Concealed (Unbound, Book 4)

Chapter Forty-Eight

"What am I doing here?" I asked, looking across to where Zach sat.

I stood to cross to Opal but paused as my body swayed, my balance shifting until a wave of dizziness swept through me. Reaching out, I felt the seat behind me and focused on the stillness of the bench to overcome the unsettling feeling until it passed. Looking down, I gasped and crawled onto the bench until I was hunched over and watching the mosaic below swirl its colors until it was unrecognizable.

What the...?

My eyes flitted to Zach, then down again.

I watched as the floor swirled, leaving only a foot untouched before the seating began. The mosaic's colors swirled faster and faster. The colors became unrecognizable, merging to black. It was strange. As quick as the tiles moved, not a ripple appeared on the surface. It was as though I was looking at a lake of churning murky water that was held at bay beneath a hardened surface of epoxy.

Across from me, Zach stood with his hands in the pockets of his suit pants, pacing back and forth across from me, seemingly undeterred by the possibility that he might fall of the ledge and into the sinkhole in front of us. He watched as the floor began to appear like a looking glass. Zach glanced up and then nodded to the nothingness separating us.

"What is this?" I asked.

"Watch," he said and gestured with his chin to look down.

"What—?"

I looked down as an image of my mother appeared, though she looked almost twenty years younger than I remembered. The image was faint at first, like a photograph becoming clear as it developed. As the contrast became sharper, I felt an overwhelming sense of urgency. Panic filled my chest, stealing my breath.

Suddenly, the picture began to play out its scene. I lost who I was, and I felt as though I'd been thrust into my mother's body. I felt her urgency and, even more potently, the power that coursed so freely through her body. It was like the magic had replaced her blood to course through her veins, making me feel like I was pure energy—so unlike how I thought she appeared before she died.

I blinked, taking a deep breath, and when I opened my eyes, everything but the scene had disappeared.

Rushing into the room, Vavila didn't bother turning on the light. Her eyes swept the corners, ensuring there were no shadows Devland could call upon to share what she was doing. Using the sliver of light that shone through the single window, Vavila grabbed a bag from the closet and began rushing around the room that, as the only one in the Manor Devland didn't enter, had become her sanctuary.

She jumped as the door opened softly behind her, and Vavila turned quickly as she tried to hide the bag behind her back.

"It's just me," Zachariah said, appraising Vavila.

"You scared me!" she whispered, letting out a deep breath as she brought her bag back in front of her. "I-I'm just packing."

"It's time to leave."

Vavila glanced at Zach quickly and saw the grim set of his mouth, and the urgency she felt was so potent, she could taste it. She grabbed a few trinkets from on top of a dresser and shoved them into the bag—if she couldn't bring the furniture gifted to her from her late parents, she would at least bring the mementos that reminded her of them.

"I know." Vavila wiped an invisible tear from her cheek and tried to keep her voice steady. She knew she had more than enough and none of the items truly mattered, but she despised the thought of leaving them for Devland to touch. She didn't want him to have any part of her, even knowing she was leaving with a part of him that he didn't even know she possessed. After everything she'd pieced together that evening, she would do everything in her power to ensure that he never learned of it, either.