Chapter 40 - Ashby

Ashby was the last one out of Greg’s apartment. He shut the door behind him and tried to put Brooke’s words out of his mind, even as they rang in his ears over and over again.

I assure you, she’s not in love with Ashby.

It should have come as no surprise. From the moment he first met Sam, he’d seen her infatuation with Greg. With their Companion vinculum out of the way, what else could be expected?

Two months ago, for a few precious hours, Ashby had known bliss. She had morphed, their link had formed and Morphid nature had taken its course. She’d wanted to be with him, had gone to Rothblade Castle of her own accord, willing to leave Greg behind. If only they’d had more time, her deviant attraction to her Keeper would have been forgotten.

But Danata hand ruined it all, had severed any chance at happiness Ashby had once had.

Damn you, Mother. You deserve whatever punishment Roanna brings down on you.

Ashby held on to the railing and went down the stairs. The others had moved on to the adjoining parking lot and were talking in hushed tones.

“If anyone says anything, we’ll tell them you’re meditating,” Brooke said. “We’ll sit around you and act like a new-age loving bunch. We can hold hands and even sing kumbaya. It’ll be fine.”

The sun shone brightly above. The complex and parking lot were quiet and nearly empty. Everyone was at work or school. They had nothing to worry about.

Shrugging in agreement, Calisto sat down on the sidewalk and went into a trance for the third time. They stood around her and waited without saying a word. Ashby clenched and unclenched his fists, digging his fingernails into the palms of his hands with every squeeze. The pain anchored him in the moment, keeping at bay the emptiness that still pushed around him.

He bit his tongue several times to hold back the bitter words that flooded his mouth. He wanted to quit searching for Sam. Why go after her? What hope was there for him, if she was in love with Greg? What would he get from her? A pathetic explanation? A handful of useless excuses? She wouldn’t repair their vinculum, not if she was happy with her Keeper.

Soon, pain wasn’t enough and he was lost in the conflict that raged within him. Time slipped away until he had no sense of how long they’d stood there. His entire being seemed to drift as a force greater than his will pulled at his very soul. He wasn’t supposed to be here. He should have died that day. He still might, if he didn’t get a foothold on the sane side of existence.

“They stopped at that corner and sat there for several minutes,” Calisto blurted out.

“Shit!” Brooke exclaimed. “Could you please not do that? First you look like your dead, next you spring back into life. It’s freaky.”

Calisto ignored the comment, stood and strode down the parking lot toward the exit that spilled onto the adjacent road.

They filed behind her like ducklings after their mother. When they got there, Calisto sat at the base of the stop sign on the corner and immediately went into a trance.

“What the hell?” Brooke said.

Joao exhaled and mussed his hair. “She gets like this after she’s used her skills several times in a row. A bit frantic, is all. She’s fine.”

Brooke stared down at Calisto in disbelief. “She doesn’t plan to find them by going from intersection to intersection, does she? ‘Cause if they headed for Oregon, it’ll take us a lifetime to get there.”

“She’ll follow the trace as long as she thinks it’s reasonable,” Joao said in an exasperated tone. He walked a few paces away, following the sidewalk along the main road.

Cars drove by, their exhaust bathing them in toxic fumes. The drivers and passengers stared, their necks bending out of shape as they moved past. Being among humans always had this effect. It made Ashby bloody uncomfortable. Four Morphids on one random street corner was just too much for these rubberneckers.

Perry stood behind Ashby, arms crossed over his chest. Judging by the intense look in his eyes, he was fuming. He hadn’t liked being told to stay away from Brooke. Normally, Ashby didn’t interfere in Perry’s bedroom affairs, but this couldn’t be allowed. Brooke was Sam’s best friend, and if . . . if he found her and was reunited with her—stupid hope—he didn’t want to feel responsible for the inevitable debacle a relationship between Perry and Brooke would turn out to be.

Ashby turned away from the others. Shame flooded his chest. How could he be so stupid to hope for anything to still linger between him and Sam? He knew his face had turned red from embarrassment, and tears didn’t feel far behind. He didn’t want anyone to see him like this and find out just how defeated and impotent he felt.

He struggled not to call the search off. He was a coward, but no one else needed to know that. Even if Sam wasn’t for him, she had a right to know her real parents were alive. Who was he to get in the way of that?

“Well, we are screwed,” Calisto said from her spot by the stop sign.

“Nothing again?” Brooke asked, frustrated.

“I did get something, but it may as well be nothing.” Calisto stood and dusted her backside.

“Well, spill!”

“They headed east. New York City, to be exact. Sam had a feeling there should head there. Seemed like her instincts were guiding her.”

“New York City?” Brooke echoed.

“What’s in New York City?” Joao asked Ashby and Brooke.

“The hell if I know,” Brooke said. “Sam’s never even visited. Was that all you got?”

Calisto nodded. “Yep.”

“How the hell are we going to find them in that huge-ass place with nothing else to go by?”

“We probably won’t,” Joao said. “But there are birds in Central Park, right? We might as well try.”