The Order- Hit and Run

by Emma Cole

  Holding a finger up and possibly signing my own death warrant, I interject. "We've attempted several different manners of approach. It's early yet, and Cora has voiced her opinions on making sure she does well. In time her grief will fade, and we'll be her best option. At this point she's still insisting on wearing her wedding rings and using her married name. Constant reminders of events and the part we played in it all aren't endearing us to her."

  Silence reigns throughout the room. Feeling like a complete shit for pushing our failure off onto Cora, I ignore the almost tangible sensation of recrimination coming from the others. The dean hums speculatively in his throat, eyes focusing inward as he considers my explanation for Cora's dislike. Determined to look anywhere but at the guys, I study the room.

  Not much has changed since I was here last. The dark paneling and built-in bookcases line the walls, interspersed with framed awards, accolades, and pictures of the dean with various important figures. Running out of things to look at, my gaze drifts to the beige carpeting. It's a bland neutral color, high-end, of course, for the dean, but it doesn't have anything interesting to hold my attention either. Until it does.

  My eyes are just tracking back to the oversized black marble-topped desk when I register what I saw. Two decent-sized indentations behind the dean near the wall, well away from the door and the rest of us. Being full-up from the last rite allows me to use an extra sense to feel out my surroundings. There's only the barest hint of malignant other before it disappears, as do the impressions of what I believe to have been footprints. It could have just been a fellow board member. But I don't believe my own excuse; things haven't been right since Damien went crazy on Cora a year ago. With his obsession escalating, to the point that Cora was granted an order of protection against him, and then the wreck, I've suspected that something was done to him to cause it. My bet is that the senior members of the Order were behind it, but so far I've been unable to find any proof of it. Finding out who was, or still is, in this room spying might be the lead that I need.

  With the disappearance of the person or entity, the dean comes back to himself, seemingly having reached a decision. And now conspiracy theories run rampant in my head that there's someone else directing events behind the scenes. I'll have to talk to the others and hope like hell they keep it to themselves. Damien had been my counterpart, and adjusting to my new coterie is a work in progress.

  "I expect weekly updates before the meetings. You're under a deadline, boys— if I suspect you're not doing your utmost to precipitate the awakening of the girl's abilities, the chairman will take matters into his own hands." We all remain frozen at the implications until the dean barks out a curt dismissal that has us giving short nods of respect and retreating to the hall. Cora had been in her room when we left— hopefully she hasn't had enough time to get up to anything that will have repercussions for all of us.

  When I voice as much, the others pick up the pace to get back to the dorms.

  Chapter Twelve

  Cora

  A herd of men nearly take out the door as they push in all at once. My last forkful of noodles plops back into their styrofoam cup, splashing broth up onto my hand.

  "You're still here," Jag's declaration rushes out in a breath that sounds curiously like relief— which makes no sense to me. As far as I'm aware they'd prefer I throw the towel in and vacate the premises.

  "Uh, yeah. Where else would I be?" My expression says it all— he's an idiot. While I wait for him to tell me where I could have possibly gone, my tongue catches the drops on the back of hand. Lifting my eyes at the prolonged silence, I find the idiot has multiplied by five, and they're all staring at me. "What the heck is wrong with you all? I won't eat on the couch if it's going to cause more problems. I'm sure it's seen worse than a ramen noodle or two… Oh, yuck, I sat on it." Lurching to my feet, I'm quickly reminded by my abused muscles to slow down.

  "Wait, we just want to talk— clear the air." I pause next to the couch and eye Drake suspiciously, clutching my cup in front of my body. They try anything funny, and someone is getting forked.

  As if he senses my thoughts— and that he'd be the first to get stabbed, Blaise extends a hand. "I can take that for you if you'd like."

  I back away, not trusting his overture. "I'm not finished yet. And did you have a stroke? You're not nice."

  Blaise's lips settle into a straight, firm line as his pupils flare in annoyance and something else I'm sure isn't meant for me. "I can be nice, Cora. I just rarely have reason to be." Nope, he has to be on something.

  My feet shuffle backward, easing toward my bedroom door. Something has changed, and I'm not up to finding out what it is—there's zero chance we went from duking it out to… attraction? It's a prank. The thought makes my belly clench in trepidation as horror stories and movie plots about screwing with "the girl" run through my head. I should have expected a move like this.

  Blunt and to the point, I ask, "What's your game, Blaise?"

  He shrugs, glancing at Jaeger before answering. "Maybe I had a change of heart? You seem to be more broken than I thought...I prefer my adversaries to be in working order. It's not as fun playing with broken toys."

  A frisson of fear coasts down my spine— that sounds more in tune with his personality. Jag scowls at Blaise, shaking his head, and tries to smooth over the situation.

  "Cora, you've had a shitty time for a year now, and despite the animosity between you and Blaise, we have a vested interest in making sure you do well and complete the contract.” Jag pinches the bridge of his nose, letting a groan escape. “You know, it’s impossible to talk to you with the recent history hovering over us, waiting to turn any conversation into a battleground. You know there’s a contract, and we know as well. Because of the part we played, the Board of Directors, Damien’s father, and the attorneys have decided the five of us will get you through school, and then we can all go back to our lives. You signed the papers saying you’d comply, so either work with us, or leave and take your chances starting over.”

  By now Jag has his arms crossed over his chest, and the others are staring at him like he’s lost his ever-loving mind. I know there’s more to it than what he said, me leaving the school has never been on the agenda for anyone, but if the board is holding something over them to make them my keepers, then I plan to use it to my advantage.

  Surprising the hell out of them all, I nod. “Sure, whatever you say, big brother. But housekeeping needs to shampoo the furniture. I’m not sitting in God knows whose snail trail.” Ash chokes a bit, and I’m not sure if it’s at the ‘bro’ or the leavings from their cum dumpsters, but I decide to test my newfound power. “What’s wrong, Daddy? I thought you all were about keeping it in the family?”

  Seriously, with the way the upper echelon of our community intermingles, I wouldn’t doubt there’s some incest going on. Just take Damien and Drake for example, rumors are that Damien Sr. is actually Drake’s father after having an affair with his half-sister that was a by-blow of his father by his mistress. But it didn’t come out until Drake was a little kid, and his mom still refused to say who the sperm donor was. Shortly after, she got some mysterious illness, and Drake went to live with Damien. Last I knew, his mom was in a facility-- comatose. And doesn't that sound familiar? It makes me wonder if I can find out if she had any marks on her like the guys and Kael have.

  Ash and Jag interrupt my dot connecting revelation, bitching about my manner of address. While Ash mutters unintelligibly, Jag lays into me.

  "Cora, you have to stop with the names. It's just too weird. If you remember correctly, before Damien, and even before you and Ash had a thing, our parents had hoped we might hit it off." My mouth gapes at Jag,not remembering things in quite that same manner. All thoughts of the similarities between Drake's mom and Kael flee from my mind.

  "What in the actual fuck are you talking about Jag? That was never a thing."

  A black brow raises above a deep blue eye. "I distinctly remember my father
mentioning it when they married."

  My incredulity is boundless. "You hear how fucked up that is coming out of your mouth, right? Our parents got together, so we would hook up? Who does that? I'm sure there's a name for that depth of depravity. Besides, they had a hissy when I wouldn't consider Damien as dating material. And what about Ash? You all knew we were together, granted, it wasn't very long, but no one kicked up a fuss over it."

  I could definitely see my mom going along with something like that. She’d started acting odd, caring less and less about what I was doing as long as I behaved. Then a few months later, she had a quiet ceremony while I was at school, and I came home to Jag and his dad, Richard, carrying boxes into our house from a moving van. Aside from that, so much just doesn't add up.

  I stare from one to another of the bunch spread out in front of me— and none of them seem a bit surprised. Except Jag.

  "Your mom really never discussed any of it with you?" His eyebrows dip together, the worry apparent in his gaze.

  "No, she didn't. Mom never discussed much of anything with me. Even down to having to find out what to do for my period from the school nurse," I spit out, exasperated. "Then your dad happened, and you know the rest. I kept my grades up, did my chores, and stayed off her radar. The most interest I got was when she caught me puking my guts up before school one day." The memories are still raw enough that I desperately want to change the subject. "Can we pretend this conversation never happened and move on to dealing with whatever needs to be addressed so we annoy each other the least amount for the next few years?" Jag nods, but something feels really off with him.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Blaise

  Holy fuck. She really knows nothing. Ash had said as much when we all became concerned about him asking her out. She'd been sweet and shy, something Ash has a major hard-on for. Not to mention he'd had a crush on her since grade school. Come highschool, we knew she was off-limits, but Cora had been just as enamored with Ash as he was with her, and he’d asked her out anyway. No one has ever explained why the ruling members suspected she and Damien would match, it was just stated one day, when it was apparent we were getting too close with her, that that's how it was going to be and the rest of us had to come to terms with it. Drake found out afterwards that Damien was aware as far back as he can remember knowing about the Order, so it had to be something that happened when we were too young to remember.

  Jaeger’s dad had even moved them closer to her after Jaeger matched with Damien at an introductory meeting in their teens. It was only going to be a matter of time before Damien and Jaeger claimed her upon her ascension, and we all dreaded losing her. It was a finality we couldn't fight against, and maybe that’s why Ash took the chance that he did.

  The rest of us had kept it to friends only, or in my case— asshole territory. It was easier than letting her see the attraction I held for her, as we all did. Easier to keep her away, anyway. As for me, it's always been hell, but back then we weren't meant to be, and now— well, now it's safer for her stay away from all of us. The current situation is a temptation I’m having a hard time ignoring, and I know the others are as well. Ash nearly jumped on it, but she scorned him too, and he isn't taking it so well. Although it's funny as hell seeing her messing with him even if I have to pretend it's not. Getting her to leave would be the best thing for her, even if it will screw the rest of us, but her stubborn ass is taking it as a personal challenge. I’ve gotta give her props for taking me down; my throat still feels sore. It makes it hard to keep chasing her away when all I really want to do is keep pushing her to fight, to never back down, but that might get her killed in the long run.

  Cora doesn't know it, but she saved our asses. That same meeting had matched me and Drake, and then Riggs and Ash to be pairs for a coterie, but we were never meant to be a larger group. It came out later what we had done, after all the shit went down with Damien. He'd tried to claim her in a frenzy induced by his ascension or by something the Order had orchestrated, and our own had all quickly followed. Cora had been holed up at home during that time, away from all of us after our betrayal. Not that I blame her for it. We had no recourse, even if we hated it. The days after that summer night were filled with induction ceremonies and evenings spent with specialized classes learning the basics of the craft and the magic behind it.

  Most children of Order members knew the gist of what went on by the time they were teenagers, but due to the covenants of silence and secrecy, we weren't allowed to discuss it until after our induction ceremonies. Not all family members are accepted into the Order— or they're marked as low-tier vessels, only good for consumption. Which makes me and the others think that maybe Cora never knew about any of it in the first place. She’d never directly brought anything up, so I’d assumed she was keeping her mouth shut about it like my dad had warned me to do before we moved in with her and her mom. The four of us had been breaking the rules when we played with things we didn’t understand after discovering what was in store for us. It's when us four received our marks that caused the problem. Drake was the only one that was supposed to get one that night, as we'd each have our own individual ceremonies, but when the rune was carved into his wrist, mine, Ash, and Riggs' arms lit up— without a mark on us. To say the members were pissed is an understatement and we had to reveal the unsanctioned blood bond we'd made.

  I swallow hard, remembering the decree that came down after we’d fessed up. We were to be used as vessels for our punishment. If any of us survived, then so be it, but most likely we’d have ended up like Olivia. A shudder works its way through me at the reminder-- it was our first direct participation in that manner— and a stark example of the repercussions if we fail in our duties. Cora being tied to us through Drake gave us a reprieve. The council members of the Order still aren't happy with us, but they don't want to fuck up her ascension, and without her siphons, she'll burn out, especially if rumors of what the Axiom can do are true.

  "Agreed, Blaise?" Jaeger saying my name brings me back to the present matters— and I have no clue what I'm supposed to agree to.

  "Uh, sure, why not?" My agreeance is met by Cora's sniff of disbelief, and I know I'm going to regret answering blindly.

  "You're just gonna let it go? All of it? No more rude shit?" She smirks at me, adding, "You weren't paying attention at all, were you?"

  Obviously not. And of course no one would fill me in because that's what Jaeger wants. To refuse after I've just agreed will most likely end up with my ass kicked. The idiot is convinced we can save her from the council members’ machinations. Personally, I'd prefer if she ran away, but the knowledge that other sects will be salivating at the chance to snap her up means she wouldn't stay free for long— everyone knows it's only a matter of time before one of the chapters pops up with this generation's Axiom Host. It's a damned mess all around, and we're all unwilling participants. The dean wasn't playing around. Maybe Jaeger's plan to use her after we're bound DOES have merit. It's not the most altruistic reason for going along, but it will have to do.

  "You all prattling on hurts my head. Maybe you shouldn't injure people if you expect them to hang on your every word." Her face reddens in anger, and before anyone else can get on me, literally in Cora's case, I hold my hands up. "That wasn't even bad! I'll work on it, okay?"

  Her irritation doesn't lessen, but she grits out "Fine" before sitting her now empty container on the coffee table and limping off the short distance to her room.

  When she's gone, the guys start bitching at me, but I hold up my hand again, stalling them. "What's wrong with her leg?" They seem surprised at my concern, and I realize I may have played the asshole a bit too well, even around my friends. "Seriously, I was thinking about other shit, but I’ll try. What does she need?"

  Ash starts before Jaeger can. "Cora said she needs to do less physically and sleep better. And keep her appointments— there's going to be a scan set up to make sure everything is okay, probably tomorrow if they can get her in. Ot
herwise, just don’t overexert herself. She is missing a kidney.” He leaves out the other organ she’s missing, but I wince internally at the reminder.

  It probably doesn’t matter what I do. After my comments, I doubt she’ll ever see me as more than the jerk that rubbed salt on her fresh wounds. At least Riggs hadn’t been quite as awful; honestly, him being a shit to her the first day was surprising considering he’s as hung up on her as Ash. It makes sense they'd be interested in the same female with them being paired as siphons for their coterie-- all they’d needed before was to find their vessel, but with all of us tied to Drake who took Damien's place with Cora, I guess that’s no longer an issue. He's been keeping quiet the last few days, and I wonder what’s going on with him. Usually he's not shy about voicing his opinions.

  Attempting to suss him, out I bring up the need for Cora's chaperoning, staring at him directly. "So, should we get a schedule figured out that fits around us all, or what?"

  His scowl is immediate. "Why are you looking at me, Blaise? Seems Jaeger and Ash have it under control so far. We each keep an eye on her in classes. Isn't that enough for you?"

  Jaeger intervenes before we can get into an argument, determined to keep the peace and save us from ourselves. "Is there a problem with escorting Cora that we should know about?” Jaeger’s stern countenance indicates that he’d better not.

  Riggs’ jaw is set, obviously unhappy with something. “I’d hoped to have a personal life while I can, Jag,” he whisper shouts at us, knowing the walls aren’t thick enough to stop more than a quiet conversation from carrying to Cora. "This entire thing is doomed. We only got a stay of execution. When she ascends, we'll be the council's bitches more than we are now...at least until she's burnt out and of no further use to them, then who knows what will happen, but it won't end well."