Daughters of Creation

Chapter Fifteen: Meraki (Part One)

"To do something with soul, creativity, or love; to put something of yourself into your work"
—Meraki

October 16

Emerson felt naked walking with the group of Guards. Although she wore a heavy cloak that obscured her features and warded off mind readers, she didn't wear the armor Rena and her men did and nor did she have the multitude of weapons they carried. (She had none). Her head barely brushed to meet any of their shoulders and Emerson was beginning to suspect Rena had placed her in the center so she would barely be seen, barely be noticed, by those around them. It was smart, but made her feel small nonetheless.

"When we get to Menyr's apartment we'll refer to Emerson as Ems. Not that big of a difference, but enough to were questions won't be asked." Rena's sultry voice rolled over their small group.

"And if they ask?" Ezra quirked a brow, knocking his elbows back behind his head, fingers locked at the base of his neck.

"Rookie in training."

Emerson frowned. "Can I not just be considered a consultant?"

Rowan, the one she knew least of all, gazed at her. Though, she had no idea what the fae thought as she could read nothing in Rowan's face. "No. We don't bring in consultants, so that would only raise brows. As Oleander's finest we've allowed pride to get the better of us and thus we rarely ask for outside help."

"When was the first time you guys asked for outside help?"

"After a couple of certain witches found themselves at a party where someone was almost murdered." Rena glanced over her shoulder to look at the Crystal Witch. Grey eyes glittered like shattered glass in the sunlight that bled over Rena's angelic features, causing Emerson's heart to beat unsteadily in her chest at the realization.

"Oh,"

She snapped her eyes away, heat rushing to her cheeks. Emerson knew the tips of her ears were burning red already. She heard, just as much as she felt, Rena's amusement. But she also picked up a undercurrent of something akin to sadness sweep through the siren. Am I being too harsh? Maybe she was, but Rena had lied to her—a rather big lie, too—and had broken her trust in her. But she's obviously been in as much as pain as you have, Emerson's unruly heart objected. She wished Vela or Rosalyn was here to smack some sense into her. Sometimes grudges needed to be let go ...

Emerson brushed her knuckles against the back of Rena's, tentatively skimming the surface of the siren's emotions. She felt the rose quartz pendant around her neck flare with heat. Love. Maybe it was love or maybe it wasn't, but it meant Rena still felt something genuine for her. Rena didn't pull away from the contact, instead she returned the gesture.

"We need to keep this as quiet as possible. This is the fourth death and divine are beginning to question the stability of the Guards as it looks like we haven't gotten any closer to finding the murderer." Hari adjusted the bag strung over his shoulder. She was curious as to what was in the bag, but from the greens poking out from the corner she could assume he held an assortment of plants inside. (What he was going to use them for she wasn't sure and she wasn't about to ask. Even though the dragon was kind and warmhearted to everyone, he was still an imposing figure and Emerson liked how she looked now).

"If only people knew how much actually went into hunting down a murderer." Andre shook his head, miffed. "Try a magical bastard at that."

"Not to mention there's a whole lot more going on than just murders." Ezra grumbled his agreement. "We might be the Five, but we're not the Originals—we don't have the ungodly powers they do."