Page 24 of Call of the Ride
The insane woman before us simply shrugged. “It won’t do you any good—he’ll just keep finding you. Why do you think that is?” She tapped her lip thoughtfully, as if contemplating the fucking weather.
It was all I could do to not roughly shake some sense into her as I gritted out, “Stop playing games, Moonstone. Tell us what you know!”
The seer sighed heavily, as if I were the one being irresponsibly difficult. “Your darkness was able to locate and remove a foreign object from your body on its own. Perhaps you canconnectto your power and do it again—only moreconsciouslythis time?”
I stared at her for a beat, willing myself to remain calm and focus on what she was suggesting. My father’s men had only got one shot in during their ambush the other day, so there weren’t any more bullets to remove. As mybabawas a healer, the only medical attention I’d received growing up was holistic. The only time I’d ever been put under general anesthesia was when I’d first arrived at the Facility as a boy and my father had insisted the on-site doctor give me a full examination…
Holy.
Fucking.
Shit.
Before my brain could fully register the implications, I instinctively went into survival mode. Seamlessly connecting with my powers, I zeroed in on the area just under my hairline—the same place we always implanted trackers during our missions. Tendrils of darkness formed around me and sweat beaded on my brow as I began to slowly extract the foreign object with a surgeon’s precision. All the while, I was fueled by my increasing rage at the knowledge my own father had tagged and tracked me, like a fucking animal.
No.
Like a shifter.
With a roar of pain and something else I wasn’t ready to address, I felt the tracking device tear through skin and hair to land with an anticlimactic clink on the cement floor. Before anyone could speak, I crushed it under my boot so forcefully that the foundation rattled beneath us.
Cassandra nodded once before meeting my gaze. “I bet that felt good, didn’t it?”
“Yeah,” I growled, still shaking. “It did.”
As my adrenaline settled, I registered that someone’s arms were wrapped around me. Looking down, I saw Anthia gazing up at me with what was probably her version of a sweet smile.
“It’s going to be all right,” she echoed, searching my face, her brows furrowed with concern. “Although we should probably still get the fuck out of here before Matthew arrives, yeah?”
“Oh, he wasn’t even close,” Cassandra cackled, casually waving a hand as she spun on her heel and sauntered away. “I just wanted the big guy to stop dicking around and get to it already.”
I couldn’t even find it in me to be angry as we followed the lunatic back through butt plug bordello toward the front of the building again. Since accidentally becoming one with the darkness, I’d been hesitating to fully use my powers for fear I’d disappear again. Camouflaging us during the ambush, and allowing the darkness to heal my gunshot wound afterward, had been exceptions fueled by necessity. However, I knew Vasi needed me at my best—both inside and out—if we had any hope of defeating our enemies.
So, I guess I did need to stop dicking around.
The occultists were still engaged in their meeting when we emerged, barely sparing us a second look as they discussed being wizards or whatever. I snorted, wondering why a bunch of humans supposedly in tune with the supernatural couldn’t recognize a half-shifter, a demigod, and a full-blown goddess when they were standing right in front of them. My judgmental thoughts were quickly interrupted by the tinkling of the bells over Cassandra’s door.
I tensed as the swan sharply inhaled, her violet eyes widening at the sight of whoever had entered the shop. Before I could spin around, a vaguely familiar voice gasped in return.
“Anthia?!”
Chapter 19
Vasilisa
No sooner had Tan’s mother implied we had a limited time to get to Thames Head spring, then she insisted we stay for more coffee and yet another serving of dessert.
Now I see where Tan got his love of sweets.
And taking his time eating them…
While we waited for Asa to finish washing dishes with Zehra, Tan humored me by finding a photo album so I could see him as a baby, “bobbing in the tub.” My Rider was uncharacteristically quiet as I flipped through the pages until I paused on a childhood photograph of him with his mother and a man who I assumed was his father.
“It’s just ironic…” he finally spoke, his hazel eyes riveted on the photo, although he seemed miles away. “Being a solidly middle child, I always feared there was nothing remarkable about me—that I simply blended in with the pack. I discovered early on I could make people laugh, so that’s what I did to stand out, and when I came across an ad for the Facility after uni, I saw it as an opportunity to finally pave my own way.” He paused, then chuckled humorlessly. “But clearly, it wasfatepulling the strings all along, albeit, to give me exactly what I wished for. Well...someone else’s version of it, rather. ”
I silently absorbed his words, unsure how to respond as waves of sadness emanated from the usually cheerful man. As difficult as it was, I had to acknowledge that my Riders’ lives would have been much easier were they nothing more than humans enjoying a normal existence. Instead, they’d all been divinely created for a greater purpose, with a path decided for them before they were born.
True, being demigods brought immeasurable power, but also crushing responsibilities, where failure could mean dire results. I’d had centuries to come to terms with how drastically my life changed—with how quickly I went from human toother—but this upheaval was still fresh for my men.
