”
Emily’s fingers tightened in Aern’s. She’d have no idea who they were speaking of, but from the look on Wesley’s face, it would be clear it was someone they knew personally.
Aern didn’t explain; she’d see soon enough. Only the search teams he’d sent out knew that Brendan might still be alive, but no one had suspected they’d saved one of the others.
Six men waited outside her room. Seven more were standing just inside the entrance. He nodded to them briefly as they moved aside, grateful they’d managed to return. And then his eyes found her, and his hand went slack in Emily’s.
There was a prep team working to move her, clearing the blood that was caked along her right side. He crossed the room, vaguely aware of Emily’s intake of breath beside him, the way her free hand came up to cover her mouth.
Aern placed a palm against Ellin’s left cheek, the only spot not marred by cuts or bruising, and she opened her eye. It was a moment before she recognized him, took in her surroundings, and then something changed in her face, a kind of relief, despite the damage that ravaged her.