JAMB
MISTY PROVENCHER
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2013 by Misty Provencher
Cover & Interior Design by Misty Provencher
Publication Date: February, 2013
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Connect with the author online at: http://mistypro.blogspot.com/
or on Facebook and Twitter: @mistyprovencher
DEDICATION
For my daughter, Sydney
Who teaches me.
~Semper ad meliora~
CHAPTER ONE
MUTED SHOUTING RISES UP FROM THE STREET, far below the Hotel Celare’s roof. I know I have to stay on mega-alert to keep my field up, but in Garrett’s arms, no matter how much I struggle against it, I cannot feel anything but safe. My invisible, protective field shatters.
“It’s alright,” Garrett whispers against my lips. His black hair smoothes over my cheek. “Sleep.”
When he lifts his head from mine, my consciousness drains away with him.
I expected to be totaled, I know it happens when you get a new Connection, but it’s still beyond lousy to be in crash mode right now. Especially because my new Connection—this spirit who’s supposed to guide me and keep me safe in a fight—is the man that killed my mother: my father. But he also just saved me from getting killed too.
And as if all the events leading up to this unexpected family reunion aren’t enough, The Fury’s whipped up a full-blown riot that is still slamming against the barricaded, hotel entrance down below. If they get in, they’ll kill us all, if they can.
I know our own Cura is racing back from the meeting with the other twelve Curas, to try to break up the chaos, but even if they were able to figure out who the traitors are, versus who is still loyal to our Ianua community, there’s still no way of knowing how many other Contego warriors are returning with them. And here I am, zoning out, even though our Cura could really use Garrett and I down there right now.
“Shhh,” Garrett exhales, and his reassurance is all it takes for my eyes to finally sink shut. Every muscle in me has gone the way of gravity, and whether or not I could make a difference in the fight going on down at ground level, I can’t shake the overwhelming need to sleep. Leaning against the solid wall of Garrett’s chest, the clean citrus smell of him is the last thing I think of, before I pass out cold.
***
“Awesome. Everything is awesome. I can’t stand how everyone keeps trying to say that being cramped up together in this hotel is awesome,” Zaneen complains. My eyes are still shut and I don’t feel like opening them, but Zaneen is ranting close by and, unfortunately, my ears are working just fine. She groans. “They’re all strangers and some of them are totally creepy. I ran into one, and all he did was stare at me and scratch. None of this is awesome.”
“At least we’re safe,” Deeta chirps. “That’s awesome.”
“No, no,” Robin says. The leather couch across from me sqwerks as she shifts on it. Robin’s here. She was with our Cura, fighting, and now she’s here. And Deeta’s here. A huge weight falls off me. If everyone is here, things must be okay. But Robin sighs as she says, “Okay, it’s not awesome, Neeny, it’s baligula.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Zaneen asks.
“I’m saying that you’re totally right. Absolutely none of this is awesome. It’s awstranomic. It’s meg-gaze-ming.”
Zaneen tells her to shut up, but she laughs as she says it.
Everything comes racing back—the riot outside the hotel, Mark and Brandon in the Veritas tunnels beneath the hotel, Nok’s escape. I don’t know the outcome of any of it, except that Robin is here, so I push myself to open my eyes. It’s about as easy as lifting elephants, but I manage to get them open a crack.
Through the slits, I look up to see the bottom of Garrett’s jaw. Strong and set, he is listening as his hand strokes through my hair. I can feel the beautiful indigo of his healing touch spreading through me, and although it feels warm and safe in my veins, it’s unnecessary. Accepting my father as my Connection, my guide, isn’t a wound that needs to be healed. A new Connection is just totally exhausting; our fields had to reform, melding together once we made the agreement that I could use some extra guidance as a Contego warrior and he could provide it as a spirit who has passed.
Garrett’s fingers drift through my hair again. The only thing that could really use some healing is my and Roger’s relationship, but that’s not something Garrett can help with. It is something my father and I have to do on our own. At least the worst part is over now that my father’s field is joined with mine.
Still, Garrett’s touch is warm and wonderful and I don’t want it to stop. My eyes are so heavy, I drop them and lie still another moment, enjoying the reassuring weight of Garrett’s hand as it weaves through my hair.
“It’s only been two days and I’m already feeling the walls,” Zane says. If Zane’s here too, our Cura must’ve taken care of The Fury, but why is he stir crazy? And wait. He’s been here two days? That means I’ve been out for two days. And they’ve probably been dragging me around, unconscious.
Sounds right.
“We could always go out and meet some of the other Cura members.” But the hopefulness in Deeta’s voice trails off.
So more Curas did come back. That’s a good sign. But I’m totally confused as to why everyone’s here—seemingly safe—but they’re still talking like things aren’t okay.
“You can be the welcome wagon if you want,” Robin says. “Just don’t go telling anybody anything. We still have to be careful who we trust.”
“I don’t know why you want to meet everybody so bad anyway,” Zaneen says. “I can intro you to the habitual itcher, if you want. He was great. I swear he itched every inch of himself twice within a five minute conversation.”
“That really got to you, didn’t it?” Garrett laughs. I feel the happy sound of it, even in his legs.
“We all have to get along if we’re going to live together,” Deeta grumbles, but Robin groans.
“It doesn’t mean you can trust them just because they’re here! Just look at Milo’s Cura. They all went to The Fury. All of them! How do we know another Cura isn’t about to do the same thing?”
“Hold up, Robs,” Zane says. “The other outer Curas did help us fight against the first Cura. We should be careful, but I don’t think we need to stay on high alert. We already got the traitors.”
Deeta chimes in, “And you can’t go around never trusting anybody.”
“Yes, I can,” Robin snaps. “Somebody tipped off The Fury. Maybe it was only the first Cura, but what if it wasn’t? What if another Cura decides to flip? We need to keep our business to ourselves. Anytime you feel like opening your trap, you should just think of what happened to Mark and Brandon.”
Sean responds with a voice weaker than I’ve ever heard, from somewhere in the room, “I have to side with Deeta on this. We don’t know what’s happened to the boys yet. They could still come back safe and sound—they could just be stuck in a pocket in the tunnels under the hotel. I’m going to have faith that they’re safe, unless I know otherwise. But, in the meantime, paranoia will divide the Curas and that is just what The Fury wants. We can’t become so paranoid that we shut everyone out.”
“Become paranoid?” Zane laughs. Robin does a little grunt of disapproval. “You’re talking about my wife here! She’s always been paranoid.”
“Brandon and Mark are the masters of hide and seek,” Garrett adds. The rumble of his voice vibrates i
nside me so much, it’d be easy to mistake it as my own. “They know all the ins and outs of everywhere they’ve ever been. I doubt the Veritas tunnels are any different. They’re probably just lying low, until the smoke clears.”
“Probably,” Robin mumbles, but I hear the couch sqwerk again, as she rises off it. Her feet move away. “You can all do what you want, but I think it’s stupid to go spilling secrets just so we can all be friends.”
The slider opens and Robin’s footsteps disappear completely when it closes. Zane sighs once she’s gone.
“You know Robs has a good point,” he says.
“I’m not saying we shouldn’t be careful,” Sean agrees. His voice turns, probably to look at Deeta, as he continues, “But we need to be just as careful with how much we let our suspicions control us right now. The outer Curas are part of our community and they fought right along side us. If any of them are from The Fury, their selfishness should be obvious pretty soon. It’ll be hard to hide, living so close to one another.”
“I agree,” Garrett says and I force my eyes open again, to stare at his lovely jaw. Except that he’s looking down at me now. He smiles at my fluttering eyelids. “Hey, you’re awake.”
Zane’s face suddenly bobs over Garrett’s shoulder for a second. “So you’re tangled up with your old man for a Connection now, huh, Nali Girl?”
“Ugh! Leave her alone, Zit,” Zaneen tells him. “Her dad kept us from getting killed.”
Garrett smiles down at me, erasing everything else.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, running his fingertip, like a feather, along my jaw.
It’s monumental to move my lips, but I do. His focused touch jump-starts my energy and my nerves stretch up to feel as much of him as they can, the same way flower stems reach for the sun.
“Okay.” I grin. I wonder what it looks like, because it feels funny.
“Are you hungry?”
“Of course she’s hungry,” Deeta says as her feet shuffle away. Cupboard doors start banging in the kitchen. “What does she want, Garrett? Soup? Fruit? Salad?”
“She’d probably like a big fat pizza,” Zane says, his face reappearing, just beyond Garrett’s. “You want pizza, don’t ya, Nals? I know I would.”
“I can make pizza.” Deeta hesitates. “Kind of.”
Zane just laughs. “No you can’t. I love ya, Deets, so don’t take this wrong, but your cooking always ends up tasting like socks.”
Sean laughs too. “Yeah Deeta, don’t take that wrong.”
“I won’t, because it doesn’t!” she says.
I try to scoot into a sitting position. It doesn’t work. My body is acting like it’s made of melting Jell-O.
“I really want a shower,” I say.
“I’ll help,” Garrett weaves an arm under me, but I shake my head.
“I can get there by myself.”
Garrett pulls his arm out and sits back with a smirk. “I guess you don’t remember last time, do you, Rebel? After re-Impressioning?”
Oh, I remember. It didn’t end well. I tried to stand up too fast and ended up doing a face-plant right on the floor in front of him. It still makes me blush. Garrett runs a fingertip over my cheek with a grin.
“How about we just sit here and wait for you to get your strength back. Then you can take it from there. Sound good?”
“That’ll work.” I don’t bother to tell him that it’s a total relief to relax back against his legs again. His hand returns to pulling gently through my hair and it’s like I’m lying around in Heaven.
At least, until Sean speaks up.
“Since you’re not running off anytime soon, we can catch you up on what’s going on.” Garrett’s carbon-copy of a brother lifts my feet and drops onto the end cushion beneath them. He's looking even more like Garrett than ever with his hair growing out.
“Tell her how all the Curas are back,” Deeta says from the kitchen.
“Well, not all of them,” Zane adds. “Just their Procella, and each Procella’s inner circles, and their families. It’s wall-to-wall head honchos out there. Each Cura has their own floor, but the Courtyard is ours and it’s just like the Addo’s kitchen out there. Everybody’s all jammed up in it.”
“Seriously?” I say. The scary thing about everyone being here is that the inner core of the Hotel Celare was engineered just for this—to protect the key members of each Cura, during a full-blown emergency. It is self-sufficient, with a spring-fed waterfall and hydroponic fruit trees and vegetable gardens growing on each of the ascending floors. All the Curas have their own pantries of non-perishable foods and stocks of toiletries and clothing and necessities, suitable to their regional tastes, and there is one large pantry on the top floor for everyone to share.
Each floor is a neighborhood, with individual apartments to accommodate the upper ranks and their families, because the Celare was engineered for survival. So, if the whole community is here, it can only mean that whatever is going on outside is a deadly threat to the Ianua.
“We’re stuffed in here like lemmings,” Zane grumbles.
“Does that mean everything went good with the other Curas?” The last time I saw Zane, almost all of our Cura’s top Contego were leaving to meet up with the other 12 Curas, in order to stop them from attacking us. We were the only Cura whose leader hadn’t been slaughtered in what seemed like an inside job, so it was a no-brainer that we had to keep the Addo under tight wraps until we knew who we could trust. But the other 12 Curas accused us of isolating and manipulating the Addo, in order to take control of the entire community.
“Turns out, the Curas weren’t banding together after all,” Zane says. “The first Cura sent a few decoys out to stir things up. When we got there, the other Curas had already figured out what was what and were trying to beat the tar out of the traitors that went AWOL to The Fury.”
“But the joke was on us,” Garrett says. “Most of the first Cura was back here, recruiting the Simple and kicking up the riot. That’s who was trying to beat in the hotel doors. Addo Chad was supposed to get them in here, so they could get at the Addo.”
“But they didn’t get in,” I say. I close my eyes for a second, remembering Addo Chad and how he came at Iris, at Zaneen, at me. My fingertips tingle with the memory of how I sank them into the weak spot in Chad’s field, his weakest, and therefore, his most lethal Cavis. The Cavis was mucky and soft, caving in like rotted drywall beneath the force of my fingers, as I ended his life. I shiver and Garrett rubs his palm along my arm. I open my eyes again and Garrett’s smile is waiting.
“It’s over,” he whispers.
“Yeah,” Zane adds, although I know he’s not answering to the same conversation Garrett and I just shared. “It takes way more than that to get into the Celare. Once The Fury got a load of all the Procella we brought back with us, the riot cleared out pretty quick. More of them ran than tried to fight. Typical.”
“This was all because of the first Cura? Is all of Milo’s Cura gone?” I ask.
“Yep, yep,” Zane nods. “That little weasel’s the only representative of his gang left in the entire hotel, and he’s only here because he unloaded all his insider info to the Addo.”
“He’s not a weasel,” Deeta says. She’s mixing something. “He left his Cura because he knew things were getting bad. He gave away all of his Cura’s plans just to help us.”
“So what?” Zane shoots back.
“So we can trust him,” Deeta says, but her tone is light and less confident.
Garrett shakes his head.
“You’re going to trust him just because his goose was about to be cooked? He’s still from the Cura that jumped ship like a boatload of rats,” Zane says. “Totally not trust material. And I’m gonna stop trusting you too Deets, if you keep goobing all over that guy.”
“I’m not goobing!”
Zaneen laughs. “Oh yeah you are.”
“So is Milo on lock down now?” I ask.
“No, because the Addo trusts him
,” Deeta chirps and even without turning my head, I can hear the rebellious smile on her lips. I can’t help but be a little proud of her, even when Zane snorts.
“Like that means anything. The Addo trusts everybody!” he says. “That’s why he never locked his doors, remember? And that’s how he got the scooze kicked out of him too!”
“The Addo didn’t lock his doors because he trusts fate,” Deeta says. Her tone, rather than my eyesight, makes me envision her in the kitchen with her chin tipped up and her eyes narrowed a little at Zane. “Besides, Milo’s done nothing to...”
“You got that right. That guy hasn’t done one dang thing but hang around. Even the Addo is at the end of his rope with him. Milo’s been on a revolving door, going to see the Addo to get chewed out again for blowing off his duties to the Alo. How many times has the Addo had to talk to him? It’s got to be at least two dozen times since we’ve been here.”
“The Addo is a little annoyed with him,” Sean chimes in from the end of the couch. “But every time Milo comes in, Addo seems to get through to him a little more. Milo will straighten out eventually.”
“Except that we don’t have eventually,” Garrett says and Zane jumps right in.
“That useless bag of skin hasn’t been recording any memories even though he knows the Alo need everybody working right now. You heard how Nali’s mom used to write? Alo Evangeline was a saint. He should be writing like that, just to prove he’s at least trying to salvage his Cura.”
Zane didn’t know my mom personally, but from what I understand, the Ianua considers what my mom did as legendary. She left the Ianua because my father had killed my grandfather and threatened my mom’s life, but she never gave up on what she’d promised to do for the community. In fact, she did the exact opposite. She recorded Memories obsessively for as long as I’ve been alive, because she was trying to make up for the shame my father had brought on her.
At Simon Valley High, my classmates had seen what my mother did—her writing produced so much paper that it filled our house—and she was pinned as a hoarder. Which meant I was too. I was the crazy hoarder’s daughter and they nicknamed me ‘The Waste’.
Jamb (The Cornerstone Series) Page 1
