by L. M. Pruitt
Polite. Diplomatic. I should have known someone would screw it up.
“We would have discussed these concerns with you nearly two hours ago, if you hadn’t been otherwise…occupied.” I didn’t need to be a psychic of any flavor to know the tall, cold blonde woman with the perfect Uptown accent belonged to Lies and Guile. Even if they’d been her polar opposite in looks, they all possessed the same better than you, snotty bitch attitude that instantly made me want to knock a tooth or ten out. Ignoring the ice sculpture, I turned my attention to the woman in the room who seemed like she might be calm under the upset. “I’m sorry. I don’t know everybody’s names, or their relatives, yet. It’ll take me a bit, or note cards. Why don’t you tell me why you’re so concerned?”
The woman, who barely looked out of her teens, stood and stepped forward. Color me shocked when she grasped my hand and knelt at my feet. “Prophecy—.”
“Jude. I always feel like I’m in a weird situation when people call me the Prophecy.”
“Jude. You’ve called for volunteers to help aid in the fight against Hart and most of us would gladly give our own time and skills.”
“Not as many as you’d think,” muttered Stone Cold Mama, which earned her a glare from the woman at my feet. Always good to know where tensions and loyalties lay.
“Quiet, Wily. You might have let your daughters loose to set their own paths, but until I no longer walk this earth I will watch the interests of Christophe.” One mystery solved.
Before Wily could get out whatever nasty thought she had, I stepped in. “You’re right, I did call for volunteers. You’re also right in that almost all of them are kids.”
“My son is only a year younger than you.”
I turned my head to follow the voice, and found it belonged to a man that could only politely be called fat. He was the only parent who’d stayed standing, probably more because none of the furniture would hold him comfortably than out of respect.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know who your son is without having his name.”
“Samuel. He says you’ve named him as one of the best of your archers.”
With a name, I had a face. It was a good face, strong boned, deep blue eyes, and red hair. “He’s right. For someone with no training, he’s already remarkably accomplished after only two days. If you say he’s only a year younger than me, I believe you. But I can almost bet he’s never huddled in an alley and prayed nobody found his hiding spot. As far as I’m concerned, that makes him a lot more than a year younger.”
I turned back to Christophe’s mother, still kneeling patiently at my feet. “Your children, all of them, are giving of themselves freely. Which, unless I’ve missed some information, is more than can be said for every person in this room.”
“It’s not enough you use our children, you’d have us take up arms in a war that is essentially none of our concern?” Yeah, Wily was going to get on my nerves, just like her girls. Like mother, like daughters. Oh, joy.
“As far as I’m concerned, anything which can change the balance of good and evil is something of concern. Especially when some of the parties involved have already made it clear they don’t care who they hurt or kill, as long as they get what they want.”
“But they’re children. Children.” Christophe’s mother gripped my hand harder, the pressure making me wince. I could have pushed the fact that some of them weren’t children, but I got the point.
“If we lose, Hart won’t give a damn if they’re children or adults. He will systematically kill every person associated with the Covenant.” It was harsh and definitely worst case scenario, but sometimes you have to be brutal to get the point across. Since I heard more than one gasp, I knew they understood this time.
“Your children are phenomenal. You’ve given them the most amazing range of skill sets, and even the ones who aren’t great at archery are still better than some people who’ve had years of practice.” I knelt down until I was eye level with Christophe’s silently crying mother. “We can’t win this war without what they can bring to the table. And we can’t win unless you accept the fact that any possibility of peace is going to be bought with blood and tears.”
“Jude Magdalyn is correct.” Williams spoke for the first time since entering the room. “Hart does not believe in taking prisoners. He kills, eats, or turns. Out of those, you would prefer your children to die at his hands than spend eternity anchored to him.”
“And we should let you, a monster such as Hart, and a street whore lead us into a battle where we’re more likely to lose than to win.” I tried to be the leader Gillian and Theo and Rian and others believed me to be and didn’t go with my first instinct to throw a bolt of lightning at Wily.
Because that wouldn’t have been nice, at all.
“You wonder what we’re fighting for, what’s worth dying for. It’s the chance to pretend wars like this are never fought, to pretend you’ll never worry about your children this way again.” I scanned the faces around me. “We’re fighting for your children, and their children, and their children, to have a chance at a world where they don’t have to be afraid to go out after dark, or to leave a window open.”
“You’re fighting for the greater good.”
I started shaking my head before Williams finished speaking. “No, we’re fighting for something bigger than the greater good. The good is so limited, and this is bigger than that. This is for the bad, the lost, and the misguided. It’s for everyone.” I thought about what Theo said the other night, and the truth in it. “We’re fighting for the greater.”
Christophe’s mother stood, giving me her hand again. “What you say is true. I’ll give of my time and skills as I can, and Christophe will continue as you see fit.”
One by one the other parents in the room stood, making their own pledges. Finally only Wily remained, her face set in stubborn lines. We stared at each other until finally she moved forward, bowing over my hand.
“You should know, Jude, that even if we win, there will be some who will make it their mission to see you replaced.”
I raised an eyebrow, smirking. I’d been threatened with much worse on a much more regular basis, especially recently. “If that’s the best you can do, Wily, you’re way out of your league. I’ll take your help – for now.”
They filed out of the room, leaving slips of scrap paper with Elizabeth. Phone numbers or hours of availability or pizza topping preferences, I had no idea, but she smiled and thanked each person for coming like we’d just finished afternoon tea.
I sank into the chair closest to the fire, leaned my head back and closed my eyes. Blessed quiet at last. Possibly the most perfect moment of the day.
“I’m sorry, Jude, but the Silent Ones are waiting for you.”
Ruined. Damn it.
The kids, who ranged from ten to their mid-twenties, were just like their parents in their need for everything to have some sort of crazy ass name. They’d voted on theirs, saying it made sense because their arrows would be silent killers. I hadn’t the heart to stand in front of all their youthful enthusiasm and tell them arrows, especially if there were a great number of them, did make a noise.
I hadn’t lied when I’d said Samuel ranked among the best, but truthfully, they were all rockstars. I was pretty damn good, but more than one of them had natural talent. You would think they’d been born with a bow and arrow in their hand. Since I couldn’t be everywhere at once, after a few more lessons I planned on leaving the really kick-ass archers in charge of lessons, and move on to another avenue of attack.
“Alright, I can do another hour or so of torture. Not like I didn’t almost die or anything.” I pushed up from the chair, giving a little woohoo inside when there wasn’t any dizziness. Bridget really was as good as Gillian kept saying.
Whatever Elizabeth would have responded, I’d never know. Theo and Rian burst into the room, the crashing door echoing like a gunshot in the almost empty room. It took a moment to register Theo supported the other man,
and that Rian bled from a gaping hole in his neck.
Quicker than I could have moved, Williams took Rian’s other side and helped Theo lower him to the floor. Gillian will beat us all if he bleeds on the rug.
Elizabeth looked ghost white, but hadn’t passed out. Points for her. I wouldn’t have blamed her if she did. Secretly, I wanted a little pass-out time myself.
Wetting my lips, I knelt as a tingling began in my hands. They hadn’t felt this way the last time I’d healed someone, but maybe the energy differed because this was external as well as internal. Eyes closed, I moved my hands over the wound in his throat, envisioning the tendons and muscles and veins reforming, the hole closing.
It took longer than I would have thought which made me reevaluate the wound’s severity. When Rian finally gasped for breath, I was sweating like I’d run five miles and my hands shook violently. I opened my eyes and saw Elizabeth had pulled Rian’s head into her lap. Theo wiped the remaining blood away from Rian’s now healed throat.
Rian drew a shaky breath, opening his mouth to speak but let out a hacking cough instead. Elizabeth brushed the hair back from his forehead, shaking her head. “Don’t try and talk right now. Give it a few minutes.”
He shook his head and swallowed. He managed to rasp out one word. “Celia.”
“Williams will go get her.” He was already turning toward the door when Rian shook his head again, more violently this time. He coughed again, a harsh, dry sound.
“Hart. He took Celia.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
“I’m going. That’s final, Jude. Either I walk in with you or I sneak in after you but I’m going.”
I shook my head before she finished her declaration. “No, Elizabeth, you’re not. You’d be distracted, which is bad enough, but you have no weapons training, no way to protect yourself. I can’t risk getting Celia back just to lose you.”
I turned to leave the room when she grabbed my arm, forcing me back around. She had a hell of a grip – I’d have a bitch of a bruise by morning. Her eyes, normally calm and collected, were slightly wild, determined.
“She’s my sister and the only real family I have left. I can’t stay here, wondering if she’s hurt or scared, or….” Elizabeth trailed off, and I knew what she didn’t say. It’s what none of us said, even if we thought it. It was the white elephant in the room.
I hate elephants.
“Look, I can’t begin to understand how you’re feeling. That doesn’t change the fact you have no training. Hell, you don’t even have a weapon.” My eyes widened when she pulled a gun from underneath her jacket. “What the crap?”
“It’s a martini glass. What does it look like, Jude?”
“Alright, stupid question. Maybe I should have said what the crap is a seventeen year old doing with a revolver?”
“It’s a Glock .26, a 9 mm semi-automatic, not a revolver. And I’ll be eighteen on Halloween.” Elizabeth flushed a pale pink, probably owing to the fact I looked at her like she’d grown a second head. “It belonged to our father, and when he died, I sort of….”
“You stole a gun.”
“No, I just made sure my relatives didn’t put it somewhere I couldn’t get it if I needed it.”
“Do I want to know what kind of home life requires access to a gun?”
“No, you don’t.” Elizabeth slid the gun back underneath her jacket, and I admitted unless you knew what to look for you’d never suspect. In the few seconds she’d had the gun out she’d handled it like she knew what to do, which raised a few more questions.
“Can you actually shoot, or is this just show?”
“Celia has dance class twice a week. I go to the shooting range over near Poydras. It’s only a little bit away from the studio.”
“You carry a gun on the streetcar?”
“Don’t be silly. Theo drives us.” With my head reeling from information overload, Elizabeth grabbed both of my hands. “Please, Jude. I know how Celia thinks. If she’s hiding somewhere, I’ll know where to find her. Please. I have to go.”
“Jude.” I looked over my shoulder to meet Gillian’s gaze. I don’t know how long she’d been standing in the doorway listening to us but I’d bet long enough. “Let the girl go. It’s her family. Whatever the outcome of tonight, she’ll regret not being present.”
I knew when I was outgunned – no pun intended. I shook my head. “I don’t like this, but fine. You can come. Just do me a favor?”
“Anything.”
“Don’t die on me. My nerves are stretched a little thin right now.”
Elizabeth smiled slightly. “I’m pretty sure I can manage that.”
I turned to leave, this time for real. “Try for damn sure. Now, let’s go get your sister.”
“Everybody had their tetanus shots?”
“Now is not the time for humor, Jude Magdalyn.”
“I’m serious. This building is a landmine of potential diseases.” Williams and his guard had tracked Celia to a house in the 9th Ward, one of hundreds abandoned after Katrina flooded the city. Entire blocks stood empty, ghost towns eerily reminiscent of the cemeteries.
Thinking about cemeteries made me think about dead people. Not the best thought when you were on a rescue mission.
“We’ll worry about diseases later. Williams, how many does Hart keep around him?” Trust Gillian to cut to the heart of the matter.
“Two dozen stay with him constantly. Most of the members of our former clan are in hiding, waiting until a winner emerges before showing themselves.” Williams ran his eyes over our number. “If he chooses to fight, this has the potential to go badly.”
“Everything has the potential to go badly.” This from Theo, who had shocked the hell out of me by strapping on a sword, easily four feet from tip to hilt. It was also shocking that the implied danger made him a little bit sexier. Okay, a whole lot sexier.
God, celibacy was going to kill me.
I shook my head sharply, clearing my thoughts. Focus. Must focus right now. Distraction would do nothing but get someone killed.
Gillian, Williams, and Theo talked in hushed tones. Actually, they argued, that’s what happens when you put too many head cheerleaders on the same squad. Nothing gets done, just talked about. Beside me, Elizabeth vibrated with tension, rapidly reaching the point where she’d take matters into her own hands.
I placed my hand on Elizabeth’s arm, raised a finger to my lips. I gave the huddle behind us one more look before I crouched down and pulled Elizabeth with me. Using one of the dozens of rust covered cars for cover I eased my way into the deserted street, careful to make as little noise as possible.
Enough abandoned vehicles and general debris remained uncleared after almost two years that it made keeping to the shadows easy. Elizabeth was better than I’d given her credit for. Living in a house with Wily, Lies, and Guile had probably made keeping to the shadows a genuine survival technique.
The fence around the house had bent under the flood water weight, almost touching the ground. Knee high grass covered both yards, and my feet squelched in the mud created by the evening’s earlier rain. Holding the fence down to minimize any noise, I widened my eyes at Elizabeth, jerking my head in the direction of the house. She took two huge steps, one directly in the center of the rusting fence, crossing over in complete silence. Kneeling, she held the top of the fence down, and I followed her lead. Two giant steps, and we were both in the yard.
Still crouched, I took Elizabeth’s hand and headed toward the back of the house. Quickly and quietly, we made our way around to the back, keeping to the shadow of the house. I remembered to breathe as we turned the corner completely hidden from the sight of everybody across the street. Elizabeth let out a low, shaky laugh.
“Part one accomplished. Now things get interesting.”
My knees were starting to ache but I ignored the pain. Turning, I looked at our options for entry. The tiny porch had a door and four windows about waist high from the ground. I rose slightly,
shifting until I could peer in the window closest to us to get a glance at what lay inside.
Debris. Rotted floorboards. Moth-eaten sheets. No vampires.
Motioning to Elizabeth, I waited for her to stand before beginning to push the window up. Worried it wouldn’t open, and scared it would squeak and squeal if it did, I held my breath. Together, we pushed the glass high enough to squeeze through. Elizabeth knelt and helped boost me up through the gap without jumping.
Inside, I scanned the room, checking to make sure we hadn’t missed anything. I grabbed Elizabeth’s elbows, and helped pull her in. We left the window open, although if this went as badly as it had the potential to, I didn’t think we’d be going out the way we came in.
Treading carefully, concerned not only with squealing floorboards but falling through them, we crossed the room. Elizabeth stayed close behind to my right. I’d discovered my left hand was my go-to hand for throwing fire, something Elizabeth knew.
When we got to the door I pressed my ear against the wood, listening for any sounds. At first it sounded like the house was empty and I panicked, sure Williams had screwed up. Then I heard a rustle and a high-pitched giggle, which could only belong to one person. They were here and just down the hall.
I eased the door open, stopping when we had enough space to slide through. It wasn’t easy, what with having breasts and all, but I managed. Elizabeth slid through a little easier, but not much. I kept to the wall. Walking on the balls of my feet, I eased in the direction of the annoying, manic giggle, pausing every few feet to listen.
We were close to the front of the house when I could finally make out voices. Relief flooded through my system as I recognized Celia’s. Amusement followed relief as I listened to her words.
“I don’t want to and you can’t make me.”
A crash, followed by cursing in French. “You will do as I say you little brat or you’ll face my wrath.”
