Third Strike

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Third Strike Page 15

by Heather Brewer


  Dorian glanced over his shoulder at the door, which swung open on its own. Paty stepped inside the room and the door closed behind her without anyone touching it. The sight of the bruises on her arms—bruises that Joss had caused—made him avert his eyes, despite the fact that every one of them had been deserved. They had been fighting, after all. Paty had been trying to hurt him. Maybe to kill him.

  But that was past. Now he was just happy that Cecile would have a loving, protective mother figure with her for as long as she needed it.

  Dorian said, “I’ve made arrangements for Paty and Cecile to have a happy, fulfilling life. One away from the evil of Em, away from the stubborn ruthlessness of the Slayer Society, on the outskirts of a small village in Romania. I spent my vampire youth there. They will have every need fulfilled and will want for nothing.”

  It sounded ideal. So why was Joss’s heart breaking at the idea of it?

  “But there is a price.” Dorian whispered, his eyes locked on Joss’s. “There is always a price.”

  Joss could feel his bottom lip quivering slightly. He fought to keep his tone confident. He had to be strong for his sister. “What is it?”

  “In order to protect them, you must never seek them out.” Never. The word echoed through Joss’s core. It sounded so . . . final. “Certain vampires and the Society to which you are duty-bound would surely follow you to your sister and Paty and do them harm. They must exist as quietly as possible in order to survive. You must tell the Slayer Society that Paty perished at my hand and that I was solely responsible for the human deaths in Santa Carla. It is the only way.”

  Joss looked from Dorian to Paty to his baby sister. Cecile smiled a small, sweet smile up at him. It was a smile that had been missing from his life for far too long, and one that he immediately locked inside his memory forever. Her eyes glistened with tears, and Joss couldn’t tell if they were happy tears or sad. He just knew that he was grateful to see them once again. “Jossie? I don’t wanna go away. I don’t wanna be away from you again. But if I gotta go, I wanna go with Paty. She’s like Mommy.”

  Joss glanced at Paty. Cecile was right to view her in such a way. Paty was so much like their mother before the mourning, before the medication. She was warm, caring, loving. Everything that Cecile needed. Sending her to live with Paty was the only way to protect her, to save her. He placed another kiss on her brow, this one a symbol of his good-bye. He could live in peace, knowing that she was alive and safe. Knowing that by not seeking her out, he could finally save her.

  He had to let her go. Because he’d do anything to save her, and sending her away was part of that. He’d do anything. He’d do it all.

  For Cecile.

  19

  A LONG KISS GOOD-BYE

  “Careful. It’s still hot.” His mom smiled at him as she set the tray over his lap. On it was a steaming bowl of chicken noodle soup, a crisp white cloth napkin, a well-polished spoon, a glass of orange juice, and one of those fancy hazelnut chocolate treats, wrapped in gold-colored foil. Beside the foil-wrapped treat lay two pain pills on a tiny white paper doily. His shoulder still ached, but not nearly as bad as it had. Still, ever since he got home from the hospital three days before, his mom had been insisting that he take it easy in the comfort of his bed. She brought him his meals and seemed more like the way that she’d been before they’d lost Cecile. Smiling, warm, caring, present. Maybe the thought of losing her son had resonated with her, woke her up from the fog. Maybe his near death had saved his family, the way that nothing else had been able to.

  “Thanks, Mom.” Joss popped the pills into his mouth and chased them with a mouthful of orange juice.

  As he swallowed, his mom fluffed up the pillows behind his back. “Need anything else?”

  Joss shook his head, wondering how long that light would remain in her eyes. She hadn’t been taking as many pills since he’d been home. Her fog seemed to have lifted, but Joss didn’t know how long that might last. “No, I’m good for now.”

  With a pleasant spring in her step, she walked out of his room, leaving the door open a crack. After she’d gone, Joss picked up the remote control and turned on the television. As he flipped through the channels, he thought his only option for entertainment was a pain medication–induced nap, but then he stumbled on an old episode of The Twilight Zone. As he watched the evil little boy wish someone into the cornfield, his bedroom window slid open and Kat hopped inside. His heart beat faster upon seeing her, and he couldn’t help but wonder how she’d managed to get up to the second story of his house.

  “In case you’re wondering, I climbed the rose trellis.” She held up her hands, as if to show him that she’d come unarmed. “Don’t worry. I’m not here to start anything. Dorian told me everything. About Sirus. About you. I’m not mad anymore. I just . . . wanted my dad back, y’know? And then things kinda spiraled out of control. I’d convinced myself that killing Henry would somehow . . . I don’t know . . . hurt you like I couldn’t seem to hurt you otherwise. After all, a regular human is no match for a Slayer. Y’know?”

  Relief flooded through him. Or maybe it was his pain medication kicking in. “I do know. You wanted Sirus back the same way that I wanted Cecile back.”

  “Only you got Cecile back.” She walked across the room and took a seat on the end of his bed, shrugging sadly. “Well . . . kinda.”

  It had been horrible, saying good-bye to his sister. But Joss comforted himself with knowing that he’d done the right thing, in the end. As he met Kat’s eyes, he said, “We’ve both lost our families due to vampires and Slayers, Kat. We’re both humans, trapped in the middle of their conflict.”

  Kat sighed. “It sucks.”

  It did. Royally. “Where will you go now? What will you do?”

  “My aunt and two cousins have a place in this town called Stokerton. They’ve asked me to stay with them, so I guess that’s where I’ll be for a while.” Her gaze fell to the tray perched over his lap. She reached out and took his chocolate treat. She unwrapped it and popped it into her mouth, and only then did Joss have a real craving for chocolate.

  “It’s weird, but . . . I’ll miss you.” He meant what he was saying. He’d miss Kat. He’d miss her presence in his life. She’d been a strange constant for him.

  After she swallowed the mouthful of chocolate, Kat smirked at him. “Don’t worry, I’ll text you.”

  They laughed heartily, and Joss barely noticed that Kat had stood and approached the head end of his bed. He did, however, notice when she pressed her lips to his in a kiss.

  Her lips were soft and sweet. Her kiss had been unexpected. But the act didn’t make him think about any feelings that he might have for Kat. It made him think about Meredith and how very much he missed her.

  He thought that maybe he might one day fall deeply in love with Meredith, if given the chance. And maybe, if he was presented with a miracle of sorts, Meredith Brookstone might fall deeply in love with him. It was a pleasant daydream, and one that Kat’s kiss had sent him spiraling into heartfirst.

  As they parted, ending the kiss, Kat merely smiled at him. He touched his fingertips to his lips and looked at her. “What was that for?”

  “I just never did it before. And I wanted to.”

  The kiss didn’t change the way he felt about Kat. They were friends—just friends. But it did give him the sense that Kat thought that she would never see him again. Thinking about it, he felt the same way. This was it. This was good-bye.

  She hopped back out the window then—out the window and out of his life, maybe forever. Joss wondered if he’d ever see her again, or if they were just thinking the worst, for no good reason.

  It wouldn’t be the first time.

  20

  BREAKING THE SEAL

  Joss had just scurried across the castle battlement with a giant spiked mace in his left hand and a six-foot-long sword in his right, sweat dripping fr
om his brow, his heart thumping loudly in his ears. Behind him was a scourge of angry orcs and their fearless leader, Henry, closing in. The sky above was black with a million arrows, flying toward Joss. As he reached the end of the battlement, he stretched his arm out, wrapping his fingers around the metal ring on the door. He yanked the door open and hurried inside, slamming it behind him in a triumphant move, blocking Henry and his horde outside, the sound of arrows hitting the door like a thousand fists knocking. He turned around and there it was, placed atop a stone pedestal and glowing, gold sparkles fluttering outward from what would soon be his prize. Joss reached out, his fingers just inches, just moments, from grasping the golden heart of Nicktew in his hands. He was there. He’d won.

  Strangely, one of the smaller golden sparkles landed on the back of Joss’s hand. As he watched, it grew and morphed until the sparkle wasn’t a sparkle anymore at all, but a tiny fairy creature. It perched on his hand, a grin spreading across its youthful face. Then it pointed a tiny, innocent-looking finger at Joss . . .

  . . . and his head exploded into a billion pieces.

  Game over. With a gory explosion and amazing graphics, Joss had just lost another round of World of Feycraft: The Quest for the Golden Heart of Nicktew.

  Henry burst into a fit of laughter, dropping his Xbox 360 controller onto his lap. “You suck so bad at this!”

  Joss set his controller on the nightstand, sighing in frustration. He’d never beaten Henry at a video game. Not even once. He was beginning to think that it couldn’t be done. “Yeah. Well. That’s what happens when you’re too busy in actual life to kill fairies and orcs in your fictional one.”

  Though his laughter died down, the grin on his face wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. Henry turned off the console and set his controller on top. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, dude.”

  It was nice that his dad had allowed Henry to hook the Xbox up in Joss’s room, so that Joss had something to do in between reading and resting and waiting for the hole in his shoulder to close. And it was even nicer that he and Henry seemed to be getting along so well. Since he’d been home, things between them had been like the old days, before Slayers and vampires and that whole mess had come between the two cousins. Things had been normal. Fun, even.

  “I am so hungry right now. Kicking your butt really builds up an appetite.” Henry stood, his grin still present, and headed for the door. “You want me to make you a sandwich or something?”

  Recalling the kitchen monstrosities that his cousin had constructed in the past, Joss hesitated to say yes. But the look on Henry’s face—so eager to help, so happy to be hanging out with him—made him relent, despite his taste buds’ protest. “Sure. Just . . . no Skittles this time, okay?”

  Henry snapped his fingers and pointed at Joss on his way out the door. “You got it. One ham and Doritos sandwich, extra pickles, extra mayonnaise, hold the Skittles.”

  A worried crease briefly formed on Joss’s brow then, but it didn’t last. “And two Pepsis!”

  At least he’d have something to wash the taste out of his mouth.

  When the door closed behind Henry, his thoughts immediately shifted to the FedEx envelope in the drawer of his nightstand. His mom had brought it to him this morning, along with a plate full of scrambled eggs and crisp bacon, but Joss hadn’t dared to open it just yet. The white envelope had the sender’s address as that of his uncle Abraham, but he knew who the letter was really from. It was from the Slayer Society, likely notifying him of his next assignment.

  Only Joss wasn’t sure if he really wanted to go on that next assignment. So he hadn’t yet opened the envelope, trying as hard as he could to delay the inevitable.

  Finally, with a moment alone to examine it, Joss pulled open the drawer and withdrew the white envelope. He turned it over in his hands, hesitating briefly before tearing it open. Once it was open, he turned it on its end, dropping its contents into the palm of his other hand. It took him more than a moment to look at what the Society had sent to him. When he looked down, he saw a small, square piece of parchment. It was held closed with a burgundy wax seal which bore the initials S.S. His orders, as he’d expected, had arrived.

  He ran a thumb over the seal, his thoughts on everything that had happened this summer. Sirus. Kat. Cecile. Every moment had felt so big to him, so life-changing. And his life had been changed. Forever.

  What’s more, he felt very much like his mind had been changed as well. About whether or not all vampires were evil. And he wasn’t certain that he wanted to interact with his fellow Slayers until he was more confident in his thought process. But the letter, and by extension the Slayer Society, wouldn’t wait.

  Pinching the wax seal between his hands, he snapped the seal in two. With a deep breath, he unfolded the parchment and began to read.

  Slayer,

  You are hereby ordered to report immediately to London Headquarters to debrief Society elders on your recent activities and the results of your current assignment in Santa Carla, California, in the United States. All travel arrangements have been made and are enclosed herewith. You should know, in preface to your journey here, that your solo mission in Santa Carla was merely a part of your purification over the last year, as was your assignment in New York. Slayers requiring purification face a unique experience and time line to complete that experience, and your purification is still underway.

  You should also be made aware of the following. It is the Society’s belief that you have failed to extinguish the vampires Vladimir Tod and Dorian [last name unknown] due to the fact that your loyalties to the Slayer Society have been wavering. Your faith in our protocol and conduct has weakened, allowing impure thoughts about vampires to enter your young and inexperienced mind, effectively poisoning you. It is our duty, as your brothers and sisters in arms, to purify you of those thoughts and eradicate those questions from your mind. When you arrive at Headquarters, the last and most difficult part of your purification will begin. It will not stop until you have seen the error of your ways and all doubts in the Slayer Society’s motives have been erased.

  The letter wasn’t signed. It was simply stamped with the same initials that were on the wax seal. Joss folded it back up, shaking his head, his brow furrowed in a most disturbed way. He had to go, had to tell them that he was considering leaving their ranks. It was the honorable thing to do. He had to say good-bye, no matter what their threats hinted at.

  A single image, a single memory tormented his thoughts upon finishing the Society’s letter to him. It was a prediction of what was waiting for him in London, of what would happen to him, and he wondered how he would feel about Sirus, Dorian, Vlad, all vampires . . . once the Society had had their fill of purifying him.

  The image playing on a loop in his horrified imagination was the haunting memory of his uncle Abraham, picking up a whip.

  21

  BACK TO NORMAL

  When Joss reached for one of Henry’s suitcases, his shoulder ached, despite the fact that he was using his good arm. His doctor had praised how quickly his healing process had been moving along, not to mention how great he’d been doing in physical therapy. But his shoulder still ached, even after two weeks, and he was still trying to get used to actually using that arm in everyday tasks, so he grabbed the lighter backpack instead.

  Helping Henry carry his bags down to the car wasn’t something that he was really looking forward to. Once Henry left, things would be different, and they wouldn’t be inside the safe, fun bubble of his room. Life would resume, and everything that had been an issue between his cousin and him would likely resurface. The very thought of it made Joss feel a little sad.

  Henry cocked a concerned eyebrow at him. “You got it? Cuz I can carry it if it’s hurting your shoulder too much.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got it.” Gritting his teeth, Joss carried the backpack out the door and down the stairs. He only had to rest
for a moment before he and Henry lugged the bags out the side door. He thought for a moment, as they moved across the lawn to the awaiting car in the driveway, that the pain was getting too much for him, but with a deep breath he managed to push through and set the bag down beside the car’s trunk.

  Big Mike grinned from where he was standing by the driver’s side door. “Look at you, Jossie Boy! Getting around just fine, considering your little accident.”

  “Yeah. I’m getting around all right now. It’s a good thing Henry was there to save me.” He and Henry exchanged a quick, knowing glance before he turned his attention back to his uncle. “Did you have a good trip?”

  “A long one. Made longer by the two cackling hens over there.” He nodded to the passenger side, where Joss’s aunt Matilda was still climbing out of the car.

  She shook her head, laughing, and when she spoke, it was in a berating tone—one that was so familiar between the two of them. “Mike, you just hush now! We hardly talked the whole way. You should consider yourself lucky.”

  “He’s just teasing, Matilda. I’m sure Mike just loves the lyrical sound of our voices.” The voice sounded familiar, and when Joss saw her climb out of the car after Matilda, his heart paused for a moment. Not because of who she was, but because of who she was to Vlad.

  Nelly smiled at Big Mike, despite the fact that he started making clucking noises and flapping his elbows like wings in jest at the two of them. Joss swallowed hard and darted his eyes around, looking for a way out of this moment. The last time he’d seen Nelly was the night that he’d tried to kill her nephew. Talk about an awkward reunion.

 

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