Marco took my hand in his. “I am privileged to have never lost a teammate in battle,” he said, still gentle. “But four years ago the Westerners murdered someone who was like a brother to me.”
Gregory’s fury twisted into derision. “I’m alive, moron. Antonio is actually dead.”
Marco gave Gregory a pitying smile. “I’m truly sorry for your loss, Sentinel.”
Marco planted a soft kiss on my hand and helped me to my feet. We left Gregory to his grief and joined Ember and Benjamin by a small campfire near the wall, in the sparse shade of a tall tree.
Above us, the silly little oriole twittered pleasantly. The sun had risen completely, but snow had started to fall from the overcast sky. Now that the adrenaline of the raid had died down, I was freezing. I shivered violently until Marco threw his arm around my shoulders.
“Where’s Reid?” he asked, scanning all around us. “Is he okay?”
“He’s fine,” Ember said. “He’s still guarding Will and Beau.” She closed her eyes for a minute. “Your brother is such a creep, Benjamin.”
Benjamin wrinkled his nose. “Lady, you are preaching to the choir. What is it this time?”
Ember massaged her temples. “Beau’s been telling Reid what he’ll do to me when he eventually captures me. He wants a reaction out of Reid.” Her eyes went unfocused, then she laughed. “Oh please, Beau. Patrick was more creative than that.”
Her laughter suddenly stopped.
She leaned toward all of us, and we copied her. When she spoke, her voice was low and tense. “Everyone, laugh like I just said something funny.”
We instantly cracked up. She caught my eye. Get Dean. Now. Act casual. Tell him to act casual.
I yawned and stretched. “Guys, I’m going to go check on the schedule. I’ll be right back.” I walked over toward Dean, who was kneeling with John Carl next to a slave’s mangled corpse. They were trying to identify the unfortunate man.
I kneeled next to Dean and whispered in his ear, “Ember needs you immediately. Act like nothing’s wrong.”
My tone must have carried the urgency, because he stood up and checked his watch, his usual smirk on his face. “No problem, Jill.” Behind the humor was a hint of concern. “Any updates on that?”
I shrugged. “That’s all I heard, but feel free to ask her yourself.”
He laughed and punched my shoulder. “I’ll be right back,” he told John Carl, who was watching us with a confused expression.
We walked back to the campfire, where they were talking about a movie we’d all seen a few months before—an unusually light topic for post-battle. Ember watched us approach and became the essence of bashfulness, ducking her head and peeking coyly through her eyelashes at Dean. She locked eyes with him.
Dean blinked in surprise, then relaxed. “I wish you’d told me earlier,” he said tenderly, holding out his arms to her. “There was no reason to hide it. I feel the same way.”
Ember threw herself in his arms and kissed him with shocking passion.
What…?
Without warning, Dean shoved her aside, drew his handgun, and fired at the songbird in the tree above us.
There was a high scream as a middle-aged woman fell out of the tree and landed on the hard ground with a tremendous thud. Her arm was bleeding, but she was able to grab something out of her pocket and shove it in her mouth.
Ember dashed up to the woman. “Think about your secrets,” she hissed. Ember grabbed the woman’s face and scowled at her. “When’s the attack?” She shook the woman roughly. “Answer me, damn it!” Ember gasped and dropped the woman, who had begun to twitch. “No,” she breathed. “Oh God, no.”
The woman’s eyes rolled back, and foam bubbled out of her mouth. Within seconds she fell backwards, as dead as Antonio.
Ember kicked the woman’s body repeatedly. “Damn it! Damn it!”
I pulled Ember away from her desecration. “What? Ember, what is it?!”
Ember’s fury turned to naked fear. “She’s been spying on us since we were in the sorting station. I don’t know what she told the forbidden families about us, but I heard one thing. They planned an attack on Chattahoochee.”
Marco and Benjamin were at our sides in moments. “When?” I demanded. “We have to warn them!”
Ember shook her head, tears spilling over. “It was last night.”
42
The ancient truck, taken from the compound, screeched to a halt at the NO TRESPASSING sign. The gate was open.
Benjamin shoved the gear stick into park and we hopped out of the truck. Without a word, we grabbed onto Reid and clung to him like a life preserver. There was a small rumble, and then we flew up into the deep blue mid-afternoon sky and began to soar north over the woods.
Far in the distance, the steel wall of Chattahoochee stuck out of the canopy like a razor. Beyond it, Fort Mountain stood, eternally watching over the camp.
The freezing wind made my eyes water, but it also woke me up. We hadn’t eaten since before the raid, which had ended nearly eighteen hours before. Upon hearing that there’d been a supervillain attack on my childhood home, I’d ordered my team to drop everything and find a vehicle. Reid had been called away from Will and Beau, leaving them buried up to their necks in the woods. Dean promised to watch over Isabel, who’d flat-out refused to return to Chattahoochee.
Benjamin had driven the entire way from southern Montana to Georgia, only stopping for gas. The shadows under his eyes were darker than the rest of ours, but as we neared the steel wall, I saw the anger on his face. His old family had just attacked his new family.
Ember also displayed signs of deep exhaustion, as she’d stayed awake the whole time in the front seat, acting as a police scanner while Benjamin raced down the interstate highways at speeds well above one hundred miles per hour.
We landed in the main meadow with a dusty thud. I took a moment to get my bearings, then slowly looked around.
No hut or shelter had survived the attack. Shredded clothes and items were everywhere, most of them unrecognizable. Trees were broken, tossed all over the field. At a moment’s glance I could not guess what powers had been used, but clearly there had been a show of great force.
“Marco?” my Aunt Grace called from the edge of the trees. I squinted and thought I saw many people in the shadows of the forest. Aunt Grace sprinted toward us. “Marco! Sweetheart!”
Marco rushed to greet his mother. “Mom, what happened? We heard there’d been an attack.”
Aunt Grace fell to her knees and began to sob, hugging Marco all the while. The rest of us watched from a respectful distance.
“They came in the night,” she moaned. “They came in the night and started killing people. The trainees fought them off, but they killed so many people.”
Marco removed his mother’s arms from his neck. “Where’s Dad? Where are the girls? Are they okay?”
Aunt Grace tried to compose herself, but a moment later she hid her face in her hands and began to sob anew.
Ember covered her mouth, tears sparkling in the corner of her eyes. “Oh no. How horrible.”
“What is it?” I said, spinning around to find my family. Where were my little cousins? My uncle? My own parents and siblings?
Instead of answering, Ember ran up to Marco and pulled him away from his mother. “Come with me, Marco. Come now.”
Marco’s eyes darted back and forth between Ember and his wailing mother. “Why? What happened? Mom, where is everyone?”
“All the survivors are in the woods,” Ember said. “Ma’am, I’ll tell him. Benjamin, a lot of people need healing.”
Benjamin blurred away to the edge of the forest. Reid helped my aunt to her feet and offered his arm as he walked her toward the forest.
Marco’s breathing had become ragged. “Ember, tell me what is going on right now. Where’s my family?” His voice was shaking.
Ember took his hands in her own, his lip quivering. “Melissa, Caroline, and Adora were killed in the a
ttack. Mrs. Trent killed them. It was very quick. They probably didn’t feel anything.”
Marco collapsed into Ember’s arms.
I surveyed the bloody, oddly shaped corpses that had yet to be buried.
I could see that my mother-in-law was responsible for at least half of the deaths. I remembered the last time I’d seen her, in August of the previous year. After she’d accused me of somehow forcing Benjamin to join my team, Marco had killed her husband right in front of her before threatening to do the same to Beau.
As I peeled back the cloth that covered the partial corpses of seven-year-old Melissa, nine-year-old Adora, and thirteen-year-old Caroline, all of which lacked heads and shoulders, I couldn’t help but feel that these particular murders had been personal.
After delivering the terrible news, Ember had guided Marco to a shady tree nearby. She sat with him for more than an hour, telling him stories of where civilians believed good people went when they died. I still didn’t know what I believed about such things, but if such places existed, surely my littlest cousins were there. My chest throbbed to think of them eternally young and carefree, safe from the heinous designs of evil people.
Allison had been shot in the head. She’d been holding my infant niece, whose name I’d had to ask for: Meredith. Allison had been fleeing across the creek when she’d been shot, so Meredith fell from her arms into the water and drowned.
Next to their corpses, Samuel Dumont’s lifeless body bore the unmistakable signs of a fatal beating. Sarah Spivak, Lark’s sister, had told me that Samuel had died defending his wife and child.
Beyond their bodies lay the remains of Stephen Monroe, whom I now knew had been Dean’s cousin.
At the end of the tragic line lay the corpses of Sidney Dufresne, Ella St. James, the entire Saur family, and my father.
I stood over my father’s body for a long moment, feeling nothing but the vague guilt over feeling nothing.
Set apart from the main line of bodies lay the small bodies of the eight trainees who’d died in combat. Noah St. James’s corpse headed the line, which ended with Heather, the tiny girl with whom I’d spoken before demonstrating a kick attack. Her hair was still in pigtails. All of them would be burned on a pyre, the traditional funeral rite of superheroes. Their pyres stood half-constructed at the far end of the field.
As I sat on my knees next to the grim row, Marco’s father came up to me. Tracks from earlier tears were still on his cheeks, visible in the low light from the campfire. He offered me a hand and I took it, standing up and facing him.
“Could you describe the people who attacked the camp?” I asked. “My team is going after them.”
“Maybe. The woman who killed my daughters disintegrated them.”
“I already know who that is,” I said quietly. “Anybody else?”
“You’ll have to ask the others. There was so much confusion. It was in the middle of the night, people were running everywhere and screaming. I didn’t realize the children were gone until I saw that witch reach for their faces.” He turned away from me, his shoulders shaking.
I put a hand on his back. “Uncle, I can’t bring them back, but I can tell you that Isabel is alive and safe. We found her, and Benjamin, too. She’s in Wyoming right now with people who’ve promised to look after her.”
Uncle Howard spun around. “Why is she in Wyoming? What happened that night? You never told us, you just ran off.”
“Before I answer that, tell me one thing: where’s your brother?” I meant Elder St. James, but I could not make myself use the honorific.
“Thomas died,” Howard said without emotion. “So did his wife, Theresa. The woman who killed my daughters completely destroyed their bodies. I saw it happen. There’s nothing left to bury. My nephew Eli came from Oconee a few hours before you arrived. He’s the new Elder St. James. His new homestead is about a quarter mile into the woods.” He pointed to the area of woods in question.
“I need to speak with him about Isabel. I want you to be there. In fact, I want anyone who’s ever lost a family member to the Westerners to be there. Can you round them up?”
“Yes,” he said, confused. “Give me ten minutes and I’ll have the word out.”
I turned and walked into the dark forest.
At first, there was no indication that people lived in the trees, but soon enough I began to see pin pricks of fires in the distance. I wanted to hurry but could not see my way in the dark. Twice I tripped over logs.
When I finally reached the huddles of people, I saw that Benjamin was busy healing injuries. The line of the injured was far greater than last time.
I leaned against a tree and watched as my husband patiently placed his hands on men, women, and children. Though he was exhausted, he never betrayed any negative emotion or desire to take a break. Person after person came forward to receive healing, and he just smiled and spoke a few words with each of them.
Matthew reached the front of the line. His hand and leg were heavily bandaged, and he leaned on a crude wooden crutch. I drew back into the shadows, suddenly hyperaware of my lack of powers.
I could not hear them, but I could see them well in the firelight.
Benjamin’s face showed no emotion as he said something to Matthew. The way his mouth moved made me think it was a question.
Matthew seemed surprised at what Benjamin had asked. He inclined his head forward, confusion playing across his face.
Benjamin whispered something into Matthew’s ear.
Matthew gasped and staggered backwards. His leg gave way, and he fell with a yell.
Benjamin’s only response was a small smile and a dark gleam in his eyes that I’d never seen before.
Matthew limped away, throwing one terrified glance behind him before disappearing into the trees. I was tempted to ask Benjamin what he’d said to Matthew but decided that I’d let him have that secret.
A little girl stepped forward and held out her arm, which was wrapped in a bloody bandage. Benjamin’s face smoothed over, and he lifted her hand and pecked it as a gentleman would a grand lady’s. She threw her arms around his neck and covered him in sloppy kisses.
I turned away from the scene and continued to look for Eli St. James.
Before I could go ten feet, Uncle Howard rushed up to me. “Jillian, the people you wanted are meeting next to Eli’s shelter. Whatever you have to say, you should say it now.” His voice was tight.
I followed him through the trees to a crude hut. A man in his early thirties stood in the middle of a small crowd of onlookers, my mother among them. I did not greet her. I wasn’t here for pleasantries.
“Eli,” I said as I approached him.
Eli let out a long-suffering sigh. “It’s Elder St. James, now.”
“No, you’re Eli to me.”
The crowd went quiet.
“What is this about, Jillian?” He didn’t show any anger, but I detected a note of impatience. He’d heard about me, no doubt.
“This is about your father, and the rest of the elders, selling people to the Westerners. Or did you not notice Benjamin back there? I’m sure you heard about the healer who died in the attack. That’s him.”
Eli didn’t speak for several seconds. “Do you have proof? That is a very serious accusation.”
I kept my voice even. “My team not only tracked down Benjamin and Isabel, we found several former inhabitants of this camp who’d been sold by your father, and more who’d been sold by other elders. One of them was my brother Gregory.”
My mother screamed. “Gregory’s alive?”
I didn’t look at her. Instead, I took a step toward Eli, who didn’t move. “I’m not going to ask you whether you knew about the slave trade, because you’ll deny it, and I won’t believe you. Instead, I’ll ask you this: what are you going to do when I call the FBI and start the investigation?”
Even my team didn’t know that I wasn’t showing my full hand. I’d spent much of the drive back to Georgia planning my next move. Aler
ting the FBI was just the beginning.
I had to hand it to Eli—he was able to maintain composure in a way his father never had. He appeared to think about my question for a moment, his lips pursing. “I’ll work with them. I’ll tell them everything my father ever told me.”
“And my team? Technically, we’re rogues. What are you going to do about that?”
Eli gestured toward the gathered people. “Let these people be witnesses. You have my word that your team can return to Saint Catherine and serve in peace. We have no quarrel with you. As the elder of this camp, I hereby declare my father’s judgment at the tribunal null and void.”
“Good move.”
Eli didn’t say anything, but some ugly emotion shimmered in his eye for the briefest second.
I turned on my heel and walked into the trees. Marco and Ember met me there, joining me as I strode toward Benjamin’s line.
“He’s lying,” Ember said quietly.
“I know. What’s he planning?”
“Nothing yet. He just knows that we’re too troublesome to have around.”
“Then we’ll be ready,” Marco said.
I stopped walking and put a hand on Marco’s shoulder. “Yes, we’ll be ready. But the Trents won’t, nor will the people who helped them. We’ve been on the defensive with these people for too long. As soon as we go back to Saint Catherine and get settled again, we’re going after them. And then we’re going after the JM-104. It’s over. It’s all over. We’re getting justice.”
Marco’s eyes filled with tears again. “But why did they kill my sisters? What did they want?”
I’d asked myself the same question when I’d uncovered Melissa’s tiny body. “I don’t know. I think it was revenge for killing Mr. Trent.”
Marco let out a long breath. “I’m not angry at Benjamin. I don’t know if you were worried about that, but I’m not.”
“I know. Have you talked to him since finding out about your sisters?”
“No. I didn’t really know what to say.”
“How about, ‘Help me find the bastards who did this?’”
Sentinel Page 36
