Taken By Storm Read Online Free
Author: Emmie Mears
blocky man in the photos is instantly recognizable. Mira's breath hisses in.
Gregor in a car with Washington plates. Gregor on a street where there's a view of the ocean. Gregor at a supermarket.
"He's not even hiding." I can't keep the incredulity from my voice.
Next to me, Mira leans up against my shoulder, the touch somehow a comfort. "Motherfucker," she says.
Somehow her swearing is a comfort too.
The obvious question is whether the images have been doctored, but I know without asking that they haven't. That glimpse of ocean behind Gregor is real. He's been close enough to the sea to smell it, touch it. A surge of jealousy catches me off guard, even though it's not the point.
Gregor is in Washington, and we're all stuck in Tennessee.
"What the fuck are we going to do?" The question tumbles out of my mouth, and all the calcified rage from weeks of knowing Gregor was a traitor, from seeing what he did to Evis, from seeing him violate every sacred corner of our calling — it comes back to life with blood seeping through it, surging around it. My fingers and toes feel hard on the ends, and my breath lives in my throat.
"We can track him," Saturn says, motioning at the pictures. "He can't stop us."
It's probably irrational that I hate that idea. I want to be the one to find Gregor, and the sense of stagnant impotence I feel listening to Saturn go on about the shades who managed to follow Gregor thus far feels like welling magma, and there are cracks in my surface.
A light touch on my shoulder makes me turn, expecting Miles or Carrick — but it's Mira. Her eyes burn like backlit amethyst, and I know she feels what I do.
"You're thinking about this wrong," she says. She's not talking directly to me or even Saturn, but he shuts up and looks at her.
"What do you mean?" Carrick sidles up to us, taking the pictures from Miles and flipping through them, disgust twisting his sensual lips into a sneer.
"I mean that you're all thinking about how to find this hellslime fucker when the question you should be asking is why he can leave our territory and we can't."
Everyone's looking at Mira, but she's still looking at me.
"I don't know about y'all," she says, "but I sure as all six and a half hells want to know."
I think of her home, covered in pictures of places we'll never go. Aztec ruins and shining beaches.
My gaze locks with hers. I nod.
CHAPTER THREE
The first step to figuring out how Gregor got to Washington is a control. We all drive north together as an experiment, and sure enough, not ten miles north of the border, Mira hits the hazards on her car and pulls over. I get out of my car to check on her, and she's got a sheen of sweat covering her face, turning the brown of her skin to wan gray and the remaining pink scars from markat spittle to pearly pink. We've hit the edge of her territory, but I'm still fine. It feels like a slick worm wriggling inside my stomach, this strange difference when up until today I thought all the Mediators in my territory shared the same boundaries. There has to be a reason beyond the obvious one — I've been able to come this far north here for ages. Mira was so sure she couldn't. When Mira, Saturn, and Miles leave us, it's with a promise that they'll start mapping their territories together. Mira plans to get Ripper and Devon to come along to see if there are any variations between the three of them, and since it's the easiest way to see if I'm the anomaly, I agree.
I don't like the idea of all three of them going off together. They're all known to be my friends, and all three of them have been dealing with varying degrees of hassle since I got blackballed.
Though to be truthful, Ripper and Mira teaching Mittens how to hold a sword should be on YouTube.
We get back to the cabin a bit after ten, and Evis and Jax are watching a game show. It's a bit eerie to see them guess the correct answers to pop culture questions relevant decades ago when they're
Gregor in a car with Washington plates. Gregor on a street where there's a view of the ocean. Gregor at a supermarket.
"He's not even hiding." I can't keep the incredulity from my voice.
Next to me, Mira leans up against my shoulder, the touch somehow a comfort. "Motherfucker," she says.
Somehow her swearing is a comfort too.
The obvious question is whether the images have been doctored, but I know without asking that they haven't. That glimpse of ocean behind Gregor is real. He's been close enough to the sea to smell it, touch it. A surge of jealousy catches me off guard, even though it's not the point.
Gregor is in Washington, and we're all stuck in Tennessee.
"What the fuck are we going to do?" The question tumbles out of my mouth, and all the calcified rage from weeks of knowing Gregor was a traitor, from seeing what he did to Evis, from seeing him violate every sacred corner of our calling — it comes back to life with blood seeping through it, surging around it. My fingers and toes feel hard on the ends, and my breath lives in my throat.
"We can track him," Saturn says, motioning at the pictures. "He can't stop us."
It's probably irrational that I hate that idea. I want to be the one to find Gregor, and the sense of stagnant impotence I feel listening to Saturn go on about the shades who managed to follow Gregor thus far feels like welling magma, and there are cracks in my surface.
A light touch on my shoulder makes me turn, expecting Miles or Carrick — but it's Mira. Her eyes burn like backlit amethyst, and I know she feels what I do.
"You're thinking about this wrong," she says. She's not talking directly to me or even Saturn, but he shuts up and looks at her.
"What do you mean?" Carrick sidles up to us, taking the pictures from Miles and flipping through them, disgust twisting his sensual lips into a sneer.
"I mean that you're all thinking about how to find this hellslime fucker when the question you should be asking is why he can leave our territory and we can't."
Everyone's looking at Mira, but she's still looking at me.
"I don't know about y'all," she says, "but I sure as all six and a half hells want to know."
I think of her home, covered in pictures of places we'll never go. Aztec ruins and shining beaches.
My gaze locks with hers. I nod.
CHAPTER THREE
The first step to figuring out how Gregor got to Washington is a control. We all drive north together as an experiment, and sure enough, not ten miles north of the border, Mira hits the hazards on her car and pulls over. I get out of my car to check on her, and she's got a sheen of sweat covering her face, turning the brown of her skin to wan gray and the remaining pink scars from markat spittle to pearly pink. We've hit the edge of her territory, but I'm still fine. It feels like a slick worm wriggling inside my stomach, this strange difference when up until today I thought all the Mediators in my territory shared the same boundaries. There has to be a reason beyond the obvious one — I've been able to come this far north here for ages. Mira was so sure she couldn't. When Mira, Saturn, and Miles leave us, it's with a promise that they'll start mapping their territories together. Mira plans to get Ripper and Devon to come along to see if there are any variations between the three of them, and since it's the easiest way to see if I'm the anomaly, I agree.
I don't like the idea of all three of them going off together. They're all known to be my friends, and all three of them have been dealing with varying degrees of hassle since I got blackballed.
Though to be truthful, Ripper and Mira teaching Mittens how to hold a sword should be on YouTube.
We get back to the cabin a bit after ten, and Evis and Jax are watching a game show. It's a bit eerie to see them guess the correct answers to pop culture questions relevant decades ago when they're
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