Into Darkness

34

“I don’t really know how it works,” she admitted quietly. “Just that I don’t have accidents when I wear gloves.”

“Ah, yes. Your ‘accidents.’ That’s how I knew where to find you, incidentally.”

When Lu looked at him, startled, he said, “The fire at the credit market. That was my first clue where to look.”

Seeing the confusion on her face, he said, “Just like the IF does, we monitor GlobeNet for any kind of suspicious activity that might indicate one of us living undercover.” His face hardened. “And we try to get to them first.”

GlobeNet was the Imperial Federation’s international spynet, which surveilled all citizens and communications and distributed the “news.”

So technology had brought him to her. Not those wonderful, delicious dreams, which now that she thought about it, probably were only one-sided. She knew she had Gifts she didn’t understand; perhaps dreaming about people she’d meet was one of them. She’d never met her birth mother or father in those dreams, though. Or her sister. Or her godmother.

Only him. A very different him, unscarred and smiling, full of lightness and life.

So . . . just like the rest of her life, her dreams of Magnus had been a lie.

Lu tried to feel nothing but her newly found numbness, but all sorts of other emotions were leaking through. Fun, lovely things like foolishness. Misery. Despair.

New Vienna. City of her childhood, city of dreams. All her life had been nothing but dreams. And here, finally, was reality.

Boy, did it suck.

“Are you sure you want to go to this Assembly meeting, Hope? You look pale.”

The concern in his voice and eyes was genuine, but now Lu realized it for what it was: brotherly. “Yes,” she answered dully, turning away. “And I told you before, my name’s Lumina.”

I’m the monster who broke the world.

ELEVEN

Everyone had been milling around, talking quietly in small groups, until Magnus and Hope—Lumina, he corrected himself—were about ten meters from the entrance to the cave where the Assembly regularly gathered. He knew it wasn’t only their footsteps echoing on the stone that had cut off the conversation so abruptly.

It was Lu. Her presence was electric, as tangible and shocking as a hand slapping his face.

Walking beside him, she was pale and silent, her lips set to a grim line. He thought she looked slightly ill, and had to fight the urge to pick her up and carry her back to her bedchamber. That urge was simultaneously fighting the urge to get as far away from her as possible, because he also had another—and very powerful—urge to kiss her. More than kiss her, but he wasn’t allowing himself to dwell on that.

That would come later, when he was alone in bed.

He felt his control unraveling, each and every second he stood by her side. To be honest, he felt a little ill himself. He had no idea how he’d manage to live in the same vicinity with this woman, the siren of his dreams.

It probably would involve a lot more trips to search for lost kin.

They entered the cave. This one was high ceilinged, with a spectacular display of mustard-colored stalactites bristling from above. He’d chosen it as the Assembly place because it was quiet, dry, and away from the main population; with a species that could hear a flutter of wings and determine without sight if it was lark or crow or pigeon, one had to take precautions.

“Friends,” said Magnus into the expectant hush. “As you can see, fortune has favored us.”

He watched them watch her, saw their amazement, their gladness, their relief.

And beneath it all, their fear.

His chest tightened, seeing that. Though they had good reason to be afraid, he hoped Lumina didn’t notice. He turned to her. “My Lady, may I present the members of the Assembly to you?”

She looked at him askance, clearly baffled by the title and the formality. He had to press his lips together to keep from smiling. He led her forward, his fingertips just grazing her elbow, and the introductions began.

He wondered what they must look like to her as each was called, coming forward to curtsy or give a slight, respectful bow. There was Xander, Morgan’s husband, black clad and bulging with both muscles and weapons, swords strapped to his back, knives on his belt and boots. An assassin, he normally had that assassin’s flat killer gaze, his eyes glowing amber, but when he looked at Lumina there was only kindness there.