“This is the address Michael—” I could not, for the life of me, call him Mike. “—gave us?” After Liz nodded, I reassessed the picture. It looked no different from the other buildings around it. It was unremarkable, considering its surroundings. The perfect place for a top-secret organization that, supposedly, had a huge underground bunker that was supposedly the Order’s vault for surviving the apocalypse.
If Michael hadn’t been compelled at the time, I’d have trouble believing it.
“Yes. I’ve tried to secure blueprints, so we don’t just storm in the front door, but their systems are too good. I can’t find records of this building anywhere.” Liz flipped the laptop to show Gabriel. He looked unimpressed, like he already knew what the building looked like. “If I can’t find the blueprints—”
“We will storm through the front,” Crixis mocked her, his legs outstretched to the empty seat across from him.
Gabriel was not the only one who shot him a glare; Liz did, too. “They will shoot us immediately, especially after the squad they sent to the house failed to report back. I’ve been locked out of all systems. The Council knows I know the truth. They know we’re coming.”
“We have him,” Crixis spoke of Gabriel. “Surely there is a way we could use him to our advantage?” His voice took on an even worse tone, like he was speaking to a second grader, a child who couldn’t understand what he was talking about. “Even if he is too lovesick to call forth his Devil powers, we could use him as a bartering tool. Offer him in exchange for a place in the vault as they prepare for Armageddon.”
“That…” Liz’s quick reply stopped. She closed the laptop, standing. “That’s not a terrible idea. It just might work, if we play it right.” She hummed as she went to her seat, stopping for only a moment when she squeezed her eyes shut. Motion sickness from gazing out of the window and seeing nothing but blue water for miles.
Crixis sunk into his seat, his posture as slouched as it could get as he said, “This is the team that foiled my every plan? I am deeply ashamed.”
Gabriel waited a moment before muttering, “Not as ashamed as I am, for not figuring out a way to purify you before you became a royal pain in my—”
“Gabriel,” I cut in with a forced laugh. “That’s enough. What happened to playing nice?”
“I said I would try,” the blonde responded with a shrug. “I didn’t say I’d do it.”
I held back from rolling my eyes. I rolled my eyes so much they were likely to just pop out any day now. I leaned back, refusing to pay any more heed to the conversation between Gabriel and Crixis. And by conversation, I meant the bickering. The back and forth insults. Never-ending, way too much.
Talk about annoying.
Sighing, I imagined I was in my bed, under the covers. That night enveloped the world—or at least my half of it—and the air was crisp and cool. The perfect sleeping weather. A temperature so nice it was rare for North Carolina to have if it wasn’t winter. What could I say? I liked being snug under a thousand blankets, a cocoon of warmth, all tucked in.
I pictured heat beside me, an arm draped over me, tan and strong. Tattoos or not, white hair or not, Gabriel was still the model of pure male attractiveness. To me, anyway. I loved the way he looked years before I realized I was also in love with him. Celtic cross tattoo on his chest, gotten over a year ago when Michael lost a bet as to who could shove more marshmallows into their mouth: Gabriel or me.
Hint, it wasn’t Gabriel. The key was how you put them in, not shoving them all in willy-nilly.
How Gabriel would fit behind me, his body dwarfing mine, how he’d pull me in tighter when I tried to wake up and start the day before he was ready. He would hold me to him with an iron grip, stronger than me by far, refusing to let me go. And I’d give up fighting eventually, squirming against him just for fun. I’d rile him up, make him whisper my name into my ear, tuck the hair behind it.
Yes, that would be heaven, wouldn’t it? We’d have to test it out after this.
Since Michael wasn’t our Guardian anymore, since the Council was the Order, did we have to go back to school when we went home? Would the house even still be our home? There was so much death inside its walls, too much blood coating every memory. Truly, the house was bad luck. It wasn’t until we moved here when my life was turned upside-down on a daily basis. Maybe we should move. Another state, maybe even another country. The prospect of leaving the house, of not returning to school, brought me happiness.
You’d think I was a normal teenager for the way I hated public education.
I didn’t want to think about the house, so I let my mind wander, roaming until it found something better to muse about. What would Gabriel and I do after this? We probably didn’t have to go back to school, since I didn’t see how they could make us, because I’d told Liz I was done being a Purifier. Her entire argument against quitting was mute now, because the Council was the Order. The precious, hoity-toity Council was full of Templar Knights who wanted to end the world. Take that as a counterargument, Liz.
It was at that moment when I had a strange thought. What would Liz do after this? She’d spent her whole life working for the Council, filling out paperwork and being their go-to dog. I knew she didn’t need to send in a resignation letter or put in her two weeks’ notice; she was as fired as a person could get. Did she have any other experience? What job would she get? What would she do? You needed money to survive in this world…
If my eyes weren’t already closed, they would’ve widened as far as possible. I would have to get a job. Gabriel would have to get a job. We were used to living off the Council—and who knew where they got their money—so what the heck were we going to do? We had no marketable skills, unless you could count our years of offensive and defensive training. Maybe we could be self-defense teachers, but I was sure they needed certifications or something. You couldn’t just call yourself a self-defense teacher and teach kids. There were laws and stuff, I thought.
Crap. Who knew being an adult was so hard? No wonder the Council worked Purifiers until they were dead. What else would they do with them? We were soldiers, nothing else. I could barely copy and paste on the computer, much to the amusement of my classmates. I was so technologically behind; would I ever catch up? My childhood wasn’t spent learning how to type fast and accurately, or how to use certain computer programs; I learned how to wield a stake, how to best impale something around the rib cage because going through it was a lot harder than it looked in the movies.
Maybe it was my pessimism talking, but I had a feeling life was going to be anything but easy after we dealt with the Council/Order.
To last through this flight without tearing my hair out or overthinking everything I could possibly overthink, I did my best to mute my thoughts. I shut them up, imagined a beach, or what I pictured a beach to be like, since I’d never been to one. The gentle waves, the lapping water, the warm, salty air…
“Does she always sleep like that?” A deep voice asked. Max. “With her mouth hanging open?”
“She’d kill me if I said yes.” That voice belonged to Gabriel. “But yes, she does.”
I slowly came to, aware the boys were asking for a whooping. When I glanced out the rounded rectangular window near me, I saw we had landed sometime while I was asleep. Funny. I didn’t even recall falling asleep. I sent both Gabriel and Max glares, though the glares must’ve lost their effectiveness with my half-awake state.
Jerking myself, I stood and went near Liz by the door. Our luggage was already down, the pilot and Crixis both gone. We were just waiting for his signal, I guessed. The signal he was done compelling everyone he could get his hands on.
I saw Liz’s strange expression. “What’s wrong?”
“My sister,” she said slowly. “She’s not answering. The Council—the Order—knows I have a sister. What if they…” Liz couldn’t say it; she didn’t have to. We both knew what she meant, just like we both knew it was very possible.
The Order was a
vicious beast.
Chapter Nineteen - Liz
The mere possibility the Order had done something to my sister, Amelia, caused me to be on edge the entire drive to her flat. We hailed a cab as soon as we were on the street, and the cabbie took one look at our huge party and told us his vehicle would not fit us all. Crixis stayed out, told me he’d meet us there, that he’d run. In all probability, he’d get there before we did, thanks to all the traffic.
Blasted traffic.
My stomach was in knots the entire way. What should only have taken us ten minutes actually took thirty. There must’ve been some parade or maybe an accident. I didn’t know; after traveling to America, I was so out of touch with everything.
All I could think about was Ames. What if something happened to her on account of me? She wasn’t a part of the Council or the Order; she was just a schoolteacher. She didn’t even know about the supernatural creatures roaming the streets with us. Ames was as innocent as you could get. If the Order did something to her, I’d…what? What could I do?
What could any of us do? We weren’t an army. Sure, we had a greater Daywalker and whatever Gabriel was, but it still didn’t seem like very good odds.
Oh, Ames, I willed. I pray you’re all right.
My sister wasn’t the type to not answer her phone, as long as she wasn’t working. It was the weekend, and last I heard, she was so excited I was coming she’d even canceled her date with her boyfriend so she could spend some time with me. She didn’t know the reason for my visit was work-related, or why we’d need to bunk at her flat instead of mine. If the Order took her, hurt her…I could hardly think about it. I’d go crazy in this car ride, trying to figure out a way to get them back.
Because if something happened to Ames, it’d be personal.
It wasn’t to say it wasn’t already personal; Michael had made it personal the moment he chose to have another relationship with me, when he lied to me about everything. I was past the point of wanting to know if it all was a lie, because I wasn’t certain which one would be worse—our initial relationship was real, but our rekindling was fake because it went along with his plan, or it was all a sham from the beginning. Both options hurt me. Both made me want to crawl under a rock and stay there.
Michael. How could you have done this?
I didn’t get the chance to ask him. I wanted to, but perhaps it was a good thing I didn’t. Just looking at him again had made me want to get violently ill. The betrayal hurt so much. Would I ever get over it? Would I ever be able to look back and not hate myself for falling for his lies?
He wasn’t even an Englishman. His accent was fake. That alone should have alerted me, I should have detected it, but his accent wasn’t the stereotypical fake American-English accent; it sounded as real as a voice could be.
In my lap, my hands shook, and I stared at the cars we passed, at the people walking on the sidewalks, ignorant to the fact there was a secret organization ready to destroy the world right in their backyards.
That was how it always was, though. No one ever truly knew what went on under their noses. They were content with their lives, willing to overlook an odd occurrence or two if it meant their belief system would remain unchanged. When faced with the truth of the world, the truth of Demons and supernatural, most wouldn’t believe it.
They would, however, believe it if the entire world was consumed in Hellfire and no amount of water or chemicals dropped from planes could stop it. Yes, that would force them to change their outlook quickly. It would also cause the Demons to step out of hiding; the Hellfire would go after them, too.
Ridding the world of Demons did not sound like a terrible goal. In fact, it was the Council’s goal for hundreds of years. But to do so by razing the world in fire? That was pure madness on the Order’s part.
The three Purifiers sat in the backseat; I was able to look at them through the rearview mirror. Max sat to the left, tugging at the neckline of his shirt and fixing his glasses every so often. His mouth was pursed, and he was lost in thought. I knew he dated the Morpher girl, Claire, but something like that could not last, even if I wasn’t against it—which I was.
Morphers, historically, stuck to packs of their own making. They kept their bloodlines pure, and their so-called marriages were often settled on by parents with no say of the kids themselves. If Claire didn’t belong to a pack now, she would feel restless until she found one. She would stick to her own kind, and if she and Max lasted that long, Max would be devastated.
I had a startling thought. Max was underage. All his paperwork said he was just under seventeen; the youngest of the batch of Purifiers. He was intelligent, so he skipped a grade in school when he tested. Assuming we survived this, would I have to remain his guardian? Not like a Council Guardian, but a parental guardian?
The sudden prospect made me feel uneasy. I wasn’t the type of woman who wanted kids. I was all about my career, focusing on what was important, what brought the money in. I couldn’t give it up to take care of a teenage boy, could I? And that didn’t even bring up Kass, for she was underage, too. Gabriel was the only adult, legally.
I couldn’t take care of them both. I had…
It hit me hard, out of the blue, even though I knew it was true: I didn’t have a job anymore. The Council was the Order, and the Order wanted us dead. The only one they wanted was Gabriel. In fact, he was the only reason I was still alive right now. Vanessa would’ve killed me with no hesitation. All my coworkers and supposed friends would’ve killed me had Gabriel not stepped in and killed them instead.
Oh, dear. What was I going to do? I had no degree, no experience doing anything else. And I most certainly could not put my job experience on my resume, because there was no Council, because there was no supervisor to call and discuss my work ethic with. I literally had nothing. What would I do? What could I do? Work in a cafe, serving coffee? Work in some retail establishment? I wouldn’t last a single day, having to deal with the general population and their stupidity.
I was royally up the creek without a paddle. I had nothing. And my bank accounts, my savings, were all connected to the Council—to the Order. Only God knew if my money was still there. They might’ve drained me dry once they realized I was working with Kass and Gabriel, against Michael and them.
How ironic. Even if we managed to stop the end of the world, it was still Armageddon for me. The end of the life I knew, and the love I thought I had.
I wasn’t the type of person who believed in karma, but it seemed like something was after me at this rate. If it wasn’t karma, then what was it? What followed me around, sprinkling awful luck onto everything I touched?
I wanted to bang my head on the window, but I didn’t want to startle the cabbie. He already gave me the side-eye, wondering why I had three American teenagers in tow. When he asked what we were doing in London, I told him they were staying a semester with me, doing some kind of exchange program. It was the only lie I could think of on the spot. But then I realized how odd it might be for multiple teenagers to stay with the same exchange family. Usually, it was one per household, wasn’t it?
I didn’t know these things. I never had to think about these things before. My last thought of schooling was when I graduated years ago, and I never once looked back after the Council saw my test scores and poached me before I had even received my diploma. Ames was fortunate they didn’t look twice at her, and our parents had been ecstatic I was offered a job earning more than the both of them combined. What fools we all were. If something looked too good to be true, that’s because it usually was.
Gabriel and Kass were busy whispering to each other, holding hands. They’d been inseparable ever since returning to the house, with Gabriel no longer murderous. The old me would’ve put a stop to their shenanigans immediately, for they were practically raised together. They should be more like brother and sister instead of significant others. Plus, Purifiers were not supposed to be in any sort of relationship, especially with civilians. The Council
never made a huge deal of Purifiers not dating each other because typically Purifiers did not work so closely with another Purifier. Usually they were alone with their Guardian. Purifiers dating each other had hardly happened.
But, I had to remind myself, they weren’t Purifiers anymore. The Council was no more, and they were free from that duty, if we all lived through this. They could date each other, if they were so inclined, but I still couldn’t help but feel a little weirded out by it. Michael had them in the same house for years after Koath was forced to return to be investigated. At least they didn’t act on their feelings until now. I…did not want to think about how close their rooms were in that house. The last thing I needed to contend with after this ordeal was two teenagers in my care and a baby as a result of unsafe sex between two ignorant teens.
A baby. The word itself brought a shiver to my spine. In all my life, I had never been the girl who thought of her wedding, of the babies I’d have. I didn’t like babies. I thought they were ugly, squishy things and were far too needy. I was much more a cat person.
Yeah, no babies for Gabriel and Kass. I could handle one year of guardianship between Max and Kass—I could not handle their guardianship and a baby.
I fiddled with the straps on my purse. We turned down a side street that was full of flats, little houses pushed up against each other, three floors each, including their basement walk-ins. Each had a single tree before them, bike racks along every few. It was a homey street, one that Ames was lucky enough to afford, for it wasn’t too far from the heart of London, where she worked.
My stomach dropped as we pulled up to see her door was already open.
This didn’t bode well.
I reached for my wallet as the cabbie put the vehicle into park. The kids got out of the back; Max went for the luggage while Gabriel and Kass giggled like typical schoolchildren who were stuck in the lovey-dovey part of their relationship, utterly oblivious to the fact Ames’s door hung ajar.
The Order (Nightwalkers Book 8) Page 11
