Chaos Broken (21 page)

‘Kianna's tits,' I said as I tried my best to wipe the sick off my back. ‘Don't feel bad for me. I'm exactly the person I need to be.'

‘Of course,' she murmured. ‘And I thought my upbringing was hard.'

Though Nicola had been raised by a violent man, from what I could tell he had treated her with considerable kindness and showered her with gifts. But I didn't think it would win me any points if I suggested a shoe closet and pet ponies weren't exactly a hard way to be raised, so I held my tongue. Plus, losing her husband and finding out how evil her father was would be enough to break most people, but here she was, creating a life and business for herself. Not to mention saving my financial hide again.

A sly look entered Nicola's eyes and she passed Crowhurst her baby. ‘Come with me, Lora. I think it's time you saw something.'

‘Eh?' Crowhurst took baby Tarn. ‘Why am I the babysitter?'

‘He's your nephew,' Nicola said. ‘And it's about time you started pulling your weight.'

I gave Crowhurst a thumbs up, then followed Nicola as she strode behind the stage area and up a staircase to the second floor.

‘I don't know if I properly thanked you for this job,' I told Nicola.

‘We're helping each other, aren't we?' she replied. ‘Besides, I owe you, for everything you've done for me.'

‘Ah, right.' I cleared my throat. If I was going to ask Nicola for more advance on my fees, then now was the time.

But Nicola was moving fast and I was having trouble keeping my breath. By the time we'd reached the top, my lungs were burning and my lame leg trembled. We crossed a small dusty room and my curiosity grew. Perhaps a view of the city? Old theatre costumes? Priceless art antiques discovered in a dusty closet?

Nicola pushed a part of the wall, and it swung open to reveal a room that was clean and well lit. A nephilim filled the opening, arms crossed. When he spied Nicola, he quickly shifted aside and we entered the room. Windows were covered in heavy drapes and the room furnishings looked like they'd been borrowed from the theatre: all exaggerated lines and plush red velvet.

Casper sat at a table with two other nephilim, eating a pastry and reading a street-press paper, while other nephilim milled about, talking quietly. My eyes skipped over them, roaming the room until I found Roman. He stood by a boarded-up window and was arguing with another nephilim. I realised with a start it was Locan, the Regulator who kept calling me Kitty. They both glanced my way before Locan asked Roman a question, distracting him.

‘Manika and I thought this would be the best place for Roman to hide with his men,' Nicola said softly.

‘How long have they been here?' I asked.

‘They've been trickling in over the past few days.' Nicola gave me an apologetic look. ‘I'm sorry I didn't say anything earlier, Lora. It wasn't my secret to tell.'

‘That's okay,' I murmured, feeling a little put out that Roman hadn't mentioned anything.

Nicola patted my shoulder as she headed for the exit. ‘I'll tell Crowhurst not to wait around for you.'

Then she was gone, leaving me staring at Roman and wondering why he hadn't told me he was here.

Casper strolled over, wiping pastry crumbs from his front. ‘He should be finished in a minute.'

‘Sure.' I shrugged. ‘Whatever.'

‘Heard the latest about your old boyfriend?' Casper asked.

‘You mean Seth?' I asked. ‘I know your Wizard's living in a fancy mansion in High Town. I checked it out.'

‘Suitable digs for someone petitioning for the role of City Treasurer,' Casper said lightly.

My eyes widened. ‘You're kidding.'

‘Got it through reliable sources. He's quite the up and comer.'

‘But he's the leader of the Reaper Street Gang,' I said. ‘How could the Council of Ten overlook something like that?'

‘There are no official ties between him and the Reapers,' Casper pointed out.

‘He keeps the company of Reapers, for one,' I pointed out. ‘He has the Reaper tattoo on his forearm, for another.'

‘That means nothing on paper. Especially when you have enough money to back you. Harken is a trade city, after all.' Casper tapped his nose. ‘And a trade city means coin is king.'

‘I won't argue with that,' I said. ‘I don't suppose you know anything about the High Grigori who's come to Harken?'

Casper's face turned grim. ‘High Grigori are all the same. Like a regular Grigori, only a shade more evil.'

‘Is he the reason why you and Roman are still here?' I asked. ‘High Grigori Laeonder is dangerous. I've met him, he's got the crazy shine of a true believer.'

‘You should ask the big man why we're still here,' Casper replied. ‘He won't leave. Neither will Gorath. That guy just keeps turning up like a bad smell. I still don't trust him. You don't just stop wanting power, even if the Wizard did wave his magic wand for a peace deal.'

‘I don't think the Wizard of Oz had a wand,' I murmured. ‘Wasn't it more he was a fraud?'

‘Semantics,' Casper said with a dismissive wave. ‘He got shit done, regardless. Even with no real power, that's what made him the most dangerous man in the room.'

Roman escorted Locan to the door and they clasped hands, then Locan was gone. Roman turned and walked over. ‘Hello, Lora.'

‘Hello, yourself,' I replied. ‘So this is where you've been hiding out.'

‘Nicola has been very generous.' Roman rubbed his jaw, suddenly looking awkward. ‘Lora, I'm sorry about the other night.'

Casper winced and stuck his fingers in his ears. ‘If this is a lovers' quarrel, I don't want to hear it. Why don't you two crazy kids go to the roof where you can have some privacy?'

‘A very sensible idea.' Roman crooked an arm my way. ‘My Lady, will you accompany me?'

Feeling absurdly pleased, I took his arm. ‘Of course, kind sir.'

The roof of the theatre hosted a large conservatory, full of greenery and split cane furniture. Rain splattered against the glass roof and the afternoon air had a brisk bite to it. Letting go of Roman's arm, I approached one wall, my cane clicking against the stone floor. I stared out over the vista of the city, my breath fogging the glass. Most of the buildings were covered in a grey, hazy drizzle, and beyond them I could almost catch a peek of the Pearl Ocean. I thought of Gideon and Orella, in a land far from Harken. Far from me. I'd never travelled far within The Weald, myself. I was a Harken girl and life on the streets of Applecross was adventure enough. Instead, my interests had always lain in the Outlands, the homeland of my birth mother.

‘How is your hand?' Roman came up behind me.

I turned. ‘Healing fast, thanks to your Bishop's Balm.'

He took my hand, examined the healing cut. His nose wrinkled. ‘What is that smell?'

I sighed. ‘Baby sick.'

‘Mmmm.' Roman kept his eyes locked on my hand. ‘You do make it rather hard for someone to want to kiss you, smelling so strange all the time.'

My eyebrows lifted. ‘You want to kiss me?'

He leant forward to brush his lips against mine. I opened my mouth with a small sigh and the kiss turned deep. Then he pulled back, brushing his lips against the palm of my hand.

‘I hate that you live with such danger in your life,' he said. ‘And I am afraid that I bring even more to your doorstop.'

‘And I hate that I did this to you.' The words rushed from my mouth, honest and raw, and my eyes glanced at his wings, guilt pulsing through me.

Roman frowned. ‘Did what —' Then realisation flooded his face. He grabbed my other hand and pressed them both against his chest. ‘What I am today, what I've become, it wasn't your fault. It was not your doing. Someone else orchestrated the events. Don't you forget that.'

‘Sure, okay,' I said, and I knew I sounded unconvinced. Guess Nicola's little lesson about believing your own lies hadn't quite rubbed off.

‘Lora, without you I would have remained a blind man.' He wrapped his arms around me. ‘Without you, I would never have been free of the Grigori.'

I pushed away from him and he let go quicker than I would have liked.

‘There's a High Grigori in the city,' I said. ‘He thinks that the nephilim are starting to question the authority of the Order. That you're bringing about unrest.'

Roman blew out a long breath. ‘My nephilim brothers deserve freedom, Lora.'

‘Does Fowler think that as well?'

‘I don't know.' Roman turned and walked further in the conservatory. ‘But when he saw me, he understood things were changing.'

‘How so?' I asked, following him. ‘This…
change
only happened to you.'

Roman stopped by a small wooden bench set among some ferns and sat down, silky white feathers ruffling out before settling in place again. ‘My wings could be seen as an indication the Grigori have always spoken the truth about our celestial heritage. But I am now a symbol of the nephilim's desire for freedom. What we could be outside of the Order.'

I moved towards him, watching his expression closely. Roman appeared to be in the mood to finally share his secrets, even if I was unsure I wanted to hear them.

‘I want to change the destiny of the nephilim.' Roman pulled me towards him. ‘I want to give my brothers freedom. Unchecked rumours are rotting the nephilim from within. Causing unrest.' His wings shifted behind him, as if impatient to stretch out. ‘The Grigori may not realise it yet, but they need me. I have my terms and they will hear me out.' His dark eyes studied me. ‘You know, I've missed you.'

‘I've missed you as well,' I admitted.

‘And I'm sorry about how I behaved last time we were together.'

‘I think I understand.' I lifted a hand to stroke the side of his face, feeling rough stubble. ‘I hope you believe me when I tell you I have no feelings for Seth.'

‘I believe you.' Roman's hands squeezed my legs and his wings shifted with a rustling sound.

‘Have you tried to fly with those bad boys?' I nodded at them.

‘In secure areas.' Roman stood and walked to where a winch was mounted on a pole and cranked the handle. Overhead, a skylight opened with a rusty whine and I craned my neck to look up at the open sky, seeing nothing but oppressive grey rain clouds.

Roman secured the winch, then wrapped his arms around me. His wings shot out, causing the plants around us to sway violently. ‘Would you like me to give you a little ride?'

‘Are you insane?' I pulled away from him, hands raised. ‘Firstly, you'd be spotted. Secondly, I hate heights. I couldn't imagine anything worse than flying. Except riding a horse.'

Roman's face turned rueful and his wings settled back behind him. ‘Even with me?'

‘I'm sorry, but I'm not your gal for a magical ride in the sky. I like my boots on the ground, where I can control where I'm running to next.'

He chuckled as he shut the skylight. ‘One day I'll get you up and you'll love it.'

‘No chance,' I said. ‘Tell me, what have you been talking about with Fowler? What are you two working out?'

Roman walked over and laced his fingers through mine. ‘Fowler believes the way to head off any disobedience with the nephilim Regulators is to give them more freedom in certain matters. Naturally, he has become very unpopular with his colleagues, but he is convinced this is the future of the Order. And in the future, who knows? Maybe the Order will recruit nephilim through individual faith, rather than religious indoctrination.'

Despite the dark shadow Laeonder had cast in my thoughts, a cautious hope leaped in my chest. ‘If some sort of agreement was struck, would you stay in Harken?'

Roman lifted a hand to run a thumb along my jaw line. ‘Harken is where I grew up. This city is my home.'

My soaring hope faltered. ‘Is that the only reason?'

A wicked grin curved his lips and he leant down to nuzzle my neck, then nipped my ear, as if to chastise me. ‘Of course not.'

‘Lora?'

I snapped out of my daydream and tried to recall what Sabine had been saying. We were sitting at a bakery near the ‘acceptable' end of Abraham's Alley. Sabine had ordered a hot chocolate and cinnamon tart, while I nursed an espresso and almond pastry. The girl had come on my invitation, because I wanted to check she was okay and also find out what else she knew about Kalin. As Sabine had talked, though, my mind had wandered back to the very teenage make-out session with Roman yesterday afternoon. Which, unfortunately, been interrupted by a throat-clearing Casper, telling Roman he was late for a meeting.

And he called himself a friend.

‘Did you want some?' Sabine gestured to her tart.

‘No thanks.' I sipped my espresso and tried not to stare at her short bobbed hairstyle. Dipping a hand into my belt, I pulled out the ribbon I'd retrieved from Kalin's sick gift and slid it across the table. ‘This is yours.'

Sabine pocketed it with a casual gesture. ‘Thanks.' She touched her shoulder-length hair. ‘Though I think I'm beginning to like it short. I might keep it this way.'

‘I think it suits you,' I told her ‘Makes you look sophisticated.'

‘Thank you for asking me out.' Sabine smiled broadly. ‘I've been wanting to thank you for helping to rescue me.'

I cleared my throat, feeling awkward. ‘You wouldn't have been in that situation if it hadn't been for me. But what I can't figure out is why Kalin would attack you just to lure me to him. Is there anything you could tell me about him that might help me understand what he's up to?'

Sabine ducked her head. ‘I'm not sure. He didn't really say anything.'

‘What about his studies? You mentioned he was smart.'