Lightning In My Wake (The Lightning Series) by Lila Felix Page A

wait.”
    We meandered through the great home. I stopped to look at the paintings on our way through the hall. One was of my grandmother.
    “Rebekah,” Collin said with an air of reverence. “Your grandmother is the wisest of all the Prophets. But it is only in the halls of records that she is respected as she should be.”
    The picture of my grandmother was encased in a frame made of golden filigree. She was younger, her hair revealed the generation in which the painting was completed.
    “You knew her?”
    He patted my back. “Know, young female, know. Just because something is deemed unworthy by a group of people, doesn’t make it less loved.” Then he winked at me. An unfounded giggle erupted from my mouth. Collin was handsome up close. From far away I couldn’t get past his overgrown stature to see it. But now, when I turned and he was bent over targeting his words to my ear, I could clearly see it. His jaw was rugged and his eyes were the deep brown of someone who had a tiny bit of rebel in them.
    Collin had a little bit of anarchy brewing inside him. I could see it.
    Theo was in such trouble.
    “Onward, good s ir,” I motioned as I felt a new camaraderie with him and showed it by linking my arm through his. Theo shot a questioning look my way but I ignored it. There was no way to explain to him the glimmer I’d seen in Collin without sounding any more right field than I usually did.
    “Are there no pictures of Eivan and Sevella?” I questioned the two of them.
    “There are in Tibet. There’s a monk there who is descended from Eivan’s advisor, Winchester—he commissioned painters to paint their portrait for one of their anniversaries. He also has some personal artifacts, but it would take some coercing to let us see them.”
    C oercing was my specialty.
    We entered the multi-storied library and I gasped. It was bigger and more magnificent than anything I could’ve imagined. In truth, I’d thought it would be more—cave -like.
                  It was grand—a library fit for a king.
                  “Where are the records on Sevella?” I prompted.
                  Both men glared at me.
                  “Don’t look at me like that. A woman usually has a more—emotional, detailed account of things. Men usually float over the details.”
                  Collin nodded in understanding. He stalked over to a stack already set on a table and brought all the books over to me. He outlined the stacks, giving me an overview of where I could find what. Theo stood nearby and oversaw the whole ordeal but he looked anxious—preemptive. The books were enormous volumes that smelled of the rich history of our race. History drove me. I could recite the old laws instead of the Preamble to the United States Constitution by the time I was seven. Each was leather-bound with gold writing and matching gold filigree, which struck me as indicative. This is what the Synod wanted us to believe.
    Were these the pretty lies Rebekah spoke of?
    If someone were to lie to an entire race of people, certainly covering it with leather in intimidating-sized books would be the way to convey truth.
    I opened the first book and gently turned it to the section, or near the section, Collin showed me. He’d presented so many things, I couldn’t keep track. Theo’s eyes widened and ping-ponged between the books and Collin.
    “What is your deal?” I asked a little louder than necessary. The squawk resounded through the halls in high pitched echoes carrying with it the level of my irritation.
    “You’re not gonna do the gloves and the ‘don’t breathe on anything’ routine? What the hell, man?”
    His earlobes had gone completely red and that vein was working an angry rhythm on the side of his neck. Whatever Collin had done was really jerking his nerves. But it didn’t matter what it was, Theo was out of line.
    “Theo!” I berated him. This guy had been ‘relieved’ of