Breaker (Ondine Quartet Book 4) (44 page)

My biggest concerns were the nixes and the ondine training program. Given the attitude of the Healer earlier, there was a high probability this event would be used to create a political environment that would set us back a few years.
 

The back door opened.

Gabe walked in.

A thick silence fell.

He’d shaved and cut his hair. Wearing a t-shirt and running pants, he looked like he’d come straight from teaching a class at the Training Center.

No one moved.
 

Gabe had eyes for no one but Chloe.

She’s going through a lot.

She’d once asked him to accept her as a recruit in the chevalier program. He’d refused and reassigned her to the State Department instead.
 

My chest tightened as he moved toward her.

He’d once turned her down, hurt her. But now, I only felt relief.

The right person to sit with Chloe had arrived.

Cam stood, his brow furrowed. I caught his gaze and shook my head slightly.

He moved back a few paces.

“Hi Gabe.”

They were the first words she’d spoken since holding her father’s corpse.
 

She greeted him as if there was nothing unusual about his sudden appearance.

Gabe settled into the chair beside her. He remained silent for a full minute.

“I was wrong about you,” he finally said.

And then he leaned in, his arms wrapping around her in a paternal embrace so similar to the one Oliver had once given me, it took my breath away.

Chloe rested her head against his shoulder.

“He’s gone.” It came out in a pitiful whisper.

“Hurts like a bitch, doesn’t it?”

She let out a shaky breath, bordering on a sob. “Yeah.”

Cam’s jaw tightened. He turned and walked toward the back of the wing.

His departure snapped everyone out of their frozen stupor.
 

Chevaliers whispered, continuing their work while casting an occasional glance toward the odd couple wrapped in mutual grief.

I couldn’t bear to look at them. Their pain was too naked.

I headed outside and convinced one of the chevaliers to take me back to Haverleau.

By the time we arrived in the Governing Complex, the clouds had opened up. Rain thundered to the ground, an icy outpouring of grief from the dismal gray sky.
 

I knocked on the door.

“Come in.”

Patrice sat at the large mahogany desk, a pile of papers spread in front of her, and pen in hand. Her hair was carefully smoothed into a twist and her black suit was as chic and impeccable as always.

But make-up couldn’t quite conceal the dark shadows smudged beneath her eyes, and blush couldn’t eliminate chance her sunken cheeks.

“Kendra.” She paused. “I should’ve known you’d be okay.”

“Whatever it is you’re doing, don’t do it.”

“You removed a top secret, highly classified prisoner from the Department of Justice and brought him to Lyondale Hospital without the permission of either me or the Council.”

“It was perfectly legal and you know it.” I tilted my head. “Especially since it was your Chief Counsel that arranged everything.”

She briefly shut her eyes. “Nevertheless, your reckless actions have caused his death —“

“Weren’t you planning on executing him anyway?”

“ —and has resulted in extensive property damage to an elemental wing we already spent a great deal of funds on.”

No mention of Jeeves or Helene.

“Don’t you want to know what happened?”

She redirected her attention to the files before her. “I’ve been updated.”

“Augustin is hurt.”

She signed a document and placed it aside.

“Did you hear me?” My voice rose slightly. “He’s in the hospital right now —“

“I heard you the first time.”

“Aren’t you even the slightest bit interested in asking about his well-being? Maybe visiting him?”

Patrice put down her pen and exhaled. “No.”

Anger rattled my bones. The images of Jeeves on the ground, crying out in pain, and Julian’s pale face was still fresh in my mind.
 

She stood and walked over to the tall windows overlooking the gardens. Rivulets streamed across the window pane, thick and furious, warping the view of the gardens to an unrecognizable blur.

“I cannot see him in that hospital,” she said quietly.

I shook my head. “How can you still be ashamed of —“

“I was never ashamed of Augustin. I loved that he was a chevalier.” Her face angled toward me. “I loved him.”

Empath reached within her, searching out her hidden truths.
 

But there were no secrets or lies.

Patrice had truly loved Jeeves.

I looked at her.
 

She still loved him.

“Two weeks before my binding ceremony, I still didn’t know how to tell my parents about Augustin. My betrothal to Rupert had been arranged since childhood and the closer it drew, the more I panicked. How could I disappoint so many others? End an arrangement years in the making? Around that time, Augustin returned to Haverleau gravely injured. His blood…” She shook her head. “I always worried when he went out on missions, of course. But it wasn’t until that day that I realized how dangerous his job was. What he risked each time he left.”

“It scared you.”

“Deeply.” She paused. “Augustin and I planned to go Rogue.”

Whoa.

“On the day of my binding ceremony, I was to escape and meet him at the Haverleau gates.” She leaned in, her breath frosting the window glass. “But when the time came for me to leave, to slip out my window, I couldn’t. I looked in the mirror and could only see his blood on my hands.”

Jeeves had been a risk. She’d taken the safe route.

“He deserved better.”

“I am aware of that. But a person doesn’t plan their shortcomings, Kendra.”

Patrice had been afraid of losing him, of the long reach of war.
 

“I’ve often thought of what might’ve been had I made a different choice that day. If instead of returning to the living room, I’d slipped out my bedroom window and met Augustin at the gates. More than anything, I want a chance to do it over, to make things right with both Augustin and my son.” She turned to face me, her face weary. “But one cannot turn back time.”

That was why she’d protected the school in the Selkie Kingdom. She wanted the children to have another chance, a chance she’d squandered with her own son.

But doing so didn’t bring him back.

“I made my mistakes with Julian, but I can still protect these ondines, the children. I will not subject them to any unnecessary danger.”

Oh no.
 

I stood. “Patrice, not now, not when we’re so close —“

“The Council remains unconvinced, Kendra,” she said coolly. “The ondine training program is indefinitely cancelled. My decision is final and goes into effect immediately.”

“You fought in the Selkie Kingdom,” I pointed out. “Don’t let them do this.”

Don’t let fear control you.
 

“We accept what we’ve been given. The ondines have received some training so far. You have already accomplished that at least.”

“But —“

“We accept what we’ve been given, Kendra,” she repeated and I wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince. Her expression slipped back into its haughty mask. “I will speak to you if any further problems arise.”

 
I swallowed my anger. Arguing would be useless and would accomplish nothing more than a desire to strangle her.

Patrice was convinced nothing could change her mind, that nothing was worth the cost of taking on the Council.

I’d just have to prove otherwise.

“Kendra?”

I halted.

“I had a meeting with Gabriel Renard earlier. He has returned to Haverleau and I’ve reinstated him as Head Chevalier.” A pause. “Julian will no longer be needed in that position.”

“Will Julian be staying or going?”

“I may be in this office, Kendra, but my power does not extend beyond it. You’re the only one that can answer that question.”

By the time I stepped out into the courtyard, a silence had settled over the complex.

The rain had stopped. An ozone scent curled up from the cobblestones, reminding me of a dank darkness in a boiler room, the way moisture hid and tenaciously clung to even the tiniest crevices.

A familiar tall, lean form waited for me.

Tristan walked over, his dark eyes scanning over me again and again as if to make sure I was all there.

I’d never been more relieved to see someone in my entire life.
 

More than anything, I wanted to walk straight into his arms, rest my head against his chest, and cry.
 

But it was the end of the workday and the crowded courtyard was filled with employees heading home.

I wasn’t Governor any more, but duty still stretched between us.

“You’re back.”

“About an hour ago. I’m s—“

“No.” I shook my head. “I just…I can’t take it if you say it.”

It would make everything too real.
 

“Where are you going?”

I’d wandered out of the Governing House without really thinking about it. Instead of heading back to my cottage, I’d somehow ended up here in the courtyard.

“I…I need to see him.”
 

He knew who I meant. “I’ll take you.”
 

He drove slowly, sensing I needed time to prepare. Pink dusk faded and the night claimed Haverleau.

He parked in front of the familiar house with the fire-engine red door. A familiar silver Harley was in the driveway.

Silence fell.

The moon peered out, a curve of silver in the dark.

He continued to sit with me.

“What if he walks away again?”

I didn’t think I could handle another rejection.

“Then you’ll continue forward as you always do,” Tristan said gently. “But for what it’s worth, I don’t think he came back just to leave again.”

A few more minutes of silence.

Facing Aquidae was easy compared to this.

Before I could lose my courage, I opened the car door and exited. I strode around the side of the familiar house, recalling my first visit a year ago.

Tonight, there were no scents of bacon and coffee, no cheerful greeting from my aunt.

Only the stillness of the night and the thick perfume of her roses.

He lay in the middle of the backyard beside the bed of flowers she’d carefully grown and nurtured.
 

I lay beside him and tucked my hands behind my head. Above us, stars lazily blinked at us.

“Who’s been taking care of the flowers?”

“Nanette. Her granddaughter Charisse also helps.”

“Charisse,” he murmured. “One of her students right?”

I nodded.

“I remember. She punched a boy once.”

I smiled at the memory of Marcella telling me that story. “She told me her goal was to one day become a chevalier.”

“Like you.” I felt the weight of his gaze on me. “I’m so proud of you, Kendra.”

The words filled me up in a way nothing else could.

Pressure grew in my throat. “Thanks.”

“I should’ve told you in San Aurelio. Hell, I should’ve told you at Lyondale Hospital back when you shut down that trafficking ring by yourself —“

“Gabe. It’s okay.”
 

Silence. “One of the secrets of adulthood is that they never tell you how much you screw up.”
 

The night deepened, the scent of roses curling around us familiar and intimate.

“Did Marcella ask for my mother to be removed from San Aurelio?”

He didn’t answer.

“Gabe,” I said softly. “She was my mother.”

A part of me had known from the moment Eleanor described the caller.

Female. Young.

Portland was Gabe’s hometown. The only person who would’ve cared enough to secretly arrange for my mother to be returned to the ocean was her baby sister.

I just needed him to confirm it.
 

He didn’t look at me. “Marcella didn’t want Rhian to get into trouble. But yes. She made sure Naida returned to the ocean. She didn’t want her buried under a false name.”

Relief trickled through me. My mother’s baby sister had brought her home.

“Are you really back?” I almost cringed at the plaintive tone in my voice.

“Yes. I should’ve been here to see your induction. Marcella —” His voice caught. “She would’ve been so upset that I missed it. I should’ve been here for you.”

“I miss her.”

I missed you.

“Oh God, I miss her.” His voice shook slightly. “Rhian, too.”

For a moment, the absence of the Irisavies was too much, a loss too overwhelming to be shared between us.

“I ran.” Shame dripped off his admission.
 

“I did, too.” I remembered how I’d lost myself in rage and fear, how easy it was to forget life amidst the relentlessness of death. “I needed time. Like you.”

“But you came back.”

I turned my head to face him. The wild accusation I last saw reflected in his eyes had now been replaced by solemnity.

“So did you,” I said quietly.

And for the next hour, we listened to the night, embraced by the scented memories of Marcella’s roses.

TWENTY-EIGHT

Gray skies continued their restless murmurings the following day.

Dawn splintered across the empty Quad. Most of the student body was still in bed this early on a Saturday morning.

I glanced at my phone.
 

No messages.

After driving us back to the Governing Complex last night, Tristan left, mentioning the pile of work he needed to catch up on.

I’d waited but he didn’t come by the cottage and his room light in the Governing House had remained on all night.

He probably had been working all night, but the unspoken distance between us left me uncertain.
 

I couldn’t avoid it for much longer. I needed to talk to him, explain what I had done.
 

The thought made me want to run screaming in the opposite direction.