Fragile Brilliance (Shifters & Seers) Read online

  Fragile

  Brilliance

  A Shifters & Seers Novel

  Tammy

  Blackwell

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Published in

  the United States

  Copyright ©2013

  All rights held by the author. All rights reserved. This material may not be reproduced, displayed, modified or distributed without the express prior written permission of the copyright holder. For permission, please contact [email protected]

  Content editor: Gwen Hayes of Fresh Eyes Critique

  Copy editor: Leslie Mitchell of G2 Freelance Editing

  Cover Designer: Victoria Faye Alday of Whit & Ware Designs

  Cataloging Information

  Blackwell, Tammy

  Fragile Brilliance/ Tammy Blackwell - Kindle Edition

  Summary: Maggie McCray has worked her whole life for the opportunity to attend Sanders College. It’s her one chance at becoming a world-renowned artist, and she’s determined nothing will get in her way. But when a murder brings Maggie and her powers to the attention of the Alpha Pack and the tragically handsome Charlie Hagan, her carefully planned future hangs in jeopardy.

  [1. Werewolves - Fiction. 2. Kentucky - Fiction. 3. Colleges and universities - Fiction. 4. Paranormal.]

  For Samantha Newman,

  because she stood strong

  when many would have broken.

  Chapter 1

  By the second day of college, Maggie McCray was already bored with naked people. She found this more than a little surprising since she hadn’t actually seen a naked body besides her own until she moved into the dorms last Friday.

  “Oh my God, can you believe that just happened?” Reid St. James grabbed Maggie’s arm, her eyes opened so wide Maggie worried she would dry out a cornea. “My mother would absolutely die if she knew they allow streakers on campus.”

  “I don’t really think they ‘allow’ them. He did get tackled by the campus police.” It was all rather dramatic with the guy in a Darth Vader mask racing out of Rooke Hall, screaming the words to the national anthem without a stitch of clothing on his body. A cop burst through the doors of the building mere seconds later, yelling for him to stop. He didn’t, which resulted in the cop taking the guy to the ground in the grassy commons where most students congregated between classes. The scene caused foot traffic to come to a complete standstill on the sidewalks.

  “Did you see the triangle with the black dot drawn on his belly?” Reid asked as Maggie tried to wind her way past a group of guys encouraging the cop to “whip out his Taser”. “That was the symbol for the LSH society. They’re like the most exclusive club on campus. Most people don’t even know they exist, and no one other than the members knows what LSH stands for.”

  Reid was very into Sanders University’s secret societies. The Greek system was abolished from campus in the 1980s after a rivalry between two fraternities ended up with two dead kids and a mob of angry parents. According to Reid, there were a few societies that existed on campus before then, but with the sororities and fraternities gone, they really began to flourish. Now everyone who was anyone was invited to join one.

  Since Maggie was a no one, she didn’t pay much attention to the whole thing, but Reid was very much a someone. Or at least, she thought she was. Her dad was the CEO of some security company that went by letters Maggie couldn’t remember, although Reid recited them as if she were announcing her family was in line for the British throne. The St. James family was absolutely dripping with money, as Reid’s Mercedes and closet full of designer clothes could attest, but at Sanders, money wasn’t enough. The school catered to the wealthy, and Reid was finding herself to be a very small Marc Jacobs wallet in a sea of Salvatore Ferragamo purses.

  That didn’t stop Reid from making every effort to become one of the important someones on campus. She was like a repository of information on the popular students. She practically stalked well-known upperclassmen, hanging out at all the spots they were known to frequent, certain one of them would look over, see her sheer awesomeness, and invite her into their inner circle.

  It wasn’t a bad plan, except for the whole sheer awesomeness part.

  “Can you believe someone would do that? I mean, who agrees to run around naked in front of the entire campus?” Reid pushed her Rainbow Dash-colored bangs off her forehead with emerald and ruby-ringed fingers, giving Maggie an unobstructed view of her rolling eyes. “I would never do that. Ever. Not that I’m ashamed of my body, because I’m totally not, but I respect myself too much to streak across campus like some… some…”

  “Streaker?” Maggie suggested.

  “Attention whore.”

  Maggie bit her lip to keep the laughter trapped inside. Reid was chiding someone else for not wearing clothes and seeking out attention? Did she not know people who pranced around in glass dorm rooms in nothing but sheer lace undergarments shouldn’t throw stones?

  And the way Maggie saw it, anyone who obsessed over secret societies and enjoyed having long, involved conversations about the bubble-like quality of her butt and pertness of her boobs would probably pay someone for the chance to do an initiation streak across campus.

  A spattering of applause and wolf-whistles drew Maggie’s attention back to Darth Vader and the poor police officer trying to help him back on his feet. Once Darth was standing firmly, he turned toward the crowd and triumphantly held his shackled hands above his head. The entire quad erupted in cheers. Maggie found herself clapping and laughing along with the others despite herself.

  “Moron.”

  And just like that, Maggie was no longer in the mood to laugh.

  “Davin,” she said with a slight nod of her head before quickly averting her eyes, not because he and Reid were actually doing anything, but because after just a few days, it had become habit.

  Maggie met Davin shortly after getting settled in on move-in day. She had taken a shower to wash away the I’ve-been-carrying-boxes-in-hundred-degree-weather funk, and when she returned to the room wearing only her bathrobe and shower shoes, she found a very naked and very sweaty Reid and Davin testing the springs in Reid’s new mattress. The situation was awful enough, but then the couple decided to go ahead and finish their activities instead of calling it game-over. Since she was awfully close to naked herself, Maggie was forced to hide in the bathroom until the noises finally stopped. When she ventured back into the room, Reid, who was still lacking clothes, made the introductions. Still, it took Maggie a few hours to figure out naked boy’s name was Davin since Reid only referred to him as “my boyfriend,” as if it was his given name.

  In the beginning, Maggie made an effort to befriend Boyfriend despite their unfortunate introduction. He was a sophomore metalworking independent stud
y student, and as a freshman independent study student in the art department, Maggie was eager to find out more about the program. He would have been a great resource… if he ever deigned to speak to her.

  Maggie tried to not let Boyfriend’s lack of communication get to her. As far as she could tell, he was only capable of monosyllabic responses to Reid’s nonstop chatter and the occasional Neanderthal comment, like the remarks Maggie could hear him making to Reid about the size of the streaker’s genitals.

  Boyfriend was a world-class douche, and because Maggie had the best luck on earth, he also happened to be in the Anthropology class she was unfortunate enough to have with her roommate.

  She wondered if it was possible to get a schedule change. It wasn’t as if she really needed Anthropology. It sounded like a made-up class anyway.

  Fortunately, things started looking up the moment they walked into the classroom. Reid gave a middle-school worthy squeal, grabbed Boyfriend, and took off for a pack of girls decked out like a Guess ad, leaving Maggie blissfully alone. She picked out a seat on the opposite side of the room and pulled out her notebook. She was doodling in the margins when a hush fell over the room. She looked up, expecting to see Professor Suddeath ready to start the class, but the instructor wasn’t the focus of everyone’s attention.

  Harper Lee “Scout” Donovan stood at the front of the room, glaring at one empty seat and then another. Pale blue eyes clashed with Maggie’s and Maggie dropped her gaze, embarrassed. She told herself she wasn’t going to gawk, but when Scout Donovan planted herself in the desk next to hers, she couldn’t stop her eyes from wandering over.

  Not staring at someone who looked like Scout was impossible. She reminded Maggie of some long-lost mythical Scandinavian princess. Her skin was like freshly glazed ceramic, a pure, unblemished white; her eyes were just a few shades darker, a hint of blue to distinguish the irises from the whites; and her hair was wild tuft of short, silvery locks sticking out in an artful arrangement atop her head. She was beautiful in a disturbing sort of way. Still, Maggie tried hard to not let her gaze linger any longer than necessary. Being the 4’11” daughter of a half-Japanese, half-Scottish mother and African American father, Maggie knew all too well what it was like to have people pay too much attention to the way you look. It was annoying enough for Maggie. She couldn’t imagine how much worse it had to be for someone as well known as Scout Donovan.

  Two years ago, Scout had been all anyone could talk about. She’d been kidnapped by domestic terrorists and since her grandfather was a US Senator, every media outlet in the world covered the story from every possible angle for weeks on end. If the media went a little crazy over her disappearance, then it completely lost its mind over her rescue. The story was like something from a movie. A family friend, who happened to be a cop, refused to give up on the search, even when everyone else believed she was dead. He dug and dug for information until he finally found a credible lead. Because of his tenacity, the FBI let him come along when they raided the hideout where she was being kept. Toby Hagan was only supposed to be there so Scout would have a familiar face to put her at ease, but then something went wrong. As he was leading Scout from the building, a hidden operative for God’s Army of Defenders shot him in the back of the head, killing him instantly.

  On the television and in newspapers, the focus was on the tragic tale and heroic death of Toby Hagan. But on the Internet, the story took on a different life. There was only one tiny bit of footage of Scout after the incident. She was leaving the hospital when CNN managed to get a shot of her walking across the parking lot. Maybe if she’d looked small and defeated the world would have pitied her, but Scout didn’t look like a girl to be pitied. The muscles lining her too thin frame gave the bruises dotting her pale skin the look of battle wounds. There was no defeat in the way she held herself. Watching her walk across that parking lot, the world knew she wasn’t someone you wanted to mess with. In no way did she look like an innocent young girl who had just been rescued from the bad guys. Instead, she looked like she’d fought her own way out, taking down anything and anyone who got in her way. Less than five seconds of footage and it spawned a dozen different memes. At first they were complimentary. One of the most popular had Scout Photoshopped onto the cover of video games and action movies. But then people got mean, as they often tend to do when they don’t actually have to look the person they’re tormenting in the eye. A year passed and Maggie still couldn’t go online for long without seeing a picture tagged with “Whiter than Scout?”

  While Conan O’Brien, sweater vests, and rugby were all considered a yes, paper, chalk, and snow didn’t make the cut.

  Maggie risked another glance at the pale figure to her left and caught Scout staring back at her. She was about to apologize when Scout asked, “Who are you?”

  “Me?” Maggie looked around to make sure there wasn’t someone of importance standing just over her shoulder. “I’m Maggie. Maggie McCray.”

  “McCray? I don’t know any McCrays.”

  “Sorry…?”

  Scout pushed a piece of her short, spiky hair behind her ear. “You really should have informed us you were going to be here. I mean, I don’t care really, but Liam gets a little worked up over this type of thing. I’ve tried to tell him it’s not like I can’t take care of myself, but he’s a guy, which means his ears don’t work when a female speaks.”

  “Liam?” This conversation wasn’t making any sense whatsoever. No one mentioned Scout coming away from her abduction with a brain injury, but Maggie supposed the girl was entitled to a mental issue or two.

  Scout’s eyes narrowed until only a tiny slice of arctic blue could be seen. “Don’t you dare get all weak-kneed and terrified because I mentioned Liam. We’re equals. He’s not more badass just because he’s a guy. I’m just as scary as he is. Promise.”

  Maggie would’ve happily told Scout she couldn’t imagine anyone more terrifying than a crazy Mila Jovovich, but Dr. Suddeath chose that moment to start lecturing. While he went over the syllabus and explained the college’s academic integrity policy for about the millionth time, Maggie tried hard to ignore Scout, but it was hard since Scout showed no signs of ignoring her. Maggie could feel her eyes on her through the entire class and wasn’t at all surprised when the other girl loomed over her desk the instant they were dismissed.

  “Who are you?”

  Again Maggie glanced over her shoulder to make sure there was no one standing behind her.

  “Maggie McCray,” she repeated.

  Scout leaned in, crowding Maggie’s personal space. “Why didn’t you answer me?”

  “I… I just did.” Definitely a brain injury. “Are you okay? Do I maybe need to call someone for you?” Surely Senator Harper didn’t let her just wander around like this. There had to be a secret service detail or nurse or something to keep her from roaming into the middle of the street and getting run over, right?

  “The hustings is this weekend,” Scout said, sliding something onto Maggie’s desk. “I expect you to be there.” And with that, she turned and walked out of the room.

  Maggie sat and stared at the business card sitting on the middle of her desk. It was plain white with a black paw print and address printed on one side. She flipped it over to find the other side blank. “What the…?”

  “Oh. My. God.” Reid was immediately at Maggie’s shoulder. “Did you just get tagged? By Harper Donovan? How freaking cool is that?”

  Maggie flipped the card over again as if some sort of explanation would magically appear. “Tagged?”

  “That was Harper Donovan. She’s like a rock star.”

  “She was kidnapped by terrorists. That’s not the same as selling out the Staples Arena.”

  “What did she say to you?” Reid’s fingers clamped onto Maggie’s arm hard enough to leave bruises. “Did she give you something?”

  Part of Maggie wanted to be bratty and just slip the card in her pocket, but she handed it to Reid instead. “She invited me to some p
arty or something. I think she was confused.”

  Reid’s eyes narrowed on the card. “Obviously.” Reid rubbed her finger over the embossed paw print. “Mind if I keep it?” she asked, cutting her eyes at Boyfriend as if asking his permission. “You know, since you don’t need it?”

  Maggie probably should have been offended by the obvious cut, but she wasn’t. She didn’t really care what Reid or Scout thought about her, and the last thing she needed was to get caught up in some rich kids’ club. Unlike her perpetually bored classmates, she had better things to do with her time than following esoteric rules just so someone would pretend they liked her. For example, she only had five minutes to make it to the other side of campus before her drawing lab started. With any luck, today’s nude model would be somewhat less wrinkly and smelly than Old Man March from yesterday.

  “Take it,” Maggie said, throwing the strap of her satchel over her shoulder. “It’s yours.”

  Reid bit her bottom lip and snuggled the card against her chest. “Thanks, Mags. You’re the best.”

  She wasn’t. Not yet. But that was why Maggie was at Sanders College. One day, she would be the best, and then people like Reid would be clamoring for her attention and acceptance. Until then, she was on her own. But it was okay. Alone was all she’d ever known.

  Chapter 2

  Charlie Hagan scanned the nearly two hundred faces staring up at him, his fingers tapping out an impatient rhythm. After his third sweep of the room, he dug out his cell phone.

  “Where are you?”

  He waited thirty seconds for a reply. When none came, he typed out the same question again and hit send. He sent the message five times before Layne sent back a response.

  “Jesus. Can I not take a piss w/o u getting all up in my business?”

  “Not when you’re supposed to be attending a hustings,” Charlie typed back. “Get your ass in here now.”