Jax didn’t fight as they unbuckled his sheath and pushed him into the passenger section of the hearse. If he wanted to stay close to Evangeline, he had to cooperate. And with every fiber of his being, he wanted—needed—to go where that casket went.
“We’re taking the other kids as well,” Gasoline Guy said to the other one.
“You sure you want them?”
“They found the Emrys heir when no one else could. I want them.” While the sirens roared and neighbors gathered across the street to look at the glow in the sky, the leader of these thugs walked away from the hearse and approached Michael Donovan.
“Well, Balin, are you satisfied?” Michael asked. He had the same amused lilt in his voice as when he’d called out Terrance at the bank. “You said there’d be a bonus if the Kin girl was the one you were looking for.”
“Yes, I did.” The man picked up his gasoline can again. “Your family has a valuable talent, Donovan. I’ll be recruiting your children for the service of my lord.” Then he bashed Michael in the head with the can. Michael went down like a felled tree, and the twins bolted. Thomas shot toward the rear of the house, and Tegan made a dash for Mrs. Unger’s open front door.
One of the men reached through the bars of Mrs. Unger’s railing and caught Tegan’s ankle. She fell face first across the threshold. He dragged her backward and scooped her under his arm like a football. With a hand over her mouth, he carried her to the hearse and chucked her in the open door at Jax’s feet.
Two others cornered Thomas and herded him toward the hearse. The boy held his arms out to either side in apparent submission. But when he got to the door, Thomas grabbed the frame, thrust himself upward, and scrambled over the top of the vehicle. Gasoline Guy—Balin—reached for him and missed. Jax heard Thomas’s footsteps pound across the roof and saw him leap off the other side.
“Go, Tommy, go,” shouted Tegan.
The man Balin waved a hand at the driver. “Go—before we have to shoot the bystanders.” He slammed the door shut and stalked toward one of the black Land Rovers parked behind the hearse.
As the vehicles pulled away, Jax saw Billy Ramirez running down the street from his house in bare feet, wearing Lord of the Ring pajamas. He was looking at the glow in the sky until he spotted the crumpled form in front of Mrs. Unger’s, then he diverted to cross the street, cutting in front of the hearse. The driver cursed, turning the wheel and barely missing him.
“Billy, look out,” Jax yelled, pressing his face against the window.
Billy saw him and shouted, “Jax, what are you doing in there? Jax!”
The hearse passed him and picked up speed.
“Where are you taking us?” Jax growled at the two men in front, summoning his talent and reaching over the seats to put his hand on one of them.
The guy beside the driver grabbed his wrist and turned around. Jax found himself facing the man who’d offered to take him out back. “Your magic won’t work on me, inquisitor.” His fingers tightened on Jax’s arm. “My brother may have promised your liege lady he’d bring you along, but no one said you had to arrive with all your teeth.” This guy was younger than the man with the gasoline can, but his eyes were the same cold, dark color, and he had a vicious smile. He shoved Jax backward and cranked up a glass partition between the passenger compartment and the front seats.
Jax stumbled into Tegan, who pushed him away. He pushed her back. “You sold me out!” he yelled. “You sold out my friends! Why? What did I ever do to you?”
“We sold some Kin girl to one of her own kind,” Tegan yelled back. “It’s got nothing to do with you. It wasn’t supposed to hurt anybody.”
“Oh yeah?” Jax dragged her to the window of the hearse. “Do you see that glow in the sky? That’s my friend’s house on fire. Her kids are trapped inside, and my guardian’s trying to get them out.” He shook Tegan. “You did that, didn’t you? How else did they know to pick her house?”
Tegan wrenched herself loose. “You said there was a security shield in town. I found it. I didn’t know they were going to set her house on fire.” Her face was flushed. “We’re not killers.”
“Really? Your dad showed Terrance how to get into Grunsday so he could kidnap kids and kill them when he was done with them. And you sicced these maniacs on Melinda so they could kill her family.”
“Shut up!” Tegan hissed.
“But you messed up, didn’t you? You did such a good job, they want to keep you.”
“Dad and Tommy’ll come for me.” Tegan retreated across the hearse from Jax and huddled in the opposite corner of the U-shaped bench seat.
“What’d you do it for?” Jax asked bitterly.
“Money.”
“A garbage bag full of cash wasn’t enough?”
“Dad lost that at the horse races,” Tegan said. “And he owed more.”
Jax’s heart sank into his stomach. He should have known when they took the cash from his household kitty that the Donovans couldn’t hang on to money. They were always going to be scavenging for more. I led them to Evangeline.
Tegan confirmed it. “Tommy thought you had the scent of someone powerful on you, so we came to check it out, and I smelled Kin next door. High-ranking Kin. Dad knew about these people who were searching for a high-ranking Kin girl and—” Suddenly, Tegan broke off and glared at him. “Stop it,” she said through clenched teeth.
Jax hadn’t even realized he was using his talent on her. But he wasn’t going to let her go now that he had her. “Who are these people?” They had to be the ones Riley had mentioned, the people his dad had briefly worked for and then betrayed.
The ones searching for an Emrys heir to break the Eighth Day Spell.
Tegan shook her head furiously, fighting his interrogation, but couldn’t stop herself from answering. “Dad knew a guy who knew a guy who knew about ’em. They’re vassals to some Kin liege.” She looked him up and down with disgust. “Like you are. What’d ya do something so stupid for? I can smell the oath on you. Transitioners aren’t supposed to swear to Kin! We’ve got eight days to their one. Why would you put yourself under one of them?”
“You’d have to care about somebody other than yourself to understand,” Jax retorted.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” Tegan said.
No. Jax had seen the surprised look on Donovan’s face when he fell. None of it was supposed to happen, and it was Jax’s fault it had. He’d been too cowardly to tell Riley about the Donovans, and now Evangeline had fallen into the hands of enemies, and Melinda . . .
Remembering how quickly the sirens had sounded, Jax tried to convince himself that Riley or one of the Crandalls had called 911 in the first possible instant. But any neighbor might have made that call after midnight on Thursday. For all Jax knew, Riley and Melinda were dead, along with her family. Jax had not only been irresponsible, he’d been a liability to everyone. He was painfully aware that Evangeline had taken him as a vassal to protect him, not because she believed he could protect her.
He twisted around to look at the casket.
“She doesn’t feel it, you know.”
Jax turned a resentful glare on Tegan, who added, “It’ll be like a second or two before they let her out. She won’t feel the time passing.”
“You don’t know what she feels,” Jax said. “So just shut up.” Maybe it would only be a second of terror for Evangeline inside that coffin, but it was a second that would last for seven days. She was living it now—and would still be living it an hour from now, and a day from now, and a week from now.
Jax couldn’t save her from that endless moment or end it any quicker for her.
They drove all night and into the next morning, crossing into Ohio. It was past noon when the hearse and the following Land Rovers pulled up in front of an isolated farmhouse. They were met by a wiry woman with a face like a mean little terrier who opened the door of the hearse. “Hands behind your heads,” she said. “Keep your mouths shut and walk single file to the door.”
&n
bsp; Jax climbed out behind Tegan. He put his hands on his head, but instead of following instructions, he headed for the back of the hearse, where men were unloading the casket. The terrier-faced woman grabbed his wrist and twisted it behind his back, trying to dislocate his arm or possibly rip it off. He gasped in pain and struggled to get free.
A sharp whistle preceded a shout. “Let him go.”
Jax staggered as the woman released him and received an unexpected hand of assistance from the older Balin. “Take it easy, Aubrey,” he said. “We’re not going to harm your liege.”
“Harm her?” Jax repeated. He watched as the casket was carried into the house. “You threatened to burn her alive. You threw her into a coffin!”
“No one will harm her now that she’s in our custody,” Balin amended.
“What do you want with her?” Jax threw as much talent as he knew how to muster into that question. He had no honor blade, and there was no time for meditation, but he was seething with anger and that might help.
It was like hurling magic at a blank wall. Balin didn’t even twitch. He answered Jax’s question with one of his own. “Where does your loyalty lie? With your liege or with the person you were living with?”
“With her.” If Jax had to choose between Evangeline and Riley, he would choose Evangeline. Riley would want him to choose Evangeline.
“Who is he?” Balin asked. “What’s his name?”
It took two beats of the heart for Jax to find an answer. “He had an arrangement with my liege. If she wants to tell you his name, she will. But I can’t answer without instruction.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
Balin was asking whether Jax was magically compelled to silence, or just being a loyal vassal. He almost lied, but instinct—maybe talent—took over his tongue. “Won’t.”
Apparently, that was the right answer, because the man almost smiled. “Very well, Aubrey.” His gaze didn’t leave Jax’s face even though he addressed the terrier-faced woman. “Take this boy into the house. If he wants to stay with his liege, he’ll make no trouble.”
Jax stared into Balin’s eyes and gave one brief nod of agreement.
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
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31
THEY LEFT JAX locked in a room for an entire day, with nothing to do but think about his own mistakes and imagine horrible endings to the fire at Melinda’s house. They fed him and let him out to use the bathroom, but told him nothing. His talent bounced off most of them uselessly, and he might have thought it had failed him altogether, if he hadn’t managed to get one guy to tell him the name of the town they were in. Before he could follow up with a more significant question, the terrier-faced woman smacked Jax across the mouth and sent the guy who’d answered his question away.
Jax glimpsed the mark on her wrist, right before she fattened his lip with the palm of her hand, and it was the same as the one on the two Balin men. Most of these thugs were part of the same family, Jax realized. It wasn’t that his talent wasn’t working. It just didn’t work on Balins.
On Friday morning, they escorted him out of the house, but wouldn’t let him get into the hearse. “You’re riding in the car, Aubrey,” the senior Balin told him. “You’re not traveling to the same place she is.”
Jax broke out in a sweat. His whole body itched as he watched men load Evangeline’s casket into a hearse. “You swore we’d stay together.”
“No,” Balin said calmly. “I gave my word you’d get safe passage.”
“But—”
“You’ll be taken to one of my lord’s vassals for examination. He’ll determine whether or not it’s safe to bring you anywhere near my lord.”
“Bring Evangeline with us, then,” Jax pleaded.
“That’s not safe for her.” Balin put his hands on his hips. “I hope I’ve not misjudged you. I don’t want to break my word, but I can. It’s not the same as a bloodline oath.”
“Is this a test? To see what I do? Because you’re making it impossible for me to fulfill my oath!” In a corner of his mind, a small, timid Jax wished the mouthy Jax would shut up.
“If you want to serve your liege,” Balin said quietly, “get in the car, pass our security test, and you’ll be there when we open that casket in six days.”
Six days before he’d see Evangeline again.
The hearse pulled away from the farmhouse. Jax ran both hands through his hair and looked up at Balin. He wants me to pass, Jax realized. He likes me. This man is a killer, and he likes me. Jax took a long, shuddering breath, then walked obediently toward the Land Rover. His heart hurt, as if the vehicle that had driven Evangeline away had torn off a chunk of him when it left. Is this the way the Crandalls feel about Riley? Or is it only when you’re failing your oath that you feel this bad?
Tegan scampered out of the house. The last time Jax had seen her, she’d been wearing her usual sweatshirt and jeans. This morning she wore shorts and a flared tank top with shiny silver sequins. She climbed into the car, over Jax, and slid out of sight just as the terrier-faced woman ran out of the farmhouse. “That little thief!” the woman hollered. “Where is she? She stole . . .”
“What?” demanded Balin. “She stole what?”
The woman stopped, glancing at the older Balin in his dark suit and his younger brother dressed the same. “Nothing,” she snapped. Jax guessed flashy tops and shorts weren’t standard issue for their brute squad.
Jax turned to his fellow prisoner. “Steal anything useful?” Tegan wiggled a hand inside a pocket of the shorts and pulled out a wad of cash. She unfolded it, checking the denominations: two fives, a ten, a few ones, and some colored bills. Mexican pesos. “Well, that’s a big help,” Jax said.
Tegan raised an eyebrow. “What’d you get?”
Jax glared. He hadn’t stolen anything. “You have a plan?”
“Escape. You?”
“I have to stay with them. They have Evangeline.”
“Then you’re an idiot.” Tegan looked like she wanted to say more, but the Balin brothers got into the car, and she clammed up.
It was a silent ride. The Balins didn’t engage in conversation, and Jax had nothing to say to Tegan. They were deep in Kentucky by evening, when the Land Rover stopped at an abandoned industrial complex behind a tall, barbed-wire fence. The older Balin got out and briskly walked in first. His brother waved Jax and Tegan out of the car and in the front door. They were taken to a large, empty warehouse where they found John Balin engaged in heated conversation with another man.
He was in his mid-twenties and wasn’t dressed like the rest of the Balin clan. He wore a baggy, un-tucked concert T-shirt over cargo pants. His hair was shaggy, uncombed, and jet black except for a white patch on the side of his head.
“I didn’t know anything about this!” The young man pushed a pair of wire-rimmed glasses up his nose. “Isn’t it my job to prevent you wasting time on information from a dubious source?”
“We found her, Owens. Which you failed to do.”
“I should have been there.”
“Your job is to follow orders. You keep forgetting that.” Balin’s voice was deadly cold. He’d spoken more warmly to Jax.
The guy called Owens didn’t seem to care. “Whose orders?” he demanded. “I swore my allegiance to Lord Wylit, not you.”
“Lord Wylit speaks through me.”
“Yes, well, I only have your word for that, don’t I?” Owens walked toward Jax and Tegan, his sneakers squeaking on the floor. “And who are these two? Is this really the time to recruit vassals out of middle school?”
“I brought them here for you to evaluate,” said Balin, crossing his arms. “Do it.”
Evaluate? What kind of evaluation? Jax doubted it was going to be an oral quiz. He braced himself for some sort of magical attack.
Tegan had apparently reached the same conclusion. She recoiled from t
he man’s approach, but Owens caught her by the back of her neck with his right hand and yanked her forward. He put his left hand on top of her head. Tegan screamed and fell to her knees.
“Hey!” Jax yelled. “Get your hands off her!”
Just as suddenly as he’d grabbed her, Owens let go. Tegan sagged to the floor. “Scent sensitive,” Owens proclaimed, looking at John Balin. “But you already knew that. Totally undisciplined, though. Worthless.”
“We supply the discipline,” Balin said dryly.
“She’s not susceptible to discipline,” Owens replied. “You’ll never make anything out of her. In fact”—he groped around in a pocket of his cargo pants, came up with a fist-sized pistol, and released the safety lock—“the best thing would be to just shoot her.”
Jax hauled Tegan to her feet and pushed her behind him. Owens eyed Jax curiously.
“Put the gun away, Owens,” Balin said evenly.
“Ask my opinion and do the opposite,” Owens muttered, thumbing the safety of his gun on. “Who could’ve predicted that?”
“I’ll worry about the girl. What do you see in the boy?” Balin prompted.
Jax held up an arm defensively when Owens turned to him, but the young man batted it aside impatiently. He did nothing but place a hand on the top of Jax’s head, but it felt like the hand reached right into Jax’s brain.
Jax pushed against it, the way Melinda had taught him. Then a blinding, debilitating pain shot through his head. He yelled and staggered backward into Tegan. Clenching his teeth together, he concentrated on not passing out.
The hand was back now, rummaging through Jax’s head as if his brain were a drawer full of disorganized photographs. Invisible fingers teased out exactly what they were looking for, and the memory of being Tasered by Terrance surged upward. Then Jax was handcuffed to the grill in the bank, and Thomas signaled him from the doorway. Jax was forced to remember the day the Donovans invaded his house, and finally he saw Mrs. Unger’s hallway where he’d sworn himself to Evangeline.
Owens removed his hand. The pain and the forced memories vanished.
The Eighth Day Page 16
