Order of Vespers
Page 10
“Hello, Jasper.”
I sat cross-legged on my new plush couch and grinned. “Howdy, neighbor. How’s it going?”
He cocked his head to the side, considering the question for a long moment. The movement revealed a thick scar on the side of his neck. It was easily six inches long, beginning somewhere behind his ear and snaking its way beneath the collar of his sweater. The scar was pronounced, a testament to a wound so vicious that it dared its owner to revisit the cause every time he looked in the mirror.
He must have noticed my probing stare and attempts to keep my jaw hinged. Rubbing his neck absently, he smiled. “I should ask you the same. Your accommodations. Are they to your satisfaction?”
“Are you kidding? Dude.”
Said accommodations had changed the moment the initiation ceremony had ended. Actually, my entire existence at the Order changed. Before the guys could say boo, Cecilia had whisked me away and dragged me to a small room somewhere above ground. Inside was a treasure chest. Clothes, all in my size, were piled by function and color. Warm jeans and sweaters, dresses for every occasion, workout gear, and fuzzy socks were mine for the taking. And the shoes! Two pairs of trainers, slides in three different colors, flats, boots, cozy slippers, and boots that could only be called shit-kickers awaited my approval.
Who was I to turn down a new wardrobe of stylish, comfortable garments?
I was convinced that they lived by the motto, “go big or go home,” because the gifts kept on coming.
Instead of the dormitory-style room where I’d been confined, I now lived across the hall from Dakarai in what we affectionately called Quasimodo’s Tower. We each had a suite with a small living area, a kitchenette, and a workstation. The cool, blue walls held generic hotel prints, but I didn’t mind since decorating was the last thing on my mind. The bedroom, however, rocked my world. It was twice the size of the one I had at home. And the bathroom.
My eyes rolled back in ecstasy every time I thought about the sweet space I called my own.
Jude and I had always shared a bathroom, first because it had been easier for my parents to bathe and keep track of mischievous twins, and later because it connected our bedrooms. Jack and Jill, I remembered my father calling the style. We’d hated it during middle school. Jude was full of barely teenage funk, and I had been self-conscious about handling my period.
This bathroom? It had a tub big enough for a legitimate soaking experience, a separate shower, and a vanity. It was so big that I could have lined the back wall with boxes tampons, gallons of shampoo and conditioner, and buckets of soap, and no one would have been the wiser.
Shallowness became me. Even She was excited about the tub.
Saving the world has its perks.
Dakarai’s suite of rooms was slightly bigger, but he’d lived there for years and seniority had its privileges. He’d kept his decor minimal with a few black and white photographs of cityscapes on the walls and stacks of books everywhere.
He extended his hand and offered me a three-inch tome. “You should enjoy this,” he said with the grin of someone obsessed with books. “History of ancient religions.”
“Ooh, exciting.”
“Good to see that enthusiasm.”
I felt terrible that Dakarai didn’t catch the sarcasm in my voice. He rarely did. The poor guy thought I was excited about reading something that dense. Heck, he was excited for each of my new experiences. He deserved better than the droll commentary on life. I tried again with real enthusiasm. “Yeah. Please pass along anything helpful. You’re the best.”
Dakarai’s face lit up as he bounced on his heels. “Excellent. When you’re ready, you’ll accompany me to the Circle’s library. It contains all the books collected and written by Circle members since the dawn of the written word. I’ve slept there on more than one occasion.”
He will remain loyal, even in the end.
The end? What the hell? I made a note to have a long conversation with Her about dropping cryptic messages while I was in the middle of a conversation with a corporeal person — the end. Pssh. As if She hadn’t given me enough to ponder. She was making her way to the top of my shit list.
“Why on Earth would you sleep in a library? There are a million other places.”
“The accommodations here are beyond expectations. However, I spend most of my time in the Tower, so the occasional change of scenery is a luxury.” He grinned again. “Being Quasimodo isn’t so bad, yes?”
“If I’d known this was part of the deal, I might not have put up such a fight. How does this all work?”
“The Order takes care of its own.” He shrugged. “You should receive a new laptop and cell phone later today. Did anyone deliver your credit card and personal bank account information?”
“No,” I said slowly. “I didn’t know I was supposed to receive one. I don’t have a lot of money, Dakarai.”
“I know it’s overwhelming. The Order understands the burden it has put upon its members, especially those of us in the Circle. To compensate — ”
“Do you mean bribe?”
Dakarai snorted. “What’s the expression? Six of one, half a dozen of another. The card is paid off, and the account is refreshed at the end of each month.”
“I can’t bring myself to protest.”
“May I?” Dakarai gestured to the seat across from me. When I nodded, he plunked down on the forest green marshmallow monstrosity and stretched his long legs with a groan. “Jordan was not kind in our workout this morning.”
“Is he ever?”
“No, I don’t suppose he understands the concept of kindness when it involves training. Don’t mistake that for the entirety of his personality.”
An uncomfortable silence stretched between us as we took one another’s measure. At his most serene, Dakarai still exuded a nearly tangible aura of energy. She had been right about Dakarai packing serious power. The problem was that I still didn’t know what his power entailed. He could have been a shapeshifter for all I knew.
The supernatural on a grand scale was too new for me to make any assumptions. I wondered if he could peer inside my brain and pick through my thoughts. I’d have died of mortification if Dakarai had access to the dream I had about Jordan sometime in the early hours.
“I’m not sure I want to know him. Period.” A small voice in my head called me on my bullcrap. The guy was an enigma in an attractive package. I reasoned it wasn’t a bad thing as long as I didn’t blurt out that he quickly made it to the top of my hot-guy list.
Sighing, I wrenched my attention away from the scary dude of my dreams and focused on the kind creature in front of me.
Dakarai was dressed in his usual attire of jeans and a lightweight sweater of the finest cashmere. His shoes, however, amused me. He wore a different pair each day, and they rarely matched his outfit. Today brought a pair of high-top Converse sneakers with a graffiti design.
“Your identification. You’ve dropped your last name.”
“Yes.” I frowned because it seemed like a logical choice. “Why?”
Dakarai shrugged and twisted the fingers of his right hand, a nervous habit I’d noticed. “It’s a big decision to shed one’s identity and become anonymous.”
“Last names give one a sense of belonging. My family is dead. Besides, the police want Jasper Andrews. She no longer exists.”
“Nor does your long brown hair.”
I touched my chin-length black hair. It was the only bit of my old life I mourned. Not my friends, not my hometown. My hair. Vanity became me.
“Well, we all make sacrifices,” I said lightly. “What’s up, Obi-Wan?”
He rolled his eyes, already exhausted by my Star Wars references. I’d already asked him if he’d call me his padawan, but he’d shot that down immediately. Nor did he consent to be the Yogi to my Boo-Boo, Batman to my Robin, or the Bill to my Ted in this most excellent adventure. The superhero capes had been rejected before I’d had a chance to show him my crude design.
My head hurt. I’d spent years cultivating a mask of indifference. It had been my only defense against the rumors and outlandish allegations about my and Jude’s unusual abilities.
“You don’t understand. If I didn’t laugh, I’d drown myself in my sorrows, and that’s not acceptable.” I exhaled and plastered a grin on my face. “On another note, I don’t have a high school diploma.”
“Yes, you do,” he replied. “Your records are being expunged as we speak. The police will assume you had been shipped off to a boarding school, the Vesparia Academy. Your diploma should arrive within the next few weeks.”
“My friend, Adam?”
Dakarai’s eyes darkened. “Gone. He disappeared shortly after he confronted you. I hope I am the one to find him.”
This one would use unimaginable power to destroy your enemies. Keep him close.
“Close or closer?”
“I’m sorry?”
Embarrassment warmed my cheeks. I had to get this under control. The Circle’s worries would multiply a thousand-fold if I kept talking to myself. They probably had a dungeon here exclusively for folks who lost their crap and babbled incoherently. “Just thinking.”
“Ah. There’s much to digest.”
“Yeah.” I looked at him. “I’m guessing this wasn’t a purely social call.”
“It’s time,” he said quietly.
My stomach sank. I looked around the room and my dreams of taking a few weeks to read, nap, and sneak around the compound dissipated like steam after a wonderfully hot shower. The short romance with normalcy was over before it began. “I’m ready.”
The grin returned as he clapped his hands together. “Fan-friggin-tastic,” he said in his odd, lilting accent. “Under normal circumstances, you would be one of ten or so initiates and would progress as a class.”
The word “class” put me in exam prep mode. I was good under pressure. I was better at test taking. (Screw you, Jude. My SAT scores were better.)
I pushed up the sleeves of the hooded sweatshirt I’d stolen from my brother and pulled my chin-length hair into a tight bun. My fingers itched for a pen or a laptop to take notes. Neurons fired on all cylinders, and my mental engine purred.
Ooh, excited, are we? Try not to have the same kind of breakdown you normally have around finals. Your reputation as a hysterical little girl precedes you.
Maybe I didn’t have to have that stern talk. She kept an eye on the details, like the fact that my circumstances were far from normal, even there. “Since I’m so powerful and unstable, I need individual tutoring.”
“Yes. It may be hard to believe, but this precaution is for your safety.” Dakarai’s face tightened. “My tutoring was more restrictive than yours. Be grateful.”
What had they done to this poor man? Why?
“Right. Okay. Can you tell me what’s going to happen? Or is it one of those things I’ll learn as I go along?”
“You’ll receive training from the individual Circle members and shadow us as we go about our jobs.” His eyes took in my body with frank interest. He blinked, and all that remained was a familial concern. I must have imagined it. “Jordan is going to destroy you during training.”
“Hey,” I said, “I’m already in decent shape.”
“Not by his standards. Cecilia will certainly find you lacking, and Mikael…” The corners of his lips twitched. “I have no doubt he’ll surprise us. Please be kind in your dealings with him. Admittedly, he is odd and prickly, but in many ways, he’s as alone as we are. More, because he cannot control his abilities.”
“Why?”
“Because Mikael’s visions are related to human decisions, which change constantly. He has little agency over his life and has difficulty functioning outside of the Order.”
“That’s awful. Is he okay?”
“If you’re inquiring as to his emotional well-being, you’ll have to talk to him. Mikael is quiet. Shy. He tutors the children here when he’s not plagued by the headaches the visions cause. He may not say much but being in the company of accepting people is good for him. When he does talk, he’s quite interesting.”
Mikael had clasped my hand like it was a lifeline. Mikael tried to reassure me that he was the least terrifying of the group. I’d rebuffed him. No wonder he hadn’t visited.
“Oof, and I thought I had it bad. I’ll be sure to chat with him the next time our paths cross. What about you?”
Dakarai slumped in his chair. The incident in the chamber of the High Council weighed heavily on his conscience as did Danny’s accusations. He’d told me as much the previous night over the simple dinner of chicken breasts, mashed potatoes, and salad. His voice was tired, resigned even. “You might grow to hate me even more than Jordan.”
“I don’t hate him. He’s nice enough when he’s not terrifying. Should I be scared of you as well?”
“Yes.”
These one-word answers were going to make me torch a building. Yes. What the hell kind of answer was that? Bull. That’s what it was. Jordan and Mikael had topped my list of scary dudes. Dakarai wanted me to add him as well. Fan-friggin-tastic, as he said. I threw my hands in the air. Be scared of me, Jasper. I won’t tell you why, so don’t worry your pretty little head about it, Jasper. You’re the least scary person here, Jasper. Hell.
Too soon to torch. It may be an option later.
“Yes? Care to elaborate?”
“No. Your concern is what I can teach you. We will spend several weeks delving into the source of your abilities, the soul fire, and learning to channel it safely and at your command.”
“Groovy. On to more important things. When do we begin?” Hoping for an answer of never was foolish. Hell, I’d have taken a week.
“Tomorrow. Be ready at five.”
“In the morning?”
I wasn’t a morning person. Never had been, much to the disappointment of my early rising parents. Getting out of bed before dawn was a cardinal sin in my book.
“Yes. Your day begins with Jordan. Good luck.”
✽ ✽ ✽
The door of my suite quaked under the force of a series of rapid blows, shaking the generic frames on my pale cream walls and jerking me out of the deepest sleep I’ve had in ages. I looked around for a weapon and, finding nothing obvious, I grabbed the lamp on my bedside table. It would do in a pinch and had the potential to gain me a few precious seconds in an attack. Or so I’d seen on television. I wedged myself behind the couch in the living room and waited.
The door shuddered again.
“This is your wake-up call,” Jordan called. “Ten minutes and I’m breaking the door down. Dress for the gym.”
Jordan? Ten minutes? Gym?
My brain struggled to free itself from the dregs of sleep and comprehend what was happening. It was like studying calculus after midnight. Nearly impossible to process and unlikely to be remembered.
“Jasper, you’re down to eight minutes. I will throw you over my shoulder and take you as you are. If you want to work out in pajamas and bare feet that’s up to you.”
I scrambled to my feet, ran into my bedroom, and shoved my limbs into the workout gear that had mysteriously appeared in my chest of drawers. Somehow, I managed to do everything and open my door with thirty seconds to spare.
He scowled down the nearly ten inches of height between us and bit back a sigh of exasperation. “When I say five, you’re to be ready to go at five. That means dressed, fed, watered, and prepared. Understood?”
My brain barely processed the words. It couldn’t, not with the more pressing matter at the forefront of my thoughts. “Coffee?”
“You had your chance. It’s now five-fifteen.”
“Handle my own business before we meet. Got it. Should I meet you in the gym from now on? At five?”
“She can be taught,” he drawled. “Yes. If I
can wake up to train you, you can be there on time.”
He turned on his heel and glided down the hallway toward the elevators with the grace of a predator on a hunt. In the silence of this corridor, his footfalls made no sound, unlike my own unintentional elephant stomps.
Jordan muttered under his breath about his cooling coffee and the time I’d wasted. I might have been imagining it, but his fists opened and closed a few times as if restraining himself from punching me.
This guy was a poster-dude for aggressive tension. He pulsed with it, and if I could see auras, I was confident that his would have been an angry red.
If this was Jordan cranky, I didn’t want to see him angry.
“Sorry, boss,” I said meekly as we waited at the sleek white elevator doors.
“It’s fine. Don’t let it happen again,” he said, seemingly mollified by the apology. Even though he had the distinctive bloodshot eyes of someone nursing a hangover, he suddenly appeared younger and less dangerous. He could have been any one of the guys who played against my brother in pickup basketball games. “We’ll take it easy today. I’ll have you run through a series of exercises to assess your overall conditioning. Tomorrow, we’ll go to the armory. I need to see your level of comfort and ability to pick up skills with different weapons.”
“Here’s a dumb question,” I said through a yawn. “I can cause explosions. Why do I need a weapon?”
“You have an enemy who wants to kill you. Do you wait for your erratic abilities to kick in? Or do you shoot the asshole in the head and move on with your day?”
Fair enough.
“I’d rather not shoot anyone in the head.”
Jordan’s unblinking azure eyes hinted at the ghosts of his victims who accompanied him night and day. “If someone threatens mine, I will do whatever is necessary to keep them safe. The people we’re trying to find? They killed your family, and they’ll continue to kill other innocent people. When I find them, my abilities will be the least of their concerns.”
Damn.
Being inducted into a mystical order, I didn’t fully understand and thinking of myself as a superhero-in-training had obscured my vision. The concept of saving the world had become an abstract overnight, divorced from the names and faces of the people who died. Separate from my dead parents and siblings. My cheeks heated as I ducked my head in shame. “I’m sorry.”