Shades And Shadows Collection

Chapter 2-2

“You want to wait until the person burned alive is one of us?” Riley asked, his hand coming to rest on his wife"s shoulder.

The only child of Alaric"s aunt, Abigail was only twenty-two, and was nearly six months pregnant with their first child. Of all of them, she was the only one who was publicly known for her gifts, making a living as a psychic, reading cards and palms out of the parlor of the house she had inherited from her mother and sometimes from a local metaphysical shop.

“The 8th Battalion is a problem, even if they haven"t turned their eye our way. It is pretty clear my fellow council members have, however.” Anson said. “Tonight, Reverend Roth suggested that his proposed ordinance should apply to more than just Shades.”

is“It isn"t just here either.” Victoria said, her sharp eyes sweeping the room. “The winds bring news of violence erupting all over. This business with the Shade murderer has opened a door to a very dark place, and that darkness has found its way out.”

Bryan crossed his arms and leaned back against the door. “The racism isn"t new.”

The face of the man who had been killed filled Alaric"s mind, the footage playing as though he was back in his father"s office watching it. He could almost feel the pain as the flames caught. He turned away, trying to keep his discomfort from derailing the conversation.

“Perhaps it isn"t new.” Victoria said. “But once it was shoved behind a door and we tried to pretend it was gone.”

“I don"t want to be the one to say that it isn"t our fight…” Bryan said.

“Yes you do.” Anson answered with a shake of his head. “But you"re wrong. Bigots seldom focus on just one group of people. And when it gets dressed up in religion, we"re all fair game.”

“Roth made it pretty clear tonight that he wants to see anyone his religion brands as evil contained, at the least.” Alaric said, pushing the fiery images in his head away.

“But Roth is a councilman, not a member of these militias that are committing the violence.” Bryan insisted.

“You sure about that?” Alaric asked. He licked his lips and drew in a deep breath before glancing aside at his father.

“You"ve been quiet so far.” Anson said. “Speak your mind.”

“When you asked him if he wanted to outlaw psychics and herbalists tonight, his reaction was…it was like you validated something for him. He is hiding a lot more than he"s showing.”

“Did you read him?” Riley asked.

Alaric shook his head. “No, just surface stuff, emotions. I wasn"t close enough…and I"m not sure I want to read beyond the surface with him.”

“I think we need to be vigilant. And we need to be prepared.” Anson said. “I will be increasing my time with the globe, see if I can spot trouble coming. I want the rest of you to be alert too. And if you see something, tell us.”

Alaric sensed his mother"s approach and turned to her as the room slowly emptied out. She smiled and took his hand. Her touch was soothing. She was worried, he didn"t need to read her to know that.

When the room was empty but for his parents and himself, Alaric sighed and tried to stifle a yawn. His father was going to go out into the yard, to the grove of trees where the orb waited. It was one of the few remaining artifacts of their ancient tribe in existence. It was a source of energy, a means of connection. The appointed leader of the tribe could use it to instantly reach any and all with gifts, no matter where they were. Since his father had taken on the mantle to lead the tribe, they had used it to unite the displaced families, bringing them together in a way the tribe hadn"t known in over a century.

His father had been chosen because he was one of the few remaining with a bloodline that went back to the old world, back to a time when their tribe had been whole. Anson had inherited the role from his uncle and he had chosen Alaric to stand with him, though at the time Alaric had barely been an adult. Nearly seven years had passed since that day when he had stood with Bryan and Victoria to support his father"s initiation.

Alaric had learned a lot since then. In some ways the ritual that had connected him to the others had opened him up, brought his gifts to the fore. He"d been a skilled empath even then, though he seldom exerted influence, preferring to use his gifts to gather information. It made him good at reading people, at seeing through lies. But in the years since the ritual, his ability to read far more than emotions had become stronger.

His father saw it as a sign that Alaric would follow him as leader. It was part of why he delegated authority to Alaric regularly, hoping he would become familiar with the work of leading the tribe. As his mother walked with his father out into the yard, Alaric turned for his room.

They had been a fractured tribe, scattered across the world, the gifts waning as they intermarried with those without gifts. Since his childhood, Alaric had helped his mother trace the lines, contacting people, offering them connection, family. Some had moved to be closer, and they had begun training again.

Together, he and his mother had designed a series of tests to help determine which gifts were strongest in those that came to them wanting to learn. Using the knowledge his father collected from the memories of the ancestors, they were building customized courses of study and intensive practical trainings.

He sat at his desk and ran a hand over his face. All of it could come crashing down around them. He had been skeptical when Riley told them of his vision. As Bryan said, precognition wasn"t ever the most reliable of their many gifts. The future was always in motion, and telling the future was like trying to pin it in place.

But he was starting to feel like, just maybe, Riley"s vision of the future was closer to true than any of them wanted it to be.