“Are you really so loyal?” Shay asked.
“No, but this is Emeric, Shay,” Serena replied. “He would not turn against us.”
“Accept for a moment that he might. Things begin to appear in a clearer light. Especially lately,” Shay said, glancing at Callie. “When he brought her here, he was intent upon killing her once I determined that she was not to grow wings. But then her Perception swayed him to spare her. He trained her, developed her ability, all for the sake—so he said—of infiltrating the Sirens’ minds. However, he never bothered to find out if she could even use her talent against the Sirens until he had taken stock of it. The day he did take her to the island, he made sure they discovered her, that they knew of her existence. She was no longer a secret weapon.”
“No,” Callie said, shaking her head. “He didn’t mean for that to happen. He got me out as soon as he heard my screams. He just wanted to know if I could have Perceived with them.”
“Perhaps,” Shay said. “But then why did he not have you attempt this upon the girl who became a Siren on the second day of your stay here?”
Callie paused, unable to reply.
“You had already Perceived once,” Shay reasoned. “He knew you could do it. And there was bountiful time between the point of day at which the girl changed and that night when Adeline retrieved her. Why not spare you the risk of going to the island?”
“Make your point, Shay,” Serena said.
“My point is that he has been acting strangely, and I believe it is because he is working with the Sirens,” Shay concluded.
Callie remembered something. “He didn’t seem to mind when Adeline discovered me that day on the forest floor. And then….He said something two nights ago. He said he knew I was going to die ever since he’d seen what had happened on the island.”
“You mean when they beat you to a pulp?” Serena asked nonchalantly.
“That’s what I thought he meant,” Callie agreed.
“Wait,” Shay said. “What else happened on the island?”
“What do you mean?” Callie asked. “I went, I Perceived on one of them, I got beaten up, and then he took me away from there.”
“You Perceived,” Shay said. “Before that, he didn’t know if you could do it to a Siren. Maybe he meant that once he learned that you could—“
“But why would that matter?” Serena asked. “She can do it to Guardians, too.”
Shay’s eyes flitted back and forth across the room. Callie could practically hear her brain spinning, trying to fit the pieces together of a puzzle no one else could see. “There’s something there…” she said.
“Well,” Callie reasoned, “why would he care that I could do it to Sirens? He didn’t seem upset when he realized that I could do it with Guardians.”
“Yeah,” Serena snorted. “Except he was pissed when he learned why.”
Shay’s head snapped up. “That’s it,” she said.
Callie and Serena looked at her for answers.
“You can Perceive upon Guardians because you stopped evolving while still so unlike them. Your mind is not similar enough to a Guardian’s that you are barred from their memories, just as a Guardian’s mind is so different from a human’s that he may witness theirs. It is the dissimilarities which allow us to Perceive upon each other,” Shay said.
“So?” Serena asked.
“So…what if Emeric was hoping that Callie couldn’t Perceive upon a Siren? I mean, if she were a Siren, she wouldn’t be able to Perceive upon one. And then she would actually become a weapon for the Siren community,” Shay said, speaking so rapidly that Callie could barely keep up.
“And then when he learned that she could Perceive upon them….” Serena said.
Shay nodded. “Exactly.”
“Wait a second,” Callie said. “I’m lost.”
Shay turned to her. “He knew you were going to die ever since the day that he took you to the island,” she explained. “He was going to kill you. I would stake my career upon it. As soon as he learned that you were not a Siren, that you could actually hinder the chances of the Sirens’ ability to win the war, he knew that he couldn’t keep you around. But the trouble is, Alex was always with you. Well, either Alex, or I, or Serena or Zeke. You were never alone with him.”
“Actually,” Callie interrupted, about to point out the inaccuracy of that last statement. But she was cut short by slow, rhythmic clapping.
The three women turned to face the newcomer to the room. Emeric stood in the doorway, clapping theatrically, with what Callie could only describe as a satisfied smile upon his face. She caught her breath at the sight of him. He didn’t look like the cool, composed Emeric she’d known. His eyes were wild, ferocious. They glittered with ruthless danger.
“Brava,” he said. “Truly outstanding, even for you, Shay.” He took several slow steps into the room; no one moved.
“Emeric,” Serena said pleasantly. “We were just discussing you.”
“So I heard,” he replied, equally as cordial. He gestured to the door. “Those bridges that Alexander built actually come in handy.”
“How much did you hear?” Shay asked, regarding him as she might an insect beneath her microscope. But Callie saw a twitch of fear under one of her bruises.
“Just about all of it, I should think,” Emeric said, meeting her glare. “I happened to see Serena fly in with our visitor, and decided to see what the fuss was about. I must say, I become more and more impressed by your deductive abilities every day.”
“Is it true?” Callie asked, feeling her gut twist.
A flash of something resembling gravity passed over Emeric’s face, and for a moment that smug smile was lost. But then, without looking at Callie, he responded.
Still staring at Shay, he said, “Yes. It is all true. Though you missed certain parts.”
Serena inhaled sharply. Callie turned to her, surprised by her reaction. She saw the blood slowly drain from the beautiful woman’s face, the blue eyes widen in fear.
“And you will tell us,” Serena said.
Emeric shrugged nonchalantly. “If you like,” he said. He glanced at the clock in Shay’s kitchen. “I have another twenty minutes or so.”
“Twenty minutes until what?” Callie asked.
“You’re going to tell us,” Serena said again, this time more slowly, “because you intend to silence us once you are through.”
“Well, that, and because you have just come so close,” he said, sounding a little tortured. “There are so few details that you have neglected. It would be a shame to leave the story so near completion and not finish it.”
“Why do it?” Serena asked, shaking her head. “Why cross over to their side? It cannot be for want of power; you have plenty of that here.”
“Ha!” Emeric shouted. Callie jumped. “Power? Power to do what, might I ask? I thought that once I received my position as chief, I would have power, it is true. But what has come of it? I spend the centuries dictating orders to protectors so that petty humans may live to see another year, breaking down all the new plans they come up with to kill each other. My life is dedicated to the protection of a subject which seeks to destroy itself. Where is the power in that?”
“So what do the Sirens have to offer you?” Serena asked, lifting her chin. Callie shifted, unsure why Serena was speaking so much.
But then she saw Shay lift her hips a bit, and saw the serrated blade of a long knife perched beneath the sofa cushions.
“The Sirens are not so dedicated to the survival of humans. In fact, they discourage it,” Emeric said. “They understand the stupidity and the mendacity in preserving a species that should have been wiped out long ago. You see, we are not heroes for doing so, as we pretend to be. Rather we are mere deceivers, performing simple slights of hand which—somehow—drag the race through to see another decade. I had been struggling with my own discomfort in my role for generations before the Sirens took me to their island and revealed to me an alternate means of
living, one which values pleasure and the relishing of being gods, rather than acting as simple servants for a people who know nothing of our existence.”
“But why?” Serena asked. “Milo taught you our way of life; why the sudden change of heart?”
Emeric smiled slowly. “Ah, Milo,” he said. “There was a man that people loved. They still do. Even Alexander, who is loyal to no being other than myself, still worships him. Tell me, Serena, just what was it about that particular man which everyone so easily adored? He claimed the position of leader without effort, and the people let him have it.”
“He was a teacher,” Shay said, cutting in. The couch cushion below her lowered as she spoke, hiding the face of the knife once more. “He was the first Guardian, and he ushered each of us through the changes we so hated, created for us a new life in this forest after we were forced to leave behind those we loved. He showed compassion,” she spat.
“So what was the plan?” Serena asked, walking around the couch to stand across from him, eagerly stealing his attention back to her. Callie realized that Shay hadn’t been supposed to interrupt like that. Emeric was supposed to be looking at Serena so that Shay could secretly pull out the knife, hide it in her hold until she had the opportunity to use it. “What, you get rid of the best protectors, have the Sirens attack us and wipe us out, and then you would go live on the island with them? Why not just leave?”
“Because the Guardians are, and always will be, the more powerful people,” Emeric growled, clearly frustrated by Shay’s defense of Milo. “Milo proved that when he obliterated two thirds of the Sirens. I needed to make sure that I was not setting myself up to be murdered. And so I decided to murder you first.”
“You used your position as chief to help you set up for the war,” Serena guessed. “You wanted the circumstances to be right when the Sirens attacked. That’s why Zeke wasn’t supposed to be here. Most of the protectors are on assignment right now. Even Alex would have been gone, I’ll bet, had Callie not been such an issue. Had she grown wings when she was thirteen, and had he taken her to the forest four years ago, you probably would have had him fighting right along Zeke in some valley out there. You did all of it so that we would be as unprepared for war as possible.”
Emeric tipped his head to the side in silent agreement.
“But then why let Zeke stay?” Serena asked. “And why am I not out on assignment?”
“Not to cast you in an unflattering light, Serena, but you were never that skilled as a protector,” Emeric said, his tone mockingly consoling. Serena ground her teeth together. “And I knew as soon as I saw you with Zeke that he would disrupt your ability to fight even further. Moreover, your death might be his downfall. Why pass up the chance to get rid of two of you?”
“And ever since you came back, you’ve been planning that?” Serena asked. “Even when you looked us in the eyes, treated us as your family…you were planning our demise the entire time?”
“I am surprised, Serena,” Emeric said. “I never knew you to be one for sentiment.”
“I’m not one for traitors,” Serena corrected him.
“Well I am not one for martyrs,” Emeric retorted. “Giving up our lives for the cause of humanity never suited me.”
“And yet you would have had Callie be one?” Serena asked. “You would have sent her into battle to die for your cause had she proven to be a Siren.”
“But she wasn’t a Siren,” he said. “I knew that the second she told me she had Perceived upon them. And while it was disappointing, it was hardly surprising. She never had the cutthroat attitude particular to Sirens.”
“So you were going to kill her,” Serena finished.
Emeric hesitated. “Yes,” he said. But he didn’t look at Callie. And his voice wavered a bit too much.
Serena did something then which astounded Callie: she smiled. She took a step nearer to Emeric, so close to him now that they were face to face. “You know what that tells me, Emeric?” she asked.
He narrowed his eyes in suspicion.
She leaned in the last few inches, and murmured, “That she’s the way we can win.”
And that was when everything began to move at once. Suddenly, Shay’s good arm shot forward, almost knocking into Callie. Callie jumped backwards, and saw that the serrated knife had been hauled across the room. Serena caught it behind her back without even looking at it, just as Emeric spun Serena around in a fierce grip, clamping one forearm over her throat, the other hand immediately taking hold of her left wing.
But before he could tear the wing from its place, Serena curled her right arm upwards, the knife gleaming in the purple rays of the setting sun, and drove the knife into Emeric’s neck. He roared out in pain, and Serena used that moment to whirl around and leveled his chest with a vertical kick. Emeric was shoved backwards, and Callie thought for a split second that he would be forced out the door and fall to the forest floor below. But his arms snaked outwards and took hold of either side of the doorframe, and almost instantly he reached up and yanked the knife out of his neck. Deep auburn rivulets began to flow freely from the hole, but he barely seemed to notice. In the next moment, he had catapulted the knife in a perfect spiral so that it soared through the air and into the center of Serena’s sternum.
Serena cried out, staggering backwards half a step, looking down at the knife in shock. That gave Emeric the chance to extend his wings in a rush of motion and surge across the small space between them, lifting off of the ground just enough so that he was above her when he reached her, and was able to reach down with both arms and clamp onto her wings.
Serena, sensing his intent, shoved her legs up into the air, circling in an awkward backflip, thrusting her knees into Emeric’s chest mid-arc. The movement thrust him across the rest of the room, using his own momentum against him. He was driven head-first into the far wall, shattering the woodwork so that fireworks of deeply-carved cracks erupted from the boards. His head snapped backwards as the rest of his body surged forwards, and Callie heard the distinct cracking of his neck being broken.
For a second, he lay in a pile, his skull resting at an awkward angle. Callie drew a shaky breath, certain that he was dead. He was so still, his eyes open and glazed, staring at the forest.
But then Serena ran over to Shay and hissed, “How long do we have?”
“He must have broken his C1 or C2,” Shay replied. “I would estimate about five minutes until it heals and he is conscious again.”
Serena nodded, and squeezed her eyes shut, grabbing the handle of the knife as she took a deep breath. She pulled it out in a sudden, swift movement, oddly reminiscent of someone ripping off a Band-Aid, and screamed a muffled, furious cry as blood began to pour forth.
Callie gasped. But Serena didn’t acknowledge her reaction.
Instead, Serena turned to Shay again and said, “I am going to go for help. I will be back within that time.”
Shay hesitated, and then cast a fearful glance at the crumpled hill of Emeric’s body, but replied, “Alright.”
Serena was gone before the word was half-spoken. Callie felt a shiver of imminent danger run through her. “What if she isn’t back in time?” she whispered.
Shay swallowed. “Then he will kill us.”
Chapter Twenty Five
Beginnings
“What if we move him?” Callie asked. “We could throw him out the door.”
She was pacing now across the living room, dreading every sound, every second that passed by. She knew with indescribable clarity that he would wake up before Serena returned. And, while it was difficult to believe that he could actually kill them, his friends, she had seen the way he had fought with Serena. He was merciless, fatal. He hadn’t hesitated when he’d seen an opportunity to kill her. He wouldn’t, Callie was beginning to suspect, hesitate to kill them, either.
“No,” Shay said. “Doing so could easily help with the realignment of his spine. He could awaken sooner if we accidentally help him heal.”
“Well we can’t do nothing,” Callie said.
Shay exhaled slowly. “I can’t do anything besides lay here,” she said with frustration. “And you are too weak to divest him of his wings. There is nothing we can do.”
Callie blanched at the suggestion that she would kill him if it were possible.
Something shuffled the leaves outside the window, and Callie jumped. But it was only the breeze.
“How long has it been?” Callie asked softly.
Shay craned her neck to look at the clock in the kitchen. “About three minutes. Do you see the way his bruises are beginning to turn purple? That means that he is likely close to being healed.”
“Great,” Callie said, though it sounded like a curse.
Shay was quiet for a few seconds, and then she said, “Go into the kitchen. In the cupboard there is a blue glass bottle with no label. Bring that, and a pack of matches from the flower pot on the windowsill, into this room.”
Callie froze. She would have asked why, but she saw that it was becoming difficult for Shay to speak. And so she walked into the kitchen. She opened three cupboards before she found one with an unlabeled blue bottle. And then she searched through the several flower pots on the windowsill, each blossoming with pungent green or purple leaves, until she found a pack of matches partially concealed in the dirt of one. She brought them back into the living room.
“Here,” she said, offering them to Shay.
But Shay didn’t reach for them. Instead, she winced as she leaned over the side of the couch and retrieved the knife Serena had dropped onto the ground.
“Take this,” Shay said, pressing the knife into Callie’s palm. “Now go over to where he is laying. Douse him liberally with the liquid from the bottle.”
“Why? Shay, what is this?” Callie asked.
“Do as I say,” Shay commanded, her face turning a sickly shade of white.
And so Callie walked over to Emeric’s body, hesitating after each step, feeling her heart begin to pound as she neared him. She imagined him springing to life and lunging at her, realized how close she was to what could be her murderer.
The Guardian (Callista Ryan Series) Page 30
