“I mean we had a fight, and he…took off.”
Agitation warred with annoyance in his mother’s chest, all heat and lightning that sparked on David’s skin. “Took off where?” she asked.
He peered through the crack in the door, and Sean’s aunt thrust a phone into his mother’s face. “Here!”
His mother gasped and snatched the phone, zooming in on something. “But you told him it wasn’t safe to leave!”
“Yes.”
“So why would he leave?”
A burst of the aunt’s irritation speared through the air, burying invisible shards in his chest. “Because he is a grown man, and I haveno legitimate reason to chain him to this tiny, mortal village his mother forced him to hide in.”
Mortal?
Not for the first time, the vision of Sean Archer standing before a crowd of thousands flittered through David’s brain. His arm was raised, and he held a short blade in his hand while the crowd rallied and cheered.
A deep suspicion opened one sleepy eye and peeked out from its cave. His mother had always seemed clueless. Scared. Obsessed with his father. But clearly she knew more than she’d let on, and theories whirred to life in David’s brain, as they often did in times of uncertainty.
He could force people to do his bidding. He could sense emotions the way others sensed heat. Bits of the future sometimes found their way into his consciousness. David had never wanted to name these abilities, never considered asking his negligent parents about it. He tried not to think of it at all.
But now…
If these women spoke of mortals, that meant they believed there were alsoimmortals.
In his chest, David’s heart was a hammer attempting to crack his ribs.
Thud, thud, thud.
“He was bound to lose his patience eventually,” the aunt continued, puncturing David’s anxiety. “Heisa Sidera.”
Something pinged in David’s head at that name, some familiarity he couldn’t explain, like the wisps of a dream hovering at the edge of his awareness.
“But that is the heart of Banasté’s territory,” his mom hissed.
A short, tense silence followed before the aunt sighed. “I have to get help.”
“They’ll take him back,” his mom replied. “If they find him, they’ll take him to Luxoria. This will haveall been for naught.”
Luxoria? David stepped closer to the cracked door, wondering if perhaps he wasn’t hearing things correctly.
“The Great Mother has led us here. What choice do I have?” the aunt asked. “If Banasté gets to him… He’s untrained. Unprotected. They’ll slaughter him.” Another silence passed before she added, “This is too much. Lana wanted him hidden, but then she went and died, and it’s just too much!”
His mother murmured something too soft to hear.
“Come with me,” the aunt begged.
“What?” Some rustling of fabric. “You know I can’t do that! I won’t leave him.”
Him.
David didn’t bother to wonder whether it was him or his father she referred to. Garrett Berkeley was a sociopath, but Alex loved him beyond reason. The treacly affection coated everything when his father was near her. The woman was feral.
“Fine. I didn’t expect a different answer,” the aunt said, tone testy. “But you should get David away from this place, Xandra. Garrett has him walking a dangerous path. You know what will happen if he’s discovered.”
“He’s been recognized by Indies before and nothing has come of it. They’re all too scared of him to try anything.”
With a flare of alarm, David stepped a tad closer. He’d been recognized bywho? What the fuck were they talking about?
