Embolden

by Syrie James

  Alec automatically shook Neil’s outstretched hand.

  “Did you see Erica?” Claire asked.

  Neil nodded stiffly. “Yeah. Not gonna lie, there were some tears.”

  “Crap.” Claire sighed, a worried look on her face. “She’s never going to speak to me again.”

  “I tried to convince her not to drive right now,” Neil said, “but she wouldn’t listen. Just insisted on getting the hell out of here.” He managed a tight smile. “So. The drama will continue at the read-through Monday afternoon. Get excited.” Neil continued past them up the hill toward the junior class lockers.

  “Looks like it’ll be a tense few months,” Brian said, watching Neil walk away. “I’m so glad I don’t have to be involved in any of that until tech week.”

  Unsure what to say, Alec remained silent. The only reason he’d agreed to try out was to spend more time with Claire. King Arthur was the leading role, so it was flattering that he’d been chosen to play it, and exciting to think that Claire would be playing his wife.

  But at the same time, if Claire was Guinevere, the last person on earth Alec wanted to play Lancelot was Neil.

  What had he gotten himself into?

  eleven

  “How much time do we have?” Claire asked.

  Alec checked the digital clock in a novelty electronics store’s window. “Ten minutes.”

  It was Saturday night, the day after the cast list had been posted. She and Alec were walking through the crowded night scene at Third Street Promenade, a pedestrian-only street in Santa Monica, after dining at a little Greek place.

  Things had been quiet and awkward at dinner. Alec hadn’t brought up the play, and neither had Claire, but she hadn’t been able to think about anything else.

  The play was practically all she had been thinking about for the past twenty-four hours. She could hardly believe that she’d scored the female lead. And opposite Alec! To think that Ms. Donnelly trusted Claire, an untried actress, to do such an important part was, well, flattering. And exciting. Her mom and Helena had been excited, too, when she’d told them.

  At the same time, though, Claire felt really, really bad for Erica. Claire had texted Erica twice, saying Call me, and I’m sorry, but her friend hadn’t responded. Claire understood why. She knew how much Erica had wanted that part and figured she just needed some space to deal with her disappointment.

  Claire wasn’t sure what she’d say to Erica when she did call, except to commiserate and say how sorry she was. But they definitely needed to talk.

  She and Alec needed to talk, too—but for a different, related reason.

  But now, as they rushed to catch a movie, they were still avoiding the topic. “You’d think our waiter would’ve told someone he was going on break for an hour,” Alec added.

  “It’s okay, it’s like we’re back in New York.” Claire grinned, extending her gloved hand to him. “Except I get to keep both eyes open.”

  Alec accepted her hand and pulled her along faster as they dodged other couples, strolling families, and a knot of people gathered around a group of street musicians. Claire glanced back, wishing they had time to listen, but the AMC theater was almost in sight.

  Suddenly, three figures appeared directly in their path, forcing them to skid to an abrupt halt.

  “Well,” said the female of the group in a distinct, all-too-familiar British accent. “Fancy meeting you two here.”

  She’d hoped never to see Celeste again. The tall, raven-haired beauty wore a calf-length, red wool coat and high black leather boots. A red knitted beret perched at an angle on her head. Goth makeup accentuated her pale complexion and crimson lips.

  Flanking Celeste on both sides were her usual cohorts. Javed was tall and broad-shouldered, his curly black hair tied back in a ponytail. Tattoos peeked above the collar of his black peacoat, snaking up and around his neck.

  Rico, also dressed in darks, was shorter and stockier and sported a bushy goatee on a round, unfriendly face. A beanie with an LA Kings logo was tugged down over his head. “In a hurry?” he asked as he stared at Claire, legs spread wide and arms crossed over his chest like a bouncer outside a club.

  “Just out for a jog.” Alec’s face went cold and he stepped in front of Claire as if to protect her. “How’s your knee?”

  Claire remembered that the last time Alec met up with these assholes, he’d left them both in a world of hurt. She could see on their faces that they remembered, too.

  “It’ll feel better,” Rico began icily, “when it’s jammed up your—”

  “Rico, don’t embarrass yourself again,” Celeste interjected, patting him on the shoulder like he was the family dog. “They won’t want to hang out with us if you act like a bitchy adolescent.” She fixed Claire and Alec with a radiant smile.

  “It’s so great to see you,” Claire lied, hoping to defuse the situation before it turned ugly. “But we’re late to a movie, so we have to go.”

  She was about to move on, when Celeste gave her a sly glance.

  “What a shame you’re in such a rush, Claire. Here I thought you’d want to talk to us. I mean, considering how anxious you are to find your father.”

  Claire froze, her heart jumping into her throat. Holy crap. Alec was right; the Fallen did have a super spy network. Did Celeste really know something about Claire’s father? Tamping down that thought, she struggled to sound nonchalant. “How’s that any of your business?”

  “We’re making it our business,” Celeste replied. “My boss wants to help you. Both of you, actually.”

  “Your boss?” Claire wondered who that was. But Alec was ten steps ahead of her.

  “You can tell Mr. Malcolm no thank you,” Alec said heatedly.

  “You haven’t even heard what we’re offering.” Celeste made a faux-offended face. “You, dear boy, have the local Watcher on your arse. We could keep him off the scent. And—”

  “I’ve held my own so far,” Alec interrupted. “I don’t need your help.”

  “So far.” Celeste’s voice dripped with condescension. “You might be able to shrug this off, cowboy, but the filly might feel otherwise.” Turning to Claire, she added in a more serious tone, “Claire Bear, my boss knows where your father is.”

  “He does?” Claire couldn’t help blurting out, immediately wishing she hadn’t sounded so obviously interested.

  “Thata girl.” Celeste smiled. “I know you’re asking yourself, ‘What’s the catch? Nothing in life is free, blah, blah, blah.’ But what we want in exchange is simply for you to embrace your true calling.”

  Claire was still so mesmerized by the words knows where your father is, she could hardly concentrate on what Celeste was saying.

  “We’re talking help for help,” Celeste went on. “We keep Alec safe, and he goes back to policing rogue Fallen. For us.”

  “Policing rogue Fallen?” Alec repeated, incredulous.

  “We do try to keep our own in line. The less visible we are, the better. And you are, after all, an expert in that area. As for Claire’s gifts, I don’t even need to tell you how helpful she could be at keeping our innocent brethren out of danger.”

  Alec narrowed his eyes. “And I suppose we’ll strap on capes and leap off rooftops while we’re at it?”

  “I’m a fan of capes.” Celeste shrugged. “Whatever floats your boat.”

  “Let’s go,” Alec told Claire, taking her hand again.

  Celeste stood her ground, flanked by her flunkies. “I’d like to hear Claire’s answer, tough guy.”

  Claire stood there, torn. She couldn’t help being tempted. First off, with their power and resources, the Fallen probably could keep Zachariah off Alec’s back. It would be such a relief to have him out of danger. Secondly, if the Fallen were holding her father captive, it was likely that Celeste or her boss would know where he was. And could ma
ybe help rescue him.

  On the other hand, did she dare enslave herself to these people, whom Alec had spent more than a hundred years fighting against?

  Celeste cocked her head. “While you’re considering, sweetheart, I should add: it’s an all-or-nothing deal. Mr. Malcolm was very clear on that point. We need both of you fighting the good fight.”

  One look at Alec told Claire the answer. No matter how much she wanted what they were offering, it wasn’t going to happen. He’d never give in to this. And he was right. How many times had he warned her that the Fallen’s words were poison?

  Claire shook her head. “Like I said before, we’re running late.”

  “Of course. No pressure, you don’t have to decide right this minute. Take the weekend to think it over, sweetie. We can pop by after school on Monday.”

  “No need,” Claire insisted, tension boiling up in the pit of her stomach as she locked eyes with Celeste. “I’ve made up my mind. Back off. And go.”

  Celeste opened her mouth as if to reply, then paused. Her eyes seemed to glaze over slightly, as if she’d lost her train of thought.

  At the same time, Claire felt the strangest sensation. Like the tension inside her core had exploded out in invisible rubber bands, stretching between her and Celeste. Claire took a small step back, slightly dizzy, and the tethers seemed to tighten.

  Then, just as quickly, the feeling passed. Celeste blinked, and said hesitantly, with a hint of confusion, “Right. Let’s roll, boys.”

  “You serious?” Javed fired back.

  “Give me five minutes with this ex-Watcher in the alley,” Rico told Celeste, fuming, “and he’ll be saying yes with what’s left of his teeth.”

  “I said we’re bailing.” Celeste spun and walked off purposefully.

  “Enjoy your movie,” Rico sputtered, the words sounding a lot more like screw you. Glaring at Claire and Alec, he and Javed moved after Celeste and disappeared into the crowd.

  That was weird, Claire thought, her stomach still tight with anxiety. She’d never experienced anything quite like that before. Had Celeste tried some kind of new power on her? If so, what? And why?

  Not wanting to worry Alec, she just said, “Thank God they’re gone. Do you think we can still make the movie?”

  Alec didn’t reply. He stood frozen, with a bewildered expression, staring alternately at Claire and the spot in which Celeste had once stood.

  “Hello? Earth to boyfriend?”

  He still said nothing. The anxiety that had been building inside her reached a peak, and Claire couldn’t hold back anymore.

  “Alec, what’s wrong? You’ve hardly said anything since yesterday! All through dinner and the car ride, not a single word about the play or the fact that my best friend may never speak to me again. And then we run into those three assholes, and it was like I had to defuse the whole situation myself! And now I’m yelling at you in public. Sorry.”

  “Claire,” Alec said slowly, “do you want to get out of here? We need to talk.”

  As soon as Alec turned off the ignition, Claire turned to him impatiently. “So, talk.”

  They’d just arrived at the make-out spot favored by Emerson Academy students in the Palisades, high on a cliff overlooking the ocean. But they weren’t making out. Alec wasn’t even looking at her. Instead, he was sitting behind the wheel of his Mustang, brooding.

  Finally, Alec said, “I’m sorry if you felt like I didn’t protect you more, when Celeste and her idiots showed up. It was all I could do to restrain myself. I didn’t want to make a scene.”

  “I get it. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “As for the other stuff. I know I’ve been distracted since yesterday. And you’re half-right. Part of it is about the play.”

  Claire felt the knots in her stomach seize up again. “I knew it. Ever since Brian told us about the casting, I saw your face, and I—”

  Alec held up a hand to silence her. “I feel bad for Erica. Your friendship is so strong, I’m sure she’ll get past it. But I’ve also got reservations about watching you play Guinevere every day for the next two months. Because although I’m excited about playing king to your queen, and I know we’ll have fun doing it, there’s this thing that keeps eating away at the back of my mind.” He paused for a breath, still unable to meet her eyes. “I know it’s stupid and adolescent for me to feel jealous, but the idea that Neil is going to be Lancelot, your lover, and you’re going to have all these intimate scenes together …”

  He trailed off, searching for words. When he looked up, his eyes were filled with embarrassment, and his cheeks were red.

  Claire felt the most delicious sensation wash over her, like she’d just been wrapped in a warm and fuzzy blanket. She leaned over the console, her face inches from his, and kissed him gently. “Have I ever told you that I love you?”

  “You may have mentioned it once or twice.”

  She caressed his face with her gloved hand, pretending to mope. “That’s your answer?”

  His eyes twinkled now. He pressed his lips against hers and kissed her deeply. “You know I love you,” he replied softly. “Better?”

  “Infinitely. And thank you for sharing all that.” She heaved a sigh. “What I haven’t mentioned lately is that I’ve been freaking out about all this, too. I mean, the whole Neil/Camelot/love scene thing.”

  “You have?”

  “Yes. That is, until I went online and found the script.”

  “And?”

  “It turns out that Guinevere kisses Arthur. Which is you. But she never kisses Lancelot.”

  “Seriously?”

  She nodded. “Lancelot and Guinevere have feelings for each other and sing this big romantic song and all, but the script just says they ‘embrace passionately.’ Which I’m assuming just means an overly dramatic hug.”

  It was Alec’s turn to smile. “Okay then. I think I can handle that.”

  Claire felt a weight lift off her shoulders. “You gotta love the irony, though: they’re the ones with the forbidden love in the play, not you and me.”

  “Well, where would the fun be in playing real life?”

  “Exactly! Fun! That’s what this is all about.” She interlaced her fingers in his. “We’re going to be okay. It’s just a play. Right?”

  Alec nodded mechanically.

  As Claire leaned in to kiss him again, she paused, noting that his expression had darkened again. “You said I was half-right about your being distracted. Is there something else?”

  “Aye.”

  Claire settled back in her seat, trying not to worry. “Speak.”

  Alec took a deep breath and plunged in. “Something strange is going on with you, and I don’t think you even realize it.”

  “Strange?”

  “It’s the way people have been responding to you lately.”

  “You were responding to me just fine a minute ago,” she said coyly.

  “Not me. Other people. First Mr. Patterson, and now Celeste.”

  “I admit, something weird happened with Celeste, I don’t know what. And Mr. Patterson always makes my blood pressure spike. But what does one have to do with the other?”

  “In both cases, you were arguing with them, and they shut down and backed off when you told them to.”

  “I didn’t tell them to. I—” She broke off uncertainly.

  “You did,” Alec insisted. “It’s been bothering me. I knew I’d seen something like that before but couldn’t put my finger on it. Tonight, I realized when it happened. It was on the subway platform, when Vincent was talking to your father. Vincent got this odd look in his eyes, then he apparently did what your dad told him to do. He jumped in front of the train.”

  “That wasn’t really Vincent. It was an illusion he was projecting.”

  “I know. But Vincent wanted your fath
er to think that what he was doing had worked.”

  “What do you mean, worked?”

  “It was like your father was trying to hypnotize Vincent.”

  “Hypnotize him?”

  “If I’m right, the same thing happened just now when you were talking to Celeste. And with Mr. Patterson. In both cases, you did something that changed their intention.”

  Claire stared at him. “But I didn’t do anything.”

  “Maybe not deliberately. But were you doing anything deliberately the first time you got a vision?”

  “No, but—” The hair on the back of Claire’s neck started to prickle. Weirdo dizziness aside, she had to admit, Celeste had given in a little too easily. Claire had been too preoccupied with relief when the trio left to think about it. But now, something clicked. “Holy crap. Are you saying what I think you’re saying? Do you think that’s my dad’s second gift? And—”

  “And your second gift.”

  Every nerve in Claire’s body was tingling. She could hardly breathe. “I can hypnotize people?”

  “Maybe. Or something similar. It seems like some kind of brainwashing.”

  They were quiet for a long moment, Claire’s heart racing as she tried to process this news. Was it really possible? Could she really get people to do whatever she wanted, just by thinking at them?

  Why not test it right now?

  She locked eyes with Alec, trying to restrict her mind to a single thought: Scratch your head.

  Alec looked back at her, his brow furrowing. “Why are you staring me?”

  “I’m trying to make you do something. Subliminally.”

  “I don’t feel anything.”

  “Neither do I.” Claire sighed. Then a thought hit her. “Maybe I’m not doing it right. What if I have to say what I’m thinking out loud? Both times this happened before, I was telling the person to do something.”

  “Hypnotists generally do make verbal suggestions. ”

  “Right. Let me try again.” Claire fixed her eyes on Alec once more, focusing her thoughts. “Scratch your head,” she commanded.

  “What?”