Reign of Shadows (Descendants #3)
Melissa Wright
Chapter One
Brianna
Heat pulsed through the warehouse, liquid fire pushed by some unseen force. Metal screamed and block crumbled, tearing away every protection she had from the gale. But it was not the light of fire that accompanied the wind, nor the brightness of a flame. It was dark beneath the haze of fog.
It was a shadow.
Brianna jolted awake, sitting up to find the darkness of her room. It was there again, that urge to fight and the impulse to run, but she forced it down, not allowing herself to be afraid. Not even conceding to the desire to click on the bedside lamp. She took two deep breaths, committing the details to memory: the tang of metal in her mouth, the sulfur that hung on the too-hot wind, and the sound beneath the screeching, that steady beat of footsteps heading toward her.
Quiet laughter floated in from the front room and she closed her eyes, willing the calm back before pulling her feet over the edge of the mattress and onto the plush carpeting of her council bedroom floor. It would be her sister outside. And her Logan.
She ran a hand over her face. They didn’t understand. As far as anyone knew, it was all over. The terror they’d faced with Morgan, with the prophecy, all of it gone. But less than a day since waking from that affair, the aftermath not even cleared away, she’d begun having the new visions.
The real ones.
She shuffled across the floor in darkness, hand out to catch the edge of the dresser, purposely not thinking about why her mind had labeled them that way, not allowing herself to panic at the ideas that had flooded her in the last hours. She would work through them, but one thing at a time. Brianna reached up, blindly feeling for the switch that would illuminate the washroom, and flinched at her reflection, the glimpse of something as it flashed in the too-green eyes staring back at her.
One thing at a time, she reminded herself, feeling the heat pulse through her fingertips, the skin prickle the length of her arm. Brianna pulled her hair back into a ponytail to splash her face with water, barely sparing another glance at her reflection before sliding into a pair of borrowed jeans and leaving the darkness of the bedroom to join the others.
The front room was large, holding a sitting area, several tables, and a workspace. Emily glanced up from where she perched on the edge of a sofa, always appearing ready to stand or bolt from the room, her dark blonde hair in loose waves, her casual smile still out of the ordinary. “Sorry, Bri,” she said. “Did we wake you?”
Brianna shook her head, forcing a smile as her eyes caught Logan, sending a sharp pang through her chest. His arms were crossed as he leaned against the side of a large padded chair, that same state of constant readiness in his form as in Emily’s.
“Where’s Aern?” Brianna asked, aware and more than a little guilty that they didn’t suspect her of keeping something from them.
Logan shifted, and Brianna kept her eyes on her sister, knowing he was doing his best to give her space until she recovered. Emily pointed toward the floor, or rather the level below where Council business was being conducted at an alarming rate. “He’s downstairs, still working out details for the new board and the other properties.”
Brianna’s face paled, her thoughts going to Brendan and the others who had been lost in the fighting. Nothing was left of Westlake; the entire property had been reduced to ash.
A look passed between Logan and Emily and she stood, patting a hand on her knee as she said, “I’ll go grab us some lunch.” She left the room to Brianna’s vague nod, and Logan moved, squeezing her shoulder as he asked, “Sleep well, Brianna?”
She searched his eyes and found the same concern she thought she’d heard in his voice. If anyone would have suspected her, had realized she was keeping secrets, it would have been Logan, wouldn’t it?
She said, “I’m sorry,” the apology for more than just those secrets, and he slid closer, wrapping an arm around her as he pressed his lips to her forehead. He smelled clean, too familiar, and she breathed it in as his fingers trailed down her back.
“Brianna,” he said, “none of us would be here without you. Don’t apologize. For anything.”