“You can still change your mind,” I replied bitterly.
“It has been decided, Harley. Discussing it further won’t change anything. These children will not be safe here, no matter what you may think. Would you have them stolen again, and used for Katherine’s twisted purposes?”
“No,” I mumbled.
“I didn’t think so. None of us wants that. This is why you must let us take them.” She turned to Louella and Marjorie. “Now, what is your decision? You are old enough, and wise enough, to make your own choices.”
“I’m going to stay here,” Louella said sheepishly. She couldn’t meet Imogene’s steady gaze.
Marjorie nodded. “I’ll stay here too, for now. I need some time to think.”
“Take all the time you need, girls. I am never far. If you decide you’d like to come with us, ask Alton to get in touch with me, and I’ll come and collect you.” She flashed her most charming smile at the other children. “Come, we have lovely rooms waiting for you. You will be safe, at last—somewhere that Katherine will never find you.”
They didn’t take much convincing. Slowly, they trailed after her, leaving the rest of us in the empty prison corridor.
Twenty
Harley
Astrid, Santana, and I stayed behind in the prison corridor for a few hours and helped scour the area for anything the security teams might have missed regarding Quetzi, while Alton and Wade went off to make sure the kids were safely delivered through the mirrors. Marjorie and Louella gave us a hand putting all the kids’ stuff to one side, though they didn’t say much. The whole event had thrown us all into silence. I couldn’t come to grips with this stricter side of Imogene. I mean, I knew she had to be some kind of bureaucrat to have worked her way up to the Mage Council, but I’d never seen her have to get tough with anyone.
I wiped my brow as we finished piling up the bedding, lights, and toys. “Hey, I’m going to go upstairs to speak to O’Halloran, see if I can look over the footage from the interview with Kenneth Willow. He might have missed a detail about this spy.”
Santana nodded. “Good idea. We’ll be right behind you once we finish up here.”
“Yeah, we really should broaden our search field again,” Astrid added.
“Whoever this spy turns out to be, I’m going to wring their neck. I might wring Quetzi’s neck, too, for letting himself get snatched like that,” I muttered, flashing an apologetic look at Marjorie. She’d been beating herself up about the vision, and her inability to hold on to the image.
Santana laughed. “Get in line, mi hermana.”
Leaving them to it, I headed upstairs in search of O’Halloran. Alton would’ve been easier to talk to, but I didn’t want to disturb him while he was getting the kids to safety. Truthfully, I understood why Imogene and Remington had taken them; I just didn’t like the way the National Council had given the order. If the National Council had spoken to Alton first, we could have arranged it and made it less of a shock to those poor children. Instead, they were being dragged from pillar to post again, left in a constant state of confusion and fear. That irked the foster kid in me.
All I could think about was Micah’s hand, grabbing on to my arm in desperation. His terror had bled into me, and I was still struggling to get rid of it.
I set off toward the Security Office, hoping I could track O’Halloran down there. However, halfway down the corridor that led away from the living quarters, I skidded to a halt and ducked behind a bronzed dragon. My favorite hiding spot. A short distance away, I spotted Remington talking to Dylan, the children nowhere to be seen. Have they been taken through already? I supposed they’d had plenty of time, but I hadn’t expected the Mage Council minions to stick around after the fact.
“So, you’re still at college?” Remington asked. Bemusement whorled off Dylan as he scanned the corridor, clearly looking for a quick escape route.
“Yeah.”
“And you play football?”
“Yeah.”
Geez, what’s with all the personal questions?
“How are your foster parents? Are they good to you?”
Dylan glanced at Remington suspiciously. “All good, thanks. They’ve got a nice place in the suburbs.”
“Don’t they worry about you being here?”
He shrugged. “Not really. They don’t know much about it. They think it’s a job.”
“You were left at Children’s Services, right?”
Seriously, what was his deal? I could sense a mixture of concern, nerves, and something close to affection flowing off him, though that didn’t make anything clearer.
“A long time ago, yeah.” Dylan spoke slowly, as if not sure how to react to Remington’s barrage of questions.
“And you never found out who left you there.”
“Nope.”
“Didn’t you want to?”
Dylan laughed bitterly. “Not much point. We call it the Dump for a reason. Nobody gets left there because someone’s coming back for them.”
A stab of sadness pierced my heart. Dylan and I knew how the fostering world worked. We’d both seen other foster kids waiting at the windows, and lingering by the doors, hoping their parents would turn up and take them back. Early on, I’d sit on the window ledge in my room and watch the road outside, convinced that a car would pull up with my parents inside it, and they’d walk back into my life.
“I’m sorry about that, Dylan,” Remington said.
“Why would you be sorry?” A challenge flashed in his eyes.
“It must have been hard for you, that’s all.”
Dylan shrugged. “I’m over it. I’ve had good foster homes since then. I don’t have much to complain about. So, my parents didn’t want me—it doesn’t bother me anymore.”
“But you must have wondered?”
“I don’t want to be rude or anything, but what’s with all the questions? Do you know something I don’t? Something you want to tell me?”
My ears pricked up in anticipation of Remington’s answer.
Remington dropped his gaze. “Imogene chided me for being so rough with that child earlier. So, I want to better understand what it’s like for those foster kids, given that we’re taking so many under our wing. I thought you could provide some personal insight.”
“I don’t see you asking Harley all of this stuff,” he retorted.
“No, she’s a little too… how shall I say this—spiky. Besides, we know who her parents are now, and yours are still unaccounted for. That’s why I was asking if you’d ever wondered who they were.”
Dylan frowned, his eyes softening slightly. “When I was a kid, yeah, but I’m not a kid anymore. They must have had their reasons for leaving me there, and that’s on them. Even if they walked through that door right now, I wouldn’t care. It wouldn’t change anything.”
Remington fidgeted with his hands. “Even if the reasons were good ones?”
“Even if the reasons were good ones. You can be anywhere in the world and still write a letter.”
“Yes… I suppose you’re right.” Remington glanced toward the adjoining corridor. “Well, I’ve taken up enough of your time. I should probably get back to the Assembly Hall and make sure all the paperwork is complete.”
“Yeah, you do that,” Dylan replied coolly. “Can I say one thing before you go?”
Remington nodded. “Anything.”
“Make sure those kids know that they belong, okay? They’ve been moved around enough—make sure this is the last time. If you can find them homes after all of this is over, then do that, but only if you can guarantee they won’t have to move again. Keep them in a coven if you have to—just don’t drag them around anymore.”
“I will see to it,” Remington said, chastened.
“Good.”
Dylan stood there a while longer as Remington walked away. Steeling myself, I stepped out from behind the dragon. He looked up in surprise as I approached, though I was glad he hadn’t noticed me lurking in the s
hadows. Eavesdropping wasn’t a good look on anyone.
“How’s it going down there?” he asked. “Astrid called me a while ago. I was just on my way to join you. I think the rest of the Rag Team are coming to help search for Quetzi, too.”
“It’s slow,” I admitted. “I was about to go and find O’Halloran when I saw you… and Remington.”
A strange expression moved across his face, his emotions going on the defensive. “You heard that, huh?”
“Hey, I agree with everything you said. I hate to sound like an old woman, but those kids need stability. We’ve both been in their position, not knowing where we might be when we wake up. I’d like to see them taken care of, even if that means they can’t stay here at the SDC.”
He smiled. “Me, too.”
“But why was he asking you all those questions? They seemed kind of personal.”
He shrugged. “I’m not sure what his deal is. Could you feel his emotions?”
“Yeah, a big old jumble of stuff.”
“Bad stuff?”
“No, not particularly.”
“If he ever comes back here, I’ll have to see if he continues being so nosy,” Dylan said, in his casual way.
“You should probably keep tabs on that,” I agreed. “So, did you move around a lot when you were a kid? Sounded like it, if you don’t mind me saying.”
“Yeah. I don’t think I stayed in the same place for more than a year, maybe.”
“The longest I managed was two years, and that was with the Smiths. You know, I wish I could’ve ended up with them earlier. They’re the kind of foster family we all dream about, the ones who just might adopt us.”
“That kind of family always come too late though, don’t they?” He sounded sad. “My foster parents are like that, but it’s the same for me—I wish I could’ve found them earlier so I didn’t get hauled across the state as a kid.”
I nodded. “School was the worst thing for me. I never settled anywhere.”
“Nah, school was always my safe place. I think it’s the football thing. If you’re on the team, you fit in.”
“See, everyone always said I should’ve been sportier,” I said, with a wry laugh. “I was always the weirdo, even before my abilities started seeping out. I guess I give off that vibe—you know, the foster kid vibe.”
“No way. Kids are just mean sometimes, I think,” he replied. “It’s like everyone’s trying to find their place, and they imitate what they see so they can feel like they fit in. Take bullies for example—usually, they’re the ones with the deepest issues. You go through their front door at home, and nine times out of ten, they’re getting beaten by their dad or hounded by their brother or screamed at by their mom. So, they turn around and do the same to kids at school. Or their parents are working all hours of the day and they’re latchkey kids who have to fend for themselves. I’m not saying it’s an excuse, but one of my coaches used to have a saying, that ‘hurt people hurt people.’ I guess that kind of stuck with me.”
“I didn’t have you down as the poetic type,” I said.
He grinned. “I can whip out a clever line when the moment’s right. Tatyana makes me want to spew poetry all the time, but she’d probably just make fun of me. Man, I kind of like it when she does that, though. Is that weird?”
“No, I think that’s the Tatyana Effect,” I replied, chuckling. It brought Jacob to mind. “Although, if you’re going to get poetic, I’d suggest using a word other than ‘spew.’ Word vomit isn’t exactly sexy.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Anyway, I should let you get to O’Halloran before the others start to think we’re both shirking.”
I smiled at him. “If you ever need to talk about this stuff, you know you can come to me, right?”
“I will. Thanks, Harley,” he said. “I’m glad we talked.”
“Cool, then I’ll see you downstairs in a bit?”
“See you then.” With a funny salute, he set off down the corridor, headed toward the prison hallway. Returning to my own task of finding O’Halloran, I continued to wonder why Remington was taking such an interest in Dylan. He’d done the same thing the last time he was here, staring at Dylan as though he had a secret he couldn’t mention. It seemed like a lot more than professional courtesy.
Are they related, maybe, and Dylan doesn’t know? I pictured Remington’s face, but the similarities weren’t obvious enough for them to be tied together like that. Then what’s the secret, Remington?
Shrugging it off, realizing it was none of my business, I hurried down the corridor.
I’d almost reached the Security Office when two familiar voices made me halt. Wade and Imogene were walking across the intersection up ahead, coming from the Assembly Hall. I ducked back behind the archway nearby and watched them head up the northern corridor. What’s he doing with her? More to the point, why had both Remington and Imogene come back to the SDC, so soon after leaving with the kids? Paperwork and last checks seemed like the most logical solution, but I was eager to find out for sure. Plus, the jealous streak in me didn’t like seeing them so close. Call me petty, but that was how I felt.
After watching Wade and Imogene walk further ahead, I ducked out of my hiding spot and followed them at a distance.
A few minutes later, they turned into a room on the right. From what I knew of the coven layout, it didn’t lead to anywhere interesting, just one of the side offices that the staff used when they wanted some privacy from the coven. Wade followed Imogene inside, the door left ajar. I slowed to a creeping walk. Crouching down and peering through the gap, praying I didn’t get caught, I glimpsed Wade’s back.
“Stella and Channing spoke very highly of you, and they have recommended you for an apprenticeship position with us at the Mage Council,” Imogene said. “I happen to agree that your future is in need of brightening, and I want to discuss that possibility with you.”
“I know, but I don’t understand why you picked me instead of one of the others,” Wade replied. A green-tinged arrow of jealousy shot through me. Yeah, Imogene, I’d like to know that, too. From what I could sense, despite his obvious reluctance, Wade was crushing hard on Ms. Whitehall. The feel of it flowing from him did nothing to ease my jealous streak. I mean, next to the glorious, Norse-goddess-esque stature of Imogene, I might as well have been a toad.
“You have untapped potential, Wade, and I worry that it’s being wasted here,” she explained silkily. “I know that Levi is eager to have you, and I share his enthusiasm. You’re gifted, Wade, and you’re of excellent lineage. You could be tremendous, if given the right guidance.”
My heart stopped as she rose from her chair and moved around to Wade’s side of the desk. Moving like a ballet dancer, she edged closer to him. She paused less than a yard from where he stood, leaning elegantly against the mahogany. I could hardly breathe, watching them together. Judging from Wade’s body language, neither could he.
“You think I’m not getting the right guidance here?” he asked, his voice thick.
She smiled. “I think you’re getting excellent guidance, but there are limits to what the SDC can offer you, and you’re at an age where you need to make some difficult choices. A successful career awaits you, but you have to take the right opportunities.”
“Like an apprenticeship?”
She shrugged. “That is one of the options, yes.”
“Can we talk about this another time? I need to meet with my team soon.”
“See, this is precisely what I mean. You have the makings of a superb leader.”
He glanced away shyly. “Can I think about what you’ve said and get back to you?”
“Certainly. Maybe you’d care to join me for a drink, one day next week?”
His eyebrows shot up, and my eyes nearly fell out of my head. “A drink? I’m not sure if that’s appropriate, Ms. Whitehall. I mean, I’m flattered by the offer, but… well, I kind of like someone else, and I don’t want her to get the wrong impression by my going on a date with
another woman.”
Imogene laughed, placing her hand over her heart. “Goodness, Wade. I didn’t mean a drink in the romantic sense. I merely meant would you like to join me for a drink so that we can discuss business—as in, your future. Coffee or tea, not champagne and strawberries.” Her smile lit up the room and sent Wade’s cheeks a furious shade of beet. I clamped a hand to my mouth, stifling a giggle. Man, that’s embarrassing… Although my own cheeks had flushed with heat after what he’d said about liking someone else. I really hoped he meant me.
“Oh, my God, I’m so sorry. I thought—”
“It’s fine, Wade. I’m actually a little flattered to know I’ve still got it!” She laughed lightly. “As for this girl you like, I suggest you hurry along and tell her. Women don’t enjoy the chase as much as you might think, and they certainly don’t like to be kept waiting when it comes to matters of the heart.” She smiled again, patting him on the arm as if he were a mischievous schoolboy. “If she could see you right now, I’m certain she’d be impressed by your loyalty.”
I grinned like an idiot. Even faced with a misinterpreted offer of a date from Imogene freaking Whitehall, he’d turned her down for me. At least, I wanted that “someone else” to be me. Still, how the heck could I know, when he hadn’t said a word about it? A near-kiss and a lingering hug didn’t mean anything without the big guns of love to back it up.
My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I took it out. Astrid’s name flashed on the screen, with a text underneath: Are you coming back? Found something you wanna see.
It was the perfect excuse to interrupt Wade and Imogene, without it looking like I’d been eavesdropping on their intimate little meeting. My jealousy had evaporated, leaving a fuzzy glow of hope from Wade, and a bit of guilt toward Imogene. She wasn’t being a cougar, just a Council official with a job to do. I guessed I’d gotten a little too caught up in her attitude back in the prison corridor, which had shown me a different, less-patient side to her. We’d made things difficult for her and, by proxy, the frightened kids—of course she was going to get a little pissed at us. Plus, she had a point about their safety. We’d been compromised, after all. It had just hurt to see Micah taken away.
Harley Merlin 4: Harley Merlin and the First Ritual Page 23
