Charity studies the darkening sky above us. “We need to set up camp. We won’t be able to find her in this darkness.”
Awan shoots me a quick look, before adding, “Agreed. We might lose the trail.”
The faint glow of the protector burns against the dark, but soon we won’t be able to make out much else.
“I’ve got a flashlight.” As I say it, Charity and Awan share a frown. “What?”
“You’d attract the cold ones,” Awan says. “And since we’re close to Bryar, you’d likely lead them directly to her.” He sighs and dares to clasp my shoulder like old times. “She’s probably nearby, stopping for the night. We’ll be able to hear her if she runs into any trouble.”
“If she’s close, then let’s just keep going,” I insist.
Awan lets out a low whistle, summoning his bronze cat. It stretches in front of him, their eyes locked. Then it yawns, much like a real lion, turns and dashes off into the woods.
“She’s an hour or so away,” Awan says. “The protector will find her and keep her safe. Don’t worry. Now, let’s rest or we might run into trouble ourselves.”
Charity doesn’t wait to be told twice. She unzips her backpack and takes out two bundles of dried herbs—entire dried plants with their stems, leaves and flowers bound into each bundle. She lights their ends with a match, then takes a bundle in each hand and starts moving them in a complex pattern. Up and down, to the sides, forming the angles of invisible triangles as she moves in a circle around us.
There’s a faint purple glow swimming around us like a dome once she’s done chanting in murmurs.
“It looks like the dome in the Town Square monument,” I say.
“It is.” Charity unfurls her yoga mat and positions it on the soft ground while I take out a Thermo blanket. “The dome will keep us from attracting any cold ones. It will only last for a few hours without an anchor, but that should be enough. We’re cloaked.”
I study the purple dome. “What exactly does ‘cloaked’ mean in this context?”
Charity sits on the edge of the yoga mat, motioning for us to join her. I let Awan sit next to Charity—my phantom wingman instinct still making trivial calls like this.
“It means our scent, our chatter, even our bodies’ warmth will be harder to detect. It doesn’t make us invisible,” she emphasizes. “Just harder to find.”
“That will do.” Awan spreads the blanket over the three of us, making sure it covers Charity. “We’ll wake up early and go snatch your sister.” He nuzzles a little closer to Charity, pulling the blanket with him, so I feel a gust of cold air. “You’d better daze her head right up with the strongest charm you’ve got, because I’m not hunting her down again.”
Charity chuckles, but I don’t buy that threat for a second. A night out under the stars with his dream girl is worth the hassle of pursuing Bryar.
Chapter 7. Cami
DAD REGARDS ME WITH a healthy dose of suspicion. “A camping trip?”
“Just with a few of the legacies.” I stuff a warm cardigan into my duffel bag, avoiding his gaze. “Vanessa’s coming. Maybe Charity.”
I hear him shuffle and lean against the frame of my bedroom door. I can’t judge if he’s amused or displeased.
“And you never thought to mention it until now?”
“It was a last-minute idea,” I say. “And I had the dodgeball game to worry about.”
Thankfully, we already covered that at length last night. I probably should have told him about my planned trip then, but I didn’t want to give him too much time to think about it. I’m cutting it close now, though.
“I’m meeting Vanessa at ten.” To emphasize the rush, I snag a pair of t-shirts and stuff them in the bag. Then, I chance a glance at Dad. “Look, I’m packing sweaters, jeans and t-shirts. We’ll be making smores and telling ghost stories. Please. It would mean a lot to me if I could go make friends with the neighbors.”
With some guilt, I sense that I’ve said the magic words. Dad has seen me suffer the separation from Jean firsthand. I know he’d be glad to see me socialize again, and not just whenever it’s required for my Elmwick Academy activities.
DUFFEL BAG OVER MY shoulder and hoodie zipped up to my chin, I meet Vanessa in front of Seff and Fillan’s house. The gray SUV is gone from its usual parking spot.
“I think their parents are away,” I say. “Come on.”
Vanessa sulks at me, her eyes still puffy from sleep. “If you’ve got ssome weird double-date planned—”
But the front door swings open, drawing our eyes to Seff, who’s casually leaning against the frame. “Funny your mind should go there, V.”
“Don’t patronize me.” Vanessa does not seem to be a morning person. “What’s all the secrecy about?”
“Don’t look at me,” Seff says. “The banshee hasn’t deigned to inform us, either.”
I tense, casting looks left and right to check if any curious neighbors are spying on us. “Let’s not do this out in the open.”
“By all means, come in.” Seff makes an exaggerated gesture to invite us in.
When we enter their light and cozy hallway, I kick off my sneakers. My dusty shoes might well be the only thing in there out of its proper place.
In the months we’ve become friendly, I’ve never once been to Seff’s house. It’s more modern than Mason’s, but the style is similar—aristocratic and impeccable.
“Are your parents out?”
“They’re at the country house for the weekend,” Seff says with a meaningful look. “We were too intrigued to miss out on whatever this is to join them.”
Fillan walks off, and after Seff nods at me and Vanessa, we follow the twins into the kitchen. They’ve been making sandwiches. Mountains of sandwiches. Fillan smears cream cheese and slaps slices of ham on the bread.
Vanessa grabs one of the ready sandwiches and takes a monster bite.
“All right,” I say brightly, though a little forced. It’s unfair to take advantage of their desire to join the circle, especially when I have no intention of including them in mine, but it’s the only way I can succeed. “I need your help to get Jean back.”
Vanessa spits the piece of bread, still whole, directly into the kitchen sink. “What?”
“I’d like your help to get Jean back,” I repeat calmly.
Fillan stares at me for an everlasting moment before he resumes preparing their breakfast. Did he even hear me?
Seff takes a step closer to me, his devil-may-care attitude gone. “Why?”
“What do you mean why?” I gawk at him. “It was an accident. Like you said, it was the hunters’ own fault for having attacked us. Why should Jean keep paying the price? It’s been three months. It’s time for her to come back.” With a little wail, my voice wavers, betraying the emotion that courses through me.
“You’ve gone insane.” Vanessa rolls her eyes. “Jean’s banished. If you bring her back, it’s as good as a declaration of war.”
“Why?” Seff asks again, ignoring Vanessa.
I stare at him with searing frustration. “I just told you why.”
Desperation and panic simmer inside me. I always assumed they’d do as I ask. The realization of just how haughty that belief has been crashes into me, slicing deep.
Fillan drops the knife and licks the smeared cream cheese from his thumb in one painfully slow motion. “I get it.”
The twins lock eyes on each other and smirk—a mirror movement that unnerves me. I’m used to seeing Seff as an ally, but he and Fillan will always have a special bond that naturally trumps our friendship.
“All the better, right?” Seff says.
Vanessa steps between them. “If you two sstood a little closer, I’d bang your heads together. What are you going on about?”
“The banshee’s circle,” Seff draws out, his gaze burning me to a crisp. “It’s already started—between Cami and Jean.”
Heat bursts through my body, making the surrounding air feel cooler. Or is
it fear that causes the fine hairs on my forearms to stand?
“I...” My stutter and shock are enough of an admission. “I never meant to bind us together. It was an accident.”
“Yet now that you see a simple way to kill the connection, you want to save it?” Fillan pops a slice of ham into his mouth and chews it with a maniac grin.
“Er, yes. By bringing Jean back,” I admit. “Will you help me?”
Fillan crosses his arms and lets out a long, deliberate hmm, making me want to follow Vanessa’s instinct and bang his head against something.
I can’t take it anymore. “I know what you’re thinking. That Mrs. Gianni will send Jean back rather than risk the hunters attacking again. That Jean leaving is the only reason the hunters have stayed quiet. But you know as well as I do that they’re waiting.” I’m not trying to play with Seff, using his very argument, but the sense of a premonition is overpowering. He was right when he said this. “You know this won’t last, and I refuse to let Jean keep suffering for the mere possibility that the hunters might respect the peace a bit longer. They didn’t respect it when they hunted my mother, and they didn’t respect it at my Claiming.”
The mention of my Mom turns all their expressions grave.
“I do not intend to continue binding the circle.” I instill as much confidence as I can muster into the words. “But I need to protect the link that exists now. Who knows? Maybe when it’s just Jean and I, the circle might not grow violent.”
Seff taps his chin with a thoughtful, almost scientific expression. “And the link brings another gift—a way to convince Mrs. Gianni to accept Jean back.”
“Oh, I don’t think Mrs. Gianni will be glad to know her daughter had a hand in starting a new banshee’s circle,” I remark.
“No.” Seff lets his smile stretch slowly. “But she needn’t find out about it at all.” Despite our confused looks, he goes on. “Dutiful student that I am, I’ve gotten a little head start on our reading assignment.”
“Nerd,” Vanessa interjects, receiving a smirk from Fillan.
“And what weapon is deadlier than knowledge?” Seff puffs out his chest.
“An iron arrow to the heart for me; a ssilver bullet through the forehead for the likes of you.”
Seff’s eyes are still alight with the brewing brilliance of his idea as he calmly stares down Vanessa. “Must you always be so literal?”
“Yess. Esspecially when you’re being so abstract.”
“You mean scholarly?”
My head is about to split from their snappy retorts. “Stop it. Are you going to help me go get Jean or should I do it myself?”
Those are empty threats, and judging by the way the wolves’ noses wrinkle a little, they can smell it on me. The truth is, I need them with me if I’m going to face Jester’s army of cold ones. Without the threat of a viper’s curse or a wolf’s bite, Jester’s vampires would have little to fear from me.
But I stand my ground.
The twins have one of their silent conversations under the disguise of intense stares, then Seff regards me with a polite smile. “You didn’t let me elaborate on my findings. Thanks to your link with Jean, both of your abilities have to be growing, especially hers. Yours will expand with each person admitted to the circle.”
Vanessa’s face is alight with delight, like a kid getting an unexpected present. “What can Jean do?”
“She can compel her way right out of this mess,” Seff announces triumphantly. “She can compel her own mother to let her back in. That’s right—she can compel other vampires.”
Mildly put, it’s a risky game, but I nod. This is our way out. “Jean could compel the Jesters to let her go and her mother to let her return. If only she knows she can do it. So are you going to help me?”
A wide, toothy grin spreads on Seff’s lips. “I’ll do this one favor for you, for the banshee who’s going to bind us into her circle. Absolutely.”
“I won’t...” I say, but he cuts me off.
“Perhaps one day?”
“If that’s good enough of a promise for you.” He won’t get a better one out of me.
“It is a promise you’ll make good on, but let’s not quibble over word choices.” The wolfish grin I know so well from our training sessions appears instantly to mock me.
It’s work, trying to hide the irritation in my voice. “Whatever gets you out the door, Seff.”
Vanessa raises a hand as if she’s being evaluated on how graceful the movement is. “And I assume you want me there to scare the big, bad vampires with a curse for you?”
“That would be appreciated.” I decide against the word ‘necessary’, although the imaginary bell of a premonition rings clear inside my head.
“Fine,” Vanessa says. She grabs one of the tinfoil-wrapped sandwiches from the counter and stuffs it into her bag. “But if you end up binding another viper into your circle instead of me, the curse I’ll hit you with is going to be a doozy.”
Fillan snickers as he grabs the rest of the sandwiches.
My temper roars inside me, fueling a wicked scream, but I don’t have time for this. They’re free to disregard my warning as much as they want, especially if it helps me get Jean back. But whatever their delusions, I won’t bind them into the circle or apologize for it.
So I only take a deep breath and return to my cheery tone from before. “Let’s go.”
Chapter 8. Mason
I WAKE UP AFTER DOZING on and off but catching no sound sleep. Dawn breaks when I sit up on my corner of the yoga mat. Awan pulled the blanket out of my reach long ago. Now I see it may not have been entirely his fault.
Charity is snuggled up in the Thermo blanket, leaving only a small corner for Awan. He has nuzzled up to her, as close to spooning as decency would permit. Mouth open, he snores softly.
Charity elbows him in her sleep. “You’re snoring.”
Awan says ‘ouch’ and stirs awake, which seems to snap her into consciousness as well.
“Oh,” Charity says, momentarily confused, like she didn’t expect to find him next to her.
Awan pushes away while she pulls herself up to sit. The air is ripe with awkwardness, so I don’t feel bad jumping in. “Since you’re both awake, shall we go?”
We waste no time packing our meager camp. Charity moves her hands in the shape of those invisible triangles over and over again until the charm goes down, its faint purple glow dissolving into the red dawn.
Awan pauses, his eyes closed, then leads us toward his protector.
“He found Bryar but kept his distance,” he explains. “You know, not to reveal to her more about the supernatural things happening in here than she already might have gathered.”
I nod. “Good. How far away is she?”
“Not far. She’s by the caves and the waterfall.”
Father avoids the caves when we go hunting. There isn’t enough cover on the barren rocks. Also, it’s a bit of a drop to the shallow excuse of a river below if you slip. But we have gone there in hot summer days, cooling off under the sprinkling waterfall and dipping our feet in the river.
No wonder Bryar went that way, to at least start her search from some place familiar.
Our pace quickens the more we near my sister’s location, before Awan swears out of the blue and breaks off into a run.
“What’s wrong?” I pant, following as close on his heels as I can manage. He’s always been quicker.
“She’s in trouble,” Awan says. “They’ve found her.”
We sprint out of cover. Awan drops on his knees behind a bushy shrub to spy, but I’m busy taking the supplies out of my backpack. Charity catches up, winded.
“Wow, what are those?” Her voice is frosty, her eyes tense.
I take a vial of vervain and, holding a dozen darts in my other hand, pour the liquid over their tips. “I’ve come prepared.”
When I look up from the darts, Charity is horror-stricken, but a shout coming from the rocks by the cave makes me poke my h
ead up from behind the bush. Bryar, to her credit with a silver knife in hand, stands with her back against a rock, eyes scanning the vampires circling her and picking their moment to attack.
Behind that line of immediate threat, Awan’s protector rages against the rest of the cold ones. They swish around, turning into blurred silhouettes, but the mountain lion scratches and bites any vampire in sight, drawing blood.
Without thinking, I aim the crossbow and shoot. The first dart lands true, right in a vampire’s throat. He falls to the ground, flailing, but I doubt this amount of vervain would kill him. The rest of the cold ones approaching my sister stare at him and trace the origin of the attack to us.
“Great job, Mace,” Awan says sullenly, his eyes still glowing ominously.
I don’t listen. All my body knows is rage. I tried my best to keep Bryar out of this, to shrug off the unease that she’ll soon be in my murky position, not knowing who to trust. I load the next darts and shoot at the vampires nearing my sister. When they fall to the ground one by one, Bryar’s eyes follow the direction of the shots and find me.
The protector still rages against the cold ones, but only those it attacks pay it any attention, enough to fight back. The rest zip through the bushes toward us.
“Awan, what do we do?” Panic floods my voice. I hope he can read the true meaning underneath my words. How much can you do against them with your protector way out there?
But it’s Charity who replies, “Follow me.” She runs ahead, circling in a wider radius around the place the last two cold ones have pushed my sister against the rock.
The vampires on our trail change direction, following us in our sprint. I look back long enough to shoot, then speed up after Charity until we reach the entrance to the cave. It isn’t deep—only the length of a large living room, but that’s enough to provide us with some cover. Or to corner us.
But there’s no time to voice my concern to Charity. I shoot all but one last dart at the cold ones after us. They’re a horde, as if more have joined their numbers out of nowhere. Or perhaps some have already recovered from the protector’s attack and the earlier vervain darts.
Suspension (Elmwick Academy Book 2) Page 5
