TRUE STORM

TRUE STORM - CHAPTER 3

Alastair of no particular last name found me in an alley one morning. I'd run away from Storm and his True Born keep in search of Margot. My plan had not gone as expected. Instead of being helped by the kid gang I'd come across, I'd been five seconds from being pummeled to death and robbed. Ali had done a fairly good impression of being a handy merc and secured us passage across the waters, to where my sister was being held.

Though we traveled together from Dominion all the way through the heart of Russia, I learned very little about my new friend. I know he's smart. I know that when he looks at you with his soulful eyes, he sees far more than he'll ever let on. Sometimes when he thinks no one is paying attention, he lets the smart aleck fall away and he's more like a smart little boy with a lot of tricks up his sleeves. I like him best then, when there's nothing between us but the real Ali, the mischievous young man who doesn't want anyone to know he's kind.

Still, there is a lot more I'd need to learn about him before I could call him a true friend. Ali's secrets are nearly as vast and deep as our own. It was his friends who helped us in Russia—friends with mysterious mantelpieces praying to unknown gods. Friends who knew things they shouldn't. And then there is Ali himself. I've learned not to ask too many questions, but I'd like to know how it is that sometimes I've seen him throw his little pet rock in ways that counter nature. I'd like to know how it hovers there, just above the skin of his palm.

What kind of True Born gift would that be?

All these questions just mount as I stare at the True Born before me.

"He helped us, Jared. Saved our skins."

Jared grabs hold of one end of the letter again, though this time he makes no move to tear it from my grasp. "To what end, Lu? What does he want for his help, eh? What kind of bargain will he collect for all of his 'help'?"

My voice shakes with anger. "You have no right to imply—"

Jared's mouth flattens into a tight, angry line. "No. I don't. I'm doing it anyway. You can't let him take advantage of you. Not again."

"Who says I am?" I let go an explosive, incredulous laugh. I know he's just being protective. I know how much it grates on him, the thought that I'll be used. But I'm nobody's fool. I can look after myself, and I deserve to be treated like I can. "All that has happened is that I've gotten a letter, Jared. A letter I haven't even opened yet."

"You're vulnerable, Lu." Jared's eyes are mesmerizing fires. I could be drawn in if I'm not careful. Then burn for an eternity afterward. "You don't know who this guy is, who he's connected to. You don't know what he wants."

I pull my head back to regard the True Born coolly. He's coiled tight as a snake and twice as deadly. One of my eyebrows ticks up as I stare at him with disdain, channeling my mother's best frost.

"Vulnerable? I reckon you've momentarily lost your wits and forgotten who I am." My lips begin to quiver, so I speak more quickly. "Don't you remember all those things that make you hate the Upper Circle? The liars, the cheats, the power brokers? Those are the people who made me, Jared True Born. I reckon"—and my words dip low so I won't cry—"I reckon I'm far safer with Ali than I am with you."

I don't wait for Jared to reply, though I see by his eyes the punch hits home. I turn on my heel and rush for my bedroom, where I slam the door and lock it. But for a long time after, I still feel it on my skin, the heat of Jared's body stamped against my own.

And the burning pain that tells me we can never be.

***

The paper feels slippery, silky in my hands as I unwrap the fragile, creased envelope. When I pull out the letter from its sheath I'm swept by a subtle fragrance, something flowery and loamy. Wherever did Ali even get paper? It's one of the most expensive commodities, something the uppermost of the Upper Circle use to prove their vast and superior wealth.

And when I open the page and begin to read the scrawling loops, I'm taken in by a nostalgia I hadn't expected. This man was more than a friend to me—he was an ally. 

Lucy,

You once asked me who I am. I don't think I gave you a straight answer, and I don't think I will here, either. There are things about me, about where I'm from, that I think could help you now, though. So I'm ready to spill some of those deep dark secrets you've been scratching at.

Some of my more interesting friends tell me that there is some stuff about to go down, stuff your guy Storm should know about. Feel free to bring him along, if you've got to, but really, we need to talk, you and Margot and me.

I'm making it sound all business, but it isn't. Sure, I want to get to know your sister a little better. I also want to visit you just for the hell of it, but that's a story for a different letter.

I'll be seeing you soon.

Yours in darkness and light,

Alastair

The words swim before my eyes as I read them over again and again, but Ali is as skillful as an Upper Circle matron at obscuring the view. The paper crumples between my fingers as I ponder the various strands of meaning. Something is happening, something Storm and Margot and I need to know about.

It had always struck me as odd that Ali had been so quick to help me when he'd encountered me in that alleyway. Most Lasters would have sold me on the black market. Ali, though, booked me passage on a first-class cruise ship and came along for the ride, putting himself in peril the whole way. It wasn't just a lark for him.

And Alastair isn't just a Laster. Is he?

I know I need to get up and tell Storm, but I just sit there, my legs weak and shaky, my breath coming in hot bursts, and listen to the clock tick, tick, tick on the nearby nightstand.

And not for the first time I wonder: Could Ali have a piece of what Margot and I are looking for—the truth of what we are? It's this thought that finally has me rise, like an unsteady toddler, from the corner of the bed. I shake, then shake harder, and have to sit down again to get my balance as the room spins.

It happens again. My legs wobble and I feel sick in the pit of my stomach.

A convulsive boom shakes the furniture seconds before light blooms outside my window. Jared rushes into the room, a feral nightmare ready to rip the world in two. It's only then I realize—it wasn't just me.

Someone has gone and detonated bombs right outside Storm's keep.

READ CHAPTER 4 ON WATTPAD ON 12/05/18. TRUE STORM WILL BE AVAILABLE IN STORES ON MAY 1, 2018.

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