Chapter 2: Trial by Moonlight
The ride to the Water Tower was a blur of streetlights and silent tension. Sera drove a nondescript black SUV, her gaze fixed ahead, one hand resting lightly on the wheel, the other never far from the hilt of the sword she’d somehow concealed beneath a long trench coat. Liana sat stiffly in the passenger seat, her scrubs stained with werewolf saliva and speckled with glass from the shattered lights. She kept staring at her hands, turning them over as if the answer might be written on her palms. They looked normal. They felt normal. But they’d glowed. They’d thrown a full-grown monster across a room.
“Stop doing that,” Sera said, her voice cutting through the hum of the engine.
“Doing what?”
“Looking for a sign. It’s not written on your skin. It’s in your blood. And we’re about to spill it, metaphorically speaking. So get your head straight.”
They didn’t enter through the tourist entrance. Sera pulled into a subterranean garage several blocks away, led Liana through a maze of service corridors, and finally to a heavy, unmarked steel door. A keypad glowed softly. Sera input a code, placed her palm on a smooth stone inset beside it, and the door slid open with a whisper of ancient hydraulics.
Inside, the historic Water Tower was nothing like its public exterior. The old limestone walls remained, but they soared upward into a vaulted ceiling lost in shadow. Modern, silent screens displayed shifting glyphs and maps of the city layered with glowing ley lines. The air was cool, smelling of ozone, old parchment, and a faint, cold scent Liana couldn’t place—like stone and static electricity.
In the center of the cavernous space stood a large, irregular table hewn from dark wood. Around it, figures waited.
Liana’s breath hitched. There were seven of them. A tall man with bark-like skin and eyes like chips of amber. A woman whose form seemed to subtly shift at the edges, her hair the color of lake mist. A broad-shouldered man with a trimmed beard and the unmistakable, watchful stillness of a predator—a werewolf, but in control. Others, their natures less obvious but no less potent. And at the head, two seats stood out.
One was occupied by Seraphina, who took her place with a nod, her silvery wings now folded tightly and vanished from sight, though her golden eyes burned with an unearthly light.
The other was occupied by him.
He was elegant in a way that felt anachronistic, dressed in a suit that probably cost more than Liana’s student loans. Dark hair, pale skin, a face that was all sharp, beautiful angles. He didn’t move, but his presence was a weight in the room, a gravitational pull. When his eyes met hers, they were a deep, fathomless red, with irises that held a faint, internal glow. Matthias Thorne.
“The mortal from the incident,” the bark-skinned man said, his voice a dry rustle. “Step forward.”
Sera gave her a slight nudge. Liana walked until she stood at the foot of the table, feeling smaller than ever in her cheap sneakers and bloodied scrubs.
The questions began, rapid and sharp, from different voices.
“Name.”
“Liana Carter.”
“Age.”
“Twenty-three.”
“Occupation.”
“I’m a nurse. At Chicago General. ER.”
“How long have you been aware of your abilities?” This from the mist-haired woman.
“I wasn’t. Not until tonight. I just… I saw him changing, and I panicked. The light just… came out.”
“Describe the sensation.”
“It was warm. Like a… a rush. Starting in my chest and going out through my hands. It wasn’t painful. It felt… right. Which is insane.”
Matthias spoke for the first time. His voice was smooth, cultured, with an undercurrent of something darkly melodic. “Insanity is often just a new perspective, Miss Carter. Tell us of your lineage. Your parents.”
Liana swallowed, her mouth dry. “I don’t know. I was adopted as a baby. The records are sealed. My parents—my adoptive parents—are great. They’re normal. An accountant and a teacher. They don’t know anything about this.”
A glance passed around the table. The werewolf councilman leaned forward, his nostrils flaring slightly. “No scent of deception. She believes it.”
“A latent, then,” the bark-skinned man mused. “Triggered by extreme proximity to a transformative lycanthropic event. Rare, but not unprecedented.” He turned his amber gaze to Sera. “Enforcer Veridian. You witnessed the emission. What is your assessment?”
All eyes shifted to Sera. She looked at Liana, her expression unreadable. “The power signature had hallmarks of celestial origin. The glow, the concussive force, the way it temporarily stunned the beast’s chaotic magic. It’s similar to that of an Aasimar.” She paused, and her jaw tightened slightly. “But the potency for an untrained, unaware latent? It shouldn’t have been possible. And the color was wrong. Our light is silver, or white. Hers was… gold. Deep, sun-metal gold. So, no. I am uncertain as to what she really is.”
The word hung in the air. Uncertain. In this room, it sounded like a threat.
In this room, it sounded like a threat.
The amber-eyed councilor nodded slowly. “We require privacy to deliberate. Enforcer, escort her to the antechamber.”
Sera’s hand was on Liana’s elbow immediately, guiding her back toward the heavy door. No one spoke as they left. The door sealed behind them with a final, quiet click, leaving Liana in a small, plain room with a single bench and a strange, sound-absorbing quality to the walls. She could hear nothing from the chamber beyond.
“What are they going to do?” Liana asked, her voice too loud in the muffled space.
Sera leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “They’ll weigh risk against utility. They’ll decide if you’re a potential asset or an unacceptable danger.” She looked at Liana, her golden gaze analytical. “Matthias will advocate for study. The Fae will be wary of an unknown. The Lycans will want you contained. My vote is already cast.”
“What did you vote?”
“To train you. A weapon you don’t understand is a weapon that goes off in your hand. I’d rather know where you’re pointed.”
The wait felt interminable. Liana sat on the bench, picking at a dried stain on her scrubs. She thought about her apartment, her half-dead succulent, the laundry she’d left in the washer. That mundane life was already gone, severed the moment that golden light left her hands. The door slid open again far too soon.
“They’re ready for you,” Sera said.
Walking back to the table felt like walking the plank. The council members’ faces were unreadable masks. Matthias steepled his pale fingers, a faint, uninterpretable smile on his lips. The head councilor, the one with bark-like skin, spoke.
“Liana Carter. The Council has reached a consensus. Your manifestation poses a significant unknown. Until such time as your nature and control can be determined, you will be placed as a ward under the supervision and training of Enforcer Seraphina Veridian.”
Liana’s heart, which had been pounding, seemed to stutter. “Supervision? For how long?”
“Indefinitely,” the werewolf councilman stated, his tone leaving no room for debate.
“And my life? My job, my apartment?” The words tumbled out, edged with panic. “You can’t just… appoint me a babysitter.”
“We can,” the Fae woman replied, her misty hair drifting. “The Veil that protects our society from mortal awareness is paramount. An untrained latent is a walking breach. Your previous life is a contingency you can no longer afford.”
A cold clarity cut through Liana’s shock. “Do I have any choice in this?”
The bark-skinned councilor’s expression remained unchanged, a carving of weathered wood. “You do not,” he said, the finality in his voice as solid as stone. “Council is adjourned.”
The figures around the table rose, their movements a study in controlled power, conversations resuming in low tones that excluded her completely. The mist-haired Fae simply dissolved into the shadows near the wall. Liana stood frozen, the dismissal hitting her like a physical blow. Sera was already moving toward her, a directive clearly forming on her lips, when a smooth, calm voice cut through the ambient noise.
“A moment of your time, Miss Carter? Before you’re swept away by our diligent enforcer.”
Matthias Thorne had appeared beside her without a sound. He offered a slight, old-world bow that felt both genuine and subtly mocking. “I realize introductions were lacking in all the earlier drama. Matthias Thorne. I have the honor of representing the city’s vampiric interests on this council.”
“Vampire. Right.” Liana’s voice was flat. The word felt absurd, even after everything.
“Count, technically, but titles are so stifling.” He gave a dismissive wave. “I wished to apologize for the rather heavy-handed verdict. They see a problem to be managed. I see a fascinating puzzle. Your unique… presentation.”
He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. “And while Seraphina is undoubtedly skilled with a blade, her methodology for uncovering metaphysical mysteries can be a bit blunt. I, however, have something of a specialized touch.” A faint, charming smile played on his lips. “I am, after all, something of an expert in matters of blood.”
The pun was so deliberately bad, so oddly timed, that a surprised chuckle escaped Liana’s throat. It felt foreign, a crack in the shell of her panic.
Matthias’s smile widened, his crimson eyes glinting. “There, see? Not all of this must be grim portent and divine judgment. If you’re willing, I could offer a more analytical approach. Come by my penthouse tomorrow evening. I’d like to draw a small sample for a proper analysis. Strictly clinical, I assure you.” He paused, his gaze flicking meaningfully to his own hands. “No fangs necessary.”
Another terrible pun. Yet, the offer felt like a lifeline, a semblance of choice where none had existed seconds before. He was talking to her, not about her. He was asking, not commanding.
“I… yeah. Okay. I can do that,” Liana heard herself say. The agreement felt reckless, but Sera’s stern presence loomed, a reminder of the only other path offered.
“Excellent.” Matthias produced a simple, black card from his jacket with an address embossed in silver. “Eight o’clock. I’ll have the… equipment ready.” He gave her a final, appraising look. “Until then, Miss Carter.”
He melted back into the departing crowd, leaving Liana holding the card. Its surface was cool, almost cold. She turned to find Sera standing a few feet away, her golden eyes fixed on the spot where Matthias had been.
“That was unwise,” Sera stated, her voice low.
“He asked. He didn’t tell. It’s a difference.”
“It’s a strategy.” Sera sighed, the sound one of pure exasperation. “Fine. Your first lesson starts now. You’re coming with me. We need to secure your apartment, explain your abrupt leave of absence from the hospital, and then we begin.”
“Begin what?”
“Finding out what that gold light really was,” Sera said, already walking toward the steel door. “Before it gets you, or someone else, killed."