THE EQUINOX STONE (Knights of Manus Sancti Book 2)

by Bryn Donovan

  *

  Val sat in the living room with Michael and Jacinto, warming her hands on the cup of tea in her hands. Michael had just taken a bite of one of the lavender chocolate chip cookies Jacinto had baked that day.

  “This is really good for being vegan,” he told Jacinto. “I didn’t even know you could bake.”

  Jacinto shrugged. “I don’t have much else to do.”

  “He got a mixer,” Val added, pointing to the bright red appliance standing on the counter.

  It had been easy for her to convince the nurse that she had stomach flu. She’d almost retched once when talking to her. Jacinto had come to the school to pick her up, perfectly playing the concerned godfather, and had taken her home. Val had taken a hot bath, as though it could purify her of the man’s pestilent soul. Then she’d written out a report, the way she would have when doing a debriefing. She sent it to Nic, and Michael and Jacinto too. After that, Jacinto had convinced her to take a nap.

  He’d woken her up at eleven-thirty to be ready for the call with Nic. At the stroke of midnight, the doorbell had rung twice, and when Michael had come in, he’d immediately hugged her. It’d surprised her—and him, if she was correct—but his concern had sent warmth all the way down to her toes. She’d hugged him back.

  When Jacinto pressed the remote, Nic in the conference room in Anantara looked up.

  “Salaam,” he said. “Val, thanks for the report. How are you feeling after reading eleven people in an hour?”

  “I slept for hours, so not bad. I wish I could’ve gotten more information.” She’d been kicking herself for the past hour. “The leader’s real name, for instance.”

  “I keep wondering,” Jacinto said. “Isn’t it at least possible that a Tribunal member would name their son Malleus?”

  Malleus Maleficarum was a handbook for supposedly identifying and torturing witches. It hadn’t been written by a Tribunal member, and theologians had decried it, but it had remained beloved by many, Tribunal chief among them. For the world, the book held fascination. For Manus Sancti, it reflected the worst part of their history. Only Mein Kampf rivalled Malleus Maleficarum as the most evil book Val knew.

  “Hadiza says it’s unlikely,” Nic said. “None of the Tribunal ever had mythic names in the past. And that ‘one who crushes the heart of the witch’ is weirdly specific, so they’re researching that. We’re assuming the sacristy is in the school’s chapel.”

  “A sacristy—that’s where they keep the priest’s robes and stuff, right?” Michael asked. “I can just break in and get it.”

  “It’ll be a team effort,” Nic said. “We’re going to need a few days. First of all, that chapel’s been locked up for six months due to renovations. If you get caught, you’re not going to have any good excuses. So you need to know exactly where in the building to go. If Val can’t get that from Padilla or someone else, she’ll need to Read Kevin Fluekiger again.” He frowned. “Padilla might be Malleus. It’s weird for a principal to be a no-show at the assembly, right? You don’t think you’ve been made?”

  “I don’t think it’s super weird,” Michael said. “I think we’re okay.”

  “Val, you should take a break tomorrow and get your strength back up. Go to school, but don’t Read anyone.”

  Jacinto’s brow furrowed. “Don’t you think we should get to the bottom of this as soon as we can? The sooner we get them out of there, the better.”

  Nic’s mouth set in a hard line. “I know. But if Val’s worn out, she could slip up. And if she can’t wipe his memory afterward, it could get her killed.”

  Val nodded. That was the part that took the most power—which was why most Mages couldn’t do it at all. She needed to be at full strength.

  Just thinking of getting caught made her tremble inside. Her own cowardice shamed her. She reminded herself again that if the worst happened, she had her drop code. The words would usher her to a better afterlife—one she’d share with all those she’d loved, for her Goddess would never let her be abandoned. She’d chosen lines from a poem asking the goddess in the form of Aphrodite for aid. The ancient Greek words meant, Come to me now, Blessed Queen, and release me from the sorrows of this earth. Bring peace at last to my longing heart.

  “How’s she going to get close to him?” Michael asked.

  “Plan B is pretty simple. She acts up in your class, and you escort her to the principal’s office.”

  Michael burst out laughing.

  Val sighed. “What am I supposed to do?”

  “Talk with your friend during class. Michael reprimands you once, and when you do it again, he takes you to Padilla.”

  Michael had sobered. “I’m not supposed to leave the classroom unattended.”

  Nic shrugged. “You’re a substitute—you forgot. Val, get in and out as fast as you can. Whether he’s Tribunal or not, he’ll probably give you a lecture about behaving, and you’ll get a…” He paused. “Detention, they call it. Just act sad and say you miss your parents.” She actually did miss her parents, so she could probably say that convincingly. “If you can cry, that’ll be great.”

  “If he’s Tribunal, it’s going to be easy to cry.”

  Nic nodded. “I’m sorry. But use it.”

  Only sheer pride kept her from saying, I can’t do this. She’d already said she would. “Obedezco,” she said, like any Knight or mission Mage would.

  “Michael will be right there. I’ll be waiting to hear from you. If you need anything, any time, call me. Either of you.”

  Michael nodded. “Thanks, Nic.” After Jacinto cut the connection, he yawned. “I should get going.” He stood up, and so did Jacinto and Val. They exchanged goodnights, and Jacinto went to the kitchen.

  As Michael turned to leave, Val asked him, “Can you do me a favor?”

  He stopped. “Yeah, sure. What?”

  “Will you come by tomorrow night? To check in?” They were only doing the calls with Nic on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, but she knew she’d feel better if she saw him sooner.

  His expression softened. “Yeah, of course.”

  She held back from asking him for another hug, but his tenderness and vigilant devotion wrapped around her like an embrace.

  *

  The next day at lunch, Val sat down in the cafeteria with Britt and Mia. It had become a habit so easily, and Val mostly listened as they discussed all kinds of things: their parents, youthful social media celebrities, dogs, and Mia’s fanfiction. Without having a particular opinion, Val agreed with Britt that Mia’s new story sounded amazing.

  “I put it up last week, and nobody’s commented on it yet,” Mia said sadly. “When Megan was on there, she’d always comment on it the next day.”

  Britt scowled. “It’s like she totally disappeared.”

  “She got kicked out of this school?” Val asked. “Because she misbehaved?”

  Britt and Mia exchanged glances, and then Britt leaned in closer to whisper, “She got pregnant.”

  “That’s awfully young to have a baby,” Val said, and immediately regretted it. Who was she to judge? Maybe the girl had a lot of help from her family. “But if she wanted to, then I’m glad she did.”

  Britt and Mia stared at her as though she’d started speaking Hindi.

  “She didn’t want to have a baby,” Mia said.

  “Then why—” Far too late, Val caught herself. She’d read the brief, and she should’ve remembered. Their parents didn’t encourage birth control, and the school didn’t distribute it. “I’m sure she just got carried away.”

  “But here’s the thing.” Britt was half whispering again. “She didn’t.”

  Val peered at her. “She didn’t what?”

  “She didn’t have sex! She was a virgin.” Mia’s expression was dubious, but she nodded.

  “That’s not possible,” Val said.

  “She would’ve told us if she had,” Britt said. “We told each other everything.”

  What in the world? “That is really wei
rd.”

  “And Selena was a virgin too,” Mia added.

  “What?” Now they were teasing her. Weren’t they?

  Britt took another drink of her Diet Coke. “Last spring, she got pregnant and had to go to Living Hope. And she said she never had sex, either. Her parents tried to make her say she did at confession, and she wouldn’t do it.”

  “She was super religious too,” Mia said. “She always wore this promise ring her parents gave her for her quinceañera. She wasn’t going to take it off until she got a wedding ring.”

  The hairs on the back of Val’s neck prickled. “Where did you say she went to?”

  “Living Hope House,” Britt said. “It’s, like, this place for pregnant teenagers.”

  Mia nodded. “Catholic ones.”

  “Where is it?”

  Britt shrugged. “It’s like a secret? I guess they want privacy.”

  This could mean anything. If one girl had claimed to be a virgin, the other one might’ve decided to as well. So many things about high school life were strange to her; why should this surprise her? “I hope your friend is doing okay,” Val said. “And the baby too.”

  “The babies get adopted,” Mia explained. “So the girls can still go to college.”

  The conversation turned to colleges and test scores. Val finished her pasta salad—a vegan pesto this time, with fresh tomatoes and broccoli—and took out the other tray in her bento box. “Do you want a brownie?” she asked the other two girls. “I brought extra for you.” She was proud of them. She and Jacinto had first attempted making coconut cupcakes, but they’d been a disaster. The chocolate brownies had turned out perfectly, though—moist and decadent, with frosting.

  Britt looked pained. “I shouldn’t.”

  Mia sighed. “Me neither.”

  Val shrugged, disappointed.

  As she took a bite of the brownie—if anything, it tasted even more delicious than the one she’d had last night—Britt said, “I’m trying to lose fifteen pounds before summer.”

  “Why?” Val asked.

  “I don’t know,” Britt said, her voice wry. “So boys will like me?”

  Val’s face heated. She was plumper than Britt. “You don’t have to lose weight for boys to like you.”

  Britt shook her head. “They don’t want to have you for a girlfriend. Because the other boys will tease him.”

  That wasn’t true at all—at least, not in Manus Sancti. She knew that. So why did it bother her so much?

  “Don’t say that to Melody,” Mia said. “She’s body positive.” She sounded proud of Val.

  Val had always believed that all bodies were beautiful. While she didn’t inspire as much desire as some women she knew, she certainly inspired some. Frankly, more men wanted her than vice versa. But that was mostly because she’d never been interested in a liaison outside of a real romance, and she’d always been pining for Michael.

  Britt asked Val, “How are you so confident?”

  “Why shouldn’t I be?” she asked, even as she could feel her confidence slipping away.

  She wanted to be angry, but she knew Britt hadn’t meant to hurt her. She’d done so, anyway. No one in Manus Sancti would say rude things like this.

  Val finished the brownie only out of stubbornness, and it didn’t taste nearly so good as they had before.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Michael came over to the house that night as Val had requested, ringing the bell twice before letting himself in.

  Val was curled up at the end of the sofa in the silk robe she’d been wearing when he’d first seen her after coming back to life. She was watching something on a tablet—anime, he guessed by the sound of it, though she had it turned down low.

  He recalled her convincing him and Jonathan to watch a particular program, more than once, insisting they’d come to love it. They hadn’t, but her beauty now and the memory brought an ache to his throat. He swallowed.

  She looked up, turning off the program and setting it aside. “Salaam.”

  He sat down on the other end of the sofa. “Is Jacinto in bed?” She nodded. No surprise there, at this late hour. “Are you feeling stronger again? After Reading all those people yesterday?”

  She nodded, but her mouth turned down, and her brown eyes didn’t have their usual soft warmth. He recalled her saying once that she rewatched old anime shows when she was feeling sad, finding comfort in familiar storylines.

  “What’s the matter?” Had she said or done something to reveal their identity?

  “Nothing. It’s stupid.” She forced a smile.

  “No, come on. What happened?” Alarm rose in him. There were so many ways for this to go wrong, and she had no experience.

  She was still clutching the tablet, and she abruptly set it on the side table. “You know that girl Britt?” He nodded. “She talked about being fat. Like it was this terrible thing.”

  Michael laughed. He’d been afraid the mission had been compromised, and instead, she had her mind on stupid teenage girl talk.

  She looked at him as though he’d slapped her in the face.

  “You don’t believe that,” he said. This was ridiculous. “Besides, empaths are never skinny. Unless you’re drug addicts.” It was easy for empaths to develop dependencies like that. He was grateful that Val didn’t have that problem.

  “So it’s only okay because I’m an empath?”

  “What? No.” What was going on here? “Why would everyone be skinny?”

  Her eyes glossed over with threatening tears. “She was talking about losing weight, and it made me feel ugly.”

  Shit. He shouldn’t have laughed. He’d spent way more time with sonámbulas than she had, since he’d gone to school. He knew they felt more pressure to look certain ways. Val had always been so sheltered and secluded, with such limited interactions outside of Manus Sancti. But he never, in a million years, would’ve guessed she’d worry like this, and the fact that she did was like a stab in the heart.

  He moved closer to her on the couch, wanting to reach out and take her hand or wrap his arms around her, barely holding back. He had so little in the way of defenses around her, and he couldn’t take this. “Valentina, come on,” he said quietly. “You know you’re beautiful.” How could she not? She had regular access to mirrors…and again, she was an empath. “You must sense other people lusting after you.” He’d seen a few looking, at Anantara. He wasn’t the only one.

  “Britt said guys don’t want fat girls for girlfriends.” Val shook her head and wiped at a tear. “I know, it’s stupid. It doesn’t matter.”

  She was killing him. Her emotions did matter.

  So did his. And he’d been denying them for so long. He’d never been good at not saying whatever was on his mind. He couldn’t hold back the words now. “You know how I feel.” His voice came out husky. This was the conversation he’d tried so hard not to have. “We don’t talk about it, but you know.”

  She sniffled. “You don’t want to be involved. As soon as you got your memories back, you were horrified.”

  “I wasn’t…” He shook his head. He should’ve explained why he’d pulled back. It wouldn’t have been easy, or even coherent, especially since he hadn’t completely understood himself. But because he’d said nothing, she’d felt rejected. He should’ve realized that a long time ago.

  The least he could do was explain it all now the best he could.

  “When my memories came back, I was—confused. About what we’d done.”

  She drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around her. “It was my fault,” she murmured. “I knew better, and you didn’t. I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not.”

  Surprise touched her features. “Then why did you pull away?”

  “All of a sudden it was like there were two different versions of you. The one I’d known since she was little, and the one I’d gotten involved with.”

  “Which one am I now?”

  If he kept talking, he was going to cross lin
es he couldn’t walk back from. “I’m trying to pretend it’s only the first one, but you’re both of them now. The one I’ve cared about and loved most of my life, and this…sexy woman I want so badly.” His heart thudded in his chest. “I think I’m in love with you. I don’t know how to stop.”

  “I know you are,” she breathed. “But I didn’t think you’d ever say it.” She returned his gaze, tears glittering on her lashes. “I’ve been in love with you for years. But you already know that.”

  His breath stopped in his lungs for a moment. No, he didn’t know that. “You said a crush.”

  She gave a shaky laugh. “Why did you think I’d hug Jonathan but barely ever touch you?”

  “Um.” He’d noticed that. But it hardly seemed to prove her point. “I figured you liked him better. Which, you know.” He shrugged.

  “No.” Her emphatic tone of voice gratified him. “Getting too close to you would make me all fluttery.”

  “Fluttery,” he repeated, feeling a smile tug at his mouth. Then he shook his head. “You’re not helping me get over it.”

  “Do you have to?” Her brown eyes reflected longing and hurt. “Is it so strange that you knew me as a child?”

  “No. I mean, it is strange, but that’s not even the half of it.”

  “What, then?”

  “You know what it is,” he said. “You’re an empath. Everyone says it makes dating a challenge. I know three other empaths, and they’re single.”

  She winced. This had been the wrong thing to say. “So I’m doomed to be single too?”

  “No. I don’t think that,” he said honestly. “You’re so beautiful, and kind, and… I can’t imagine you winding up alone, unless you wanted to be. But I’ve never…We’re talking about being exclusive, right?”

  She nodded. “I…I don’t think I could do it another way. That’s just me.”

  “I get that. But I’ve never seriously dated anyone. Neither have you. How is that not going to be a disaster?”

  Her lower lip jutted out. Christ help him, it had been a long time since he’d seen her pout, and it shouldn’t have looked as sexy as it did. “Before, you said you hoped you weren’t the kind of man who was scared of a challenge.”