The Shadows (Black Dagger Brotherhood, #13)(8)

There had been a chance, when the child had come out, that as a female, she might surpass the current heir to the throne, depending on the stars.

Although that would have resulted in another death, as there could be only one heir to the throne—the sitting Princess would have had to be ritually killed.

All had waited for news. With the time and date properly recorded, the Chief Astrologer had retreated to his observatory and completed his measuring of the night sky …

s’Ex had learned the fate of his infant before the general population, but after the courtiers: The birth would not be announced. The Queen would reaffirm her current daughter. All would continue as it had been.

And that was that, the personal tragedy for him buried under court protocol and reverence for royalty and long-standing astrological traditions.

He’d known all along that this was a possibility. But either through arrogance or ignorance, he had discounted the terrible reality.

This terrible reality.

When he finally burst out into the night, he drew breaths that he released in puffs. He had never expected an intersection between his personal history and this star-determining system that ruled everything.

Rather stupid of him, really.

Bracing his hands on his knees, he bent over and vomited into the cropped, dying grass.

The expulsion seemed to clear his head a little, to the point where he almost wanted to do it again. He needed to do something, anything … he couldn’t go back into the palace—he was liable to kill the first Shadow he came to just to cleanse the pain.

His rescue, such as it was, came from duty. With this event, there was official business to be conducted, which, in his role as enforcer, he was required to discharge.

It was quite a while before he could calm his mind and emotions sufficiently to dematerialize, and when he was able to scatter his molecules, he proceeded out of the walls of the Territory with a strange sense of commiseration.

He was quite certain that the Queen was feeling nothing at this moment. As a result of that star chart, the innocent life that had been cut short had been devalued to the point of worthlessness, in spite of the fact that what had been born had come out of that royal womb.

The alignment of stars was more significant than the alignment of DNA.

That was the way it had always been. Would forever be.

In spite of the fact that it was but September, as he traveled toward downtown Caldwell, it was the coldest night he had e’er known.





FOUR


The Chosen Selena entered the training center through the back of the office’s supply closet, and as she emerged, she jumped at the tremendous figure behind the desk.

Tohrment, son of Hharm, looked up from the computer. “Oh, hey, Selena. Surprise.”

As her heart rate regulated, she put her hand to her chest. “I didn’t expect to see anyone herein.”

The Brother refocused on the blue glow of the screen. “Yeah, I’m back to work. We’re going to open things up again.”

“Open what?”

“The training center.” Tohr leaned back in the ugliest green leather chair she had ever seen. And as he spoke, he stroked the arm as if it were a precious work of art. “Back before the raids, we had a good program set up here. But then so many members of the glymera were killed during the attacks, and those who did survive left Caldwell. Now, people are returning, and God knows we need the help. The Lessening Society is ramping up like rats to a warehouse.”

“I wondered what all these facilities were for.”

“You’re going to see it firsthand.”

“Maybe,” she said. But only if they moved fast—

“Are you all right?” the Brother asked, jumping up.

With an abrupt spin, the world tilted around her, twirling her head on her spine—or was that the room itself? Either way, Tohrment caught her before she hit the floor, scooping her up in his arms.

“I’m okay, I’m all right … I’m fine,” she said.

At least, she thought she spoke those words out loud. She wasn’t sure, because Tohr’s lips were moving and his eyes were locked on hers like he was talking to her, but she couldn’t hear his voice. Her own. Anything.

Next thing she knew, she was in one of the examination rooms and Vishous’s shellan, Doc Jane, was peering down at her, all dark green eyes, short blond hair and roaring concern.

The chandelier overhead was too bright, and Selena raised her palm to cover her face. “Please—this is unnecessary—”

All of a sudden, she realized she could hear herself, and the world, once dulled and diluted, came back in sharp detail.

“Honestly, I am fine.”

Doc Jane put her hands on her hips and just stood there, as if she were a barometer making some kind of a reading.

For a moment, Selena was struck with fear. She didn’t want them to know that— “Did you just feed someone?” the Brotherhood’s physician asked.

“About an hour ago. And I didn’t eat. I forgot to eat.” Which was not a lie.

“Do you have any medical conditions I need to know about?”

“No.” Which was a lie. “I’m perfectly healthy.”

“Here,” Tohr said, pressing something cold into her hand. “Drink this.”

She did as she was told and discovered it was Coke, in a red can that said, “Share with Buddy,” on the side.