by C. J. Hill
Yes, they’d be very different, although not necessarily better. What would her father make of Dr. B’s methods, none of which were legal? The authorities needed to gather their own evidence to convict the senator of any wrongdoing.
“The FBI has reason to suspect Ethington now,” Tori said. “They’ll tap his phone, follow him, do whatever they need to catch him, right?”
Her father sat down in his chair, frustration evident in every movement. “Maybe, maybe not. The FBI is hesitant to spy on presidential candidates. It could be construed as political muckraking.”
“Don’t they care about national security?”
“Of course they do. But they also have to follow the law in regards to people’s rights and civil liberties.”
“Red tape.” Tori crossed her arms and scowled. “That’s what will destroy the country—not bombs or an EMP. It’ll be red tape. Don’t you ever want to cut through all that and get things done?”
“Every day. But that’s not how the system works. Sometimes our hands are tied.”
Maybe her father’s hands were tied, but hers weren’t. Not as long as her parents didn’t know she was a Slayer. And right then, she finally stopped wishing she could tell her father the truth.
* * *
Tori’s talk with her father put her behind in her morning schedule; she was nearly late to school. Lars had an unhealthy obsession with driving the speed limit, and no amount of assurance on Tori’s part that he wouldn’t be pulled over for driving five miles over would make him apply more pressure to the gas pedal. In fact, she was pretty sure he slowed down a few times to spite her.
Really, you ditched a guy a couple of times and he got all childish and vindictive.
When Tori finally made it to journalism, she found Jesse in his seat. Tacy sat next to him, leaning over as she talked. She was blonde and beautiful and practically oozing charm all over his desk.
Tori strolled over anyway. She was supposed to act flirty with him so people wouldn’t be surprised when they became a couple. Tacy would just have to get used it.
When she reached Jesse, Tori tried to think of something clever to say, even though she wanted to talk about busting the smuggling operation and her irritation over the unlikely odds of the FBI locking up Ethington anytime soon. Of course, she couldn’t mention any of that with other people around.
“Hey,” she said gesturing to Jesse’s polo shirt. “I like your outfit. Where’d you get it?” It was a lame joke, and an old one about their uniforms. Everyone wore red or white polo shirts. Boys wore tan pants, girls red and plaid skirts.
Tacy sent Tori an unimpressed look, a message to back off. Miss Cheerleader clearly didn’t want her time with Jesse interrupted.
He smoothed his shirt. “I bought this at a shop that made me feel like I was enrolling in Hogwarts. You?”
Tori leaned back against the empty desk on Jesse’s other side. “I got mine at the same place. Did they give you a wand?”
“I must have missed that aisle.”
“That’s okay,” Tacy broke in. “Not all guys need a wand to cast a spell.”
Cheesy line. Granted, a lot of flirting was made up of cheesy lines, but still.
Jesse smiled at Tacy and then glanced at Tori with a questioning look. Was he expecting her to top that?
“She’s right,” Tori said in an attempt to recapture the flirting high ground. “You have magic potential. Definitely.”
Melinda walked up and joined the group. “Who’s magical?”
“Jonathan.” Tacy turned to him. She had her come-hither smile down. Not too obvious, but still inviting.
Tori tried again. “And if you ever need a magician’s assistant . . .” She regretted the sentence immediately. It was borderline pathetic.
Tacy snorted and rolled her eyes. “Do you need someone to cut you in half, Tori? Or do you just want to put on a sparkly costume?”
Melinda laughed uncomfortably, her gaze bouncing between Jesse, Tori, and Tacy.
This was not going how Tori had planned. When had she gotten so bad at flirting?
Jesse smiled, amused, and leaned back in his chair. He was enjoying the fight for his attention a little too much.
“Anything to get out of wearing a plaid skirt,” Tori said, in what she hoped was a lighthearted and not skanky manner.
Jesse raised an eyebrow, indicating her answer had come out skanky anyway. “I wouldn’t let Roland hear you say that. He might change the lyrics to your song.”
Tacy perked up at this bit of news. “Did Roland write Tori a love song? That’s so sweet.” To Jesse she added, “Roland and Tori are sort of an item.”
“So I’ve heard,” Jesse said dryly.
“No, we’re not,” Tori insisted. “We’re just friends.”
“Really?” Tacy asked with false innocence. “I thought you were together.”
“No, I’m completely free.” That also sounded pathetic. “You know . . . I mean . . .” Time to change the subject. “Did you hear about Newark?” She was asking Jesse whether Dr. B had given him the news this morning.
He didn’t seem to understand. “No. What happened?”
“Oh, well . . .” She’d have to tell him about it later. “The Coast Guard caught some smugglers.”
Everyone stared at her for a moment and then Tacy said, “That’s a random piece of news.”
Dr. Meyerhoff walked into the room, sipping a cup of coffee as he headed to his desk. “Take your seats, please.”
“We’d better sit down,” Melinda said, and motioned for Tori to walk with her to their chairs in the back of the room.
Tori started after her, then looked over her shoulder. “Talk to you later, Jesse.”
“Jonathan,” Melinda corrected.
“Right. I meant Jonathan.” Ugh. Tori couldn’t believe she’d slipped up. She was no doubt going to hear about that later.
After they settled into their desks, Melinda leaned close and lowered her voice. “Okay, as your friend, I think it’s time to hold an intervention.” She held out her hand to emphasize her point. “I know you think Jonathan is hot, but that was the most dismal attempt of throwing yourself at a guy I’ve ever seen.”
“I wasn’t throwing myself at him,” Tori whispered back.
Melinda fixed her with an I’m-not-buying-it stare.
“Okay, maybe I was throwing myself at him a little. But dismal is a strong word.”
“You offered to be his assistant, told him you wanted to get out of your skirt, and then got his name wrong.”
Tori slouched down in her seat. “All right, it was kind of dismal.”
Dr. Meyerhoff was shuffling through his notes at the front of the room.
Melinda cast a glance at him and then spoke to Tori again. “In the future, if you want to make small talk, remember that throwing out crime facts from other states isn’t the best way to do it.”
That was unfair. True, maybe, but unfair.
“I have a feeling he likes me anyway,” Tori said. “I mean, he smiled at me.”
Melinda considered Tori’s statement with marked skepticism. “You might be able to salvage your chances if you start acting less needy and strange.” She leaned closer, all pep talk now. “Have some pride. Use a little aloofness. Make him work for it. You’re Tori Hampton.”
Thankfully, Dr. Meyerhoff began his lesson, cutting off any more flirting advice from Melinda. Tori opened her notebook and tried to put thoughts of Jesse out of her mind. She had to force herself to keep her eyes on the teacher so they didn’t wander to Jesse’s dark hair. Or to his broad shoulders. Or to the way the muscles in his arm moved as he took notes.
She was hopeless, really.
Halfway through class, she heard Overdrake’s voice in her mind. He was near a dragon and talking to her.
“Tori, we haven’t chatted for a while. Perhaps for too long.”
Heat rushed through her, her senses suddenly alert, on fire.
“Dirk might have told y
ou that I’ve agreed not to hurt you so long as you’re not fighting against me. He seems to think there’s hope for you as a dragon lord, and he may be right. He knows you better than I do.”
Overdrake’s voice was light, almost casual, but it had a hard undercurrent to it. “So as a courtesy to both of you, I’m officially warning you to stay out of my business. You can have a long and happy life, Tori. You can have whatever it is Dirk wants to give you. But if you cross me . . . don’t think I can’t get to you or your family. I can. I can get to your sister, your parents, to anyone and anything you care about, including your dog.”
Tori swallowed hard. She’d been right. He’d taken her dog.
“Brindy, isn’t it? That’s what the tag said.”
Tori shut her eyes. She wished she had a way to yell at Overdrake, to tell him he’d better not even think of hurting anyone in her family. Instead she was stuck in class, silently listening, and helpless to do anything.
She gripped her pencil, waiting to see if Overdrake would say more. The teacher’s lecture became a meaningless background buzz. Where was Brindy now? Was she still alive?
Students weren’t allowed to use phones in class. If she was caught with one out, it would be confiscated. Still, she wanted to message Dirk and ask if he knew that his father had taken her dog.
If Dirk knew that his father had taken Brindy, she wanted to yell at him for letting it happen. If he didn’t know, she wanted him to get mad at his father. And she wanted him to find out where Brindy was and take her someplace safe.
She waited until Dr. Meyerhoff was writing on the whiteboard and then rifled through her bag for her phone.
“Do you know how dragons eat?” Overdrake asked. “If they’re hungry, and the animal is large—say, human size—they bite their prey in half and eat it in two large gulps. If there’s an abundance of prey, however, they just break the animal’s back to keep it from escaping. It’s a slow, painful death, but one that keeps the meat fresh longer. I’m sure you don’t want to see your family end up crippled and waiting for the inevitable. You wouldn’t want to make your parents watch your sister be ripped apart, would you?”
Fear and rage twisted inside Tori, making it hard to breathe. Her hands trembled as she searched her bag.
“Imagine your family at my enclosure,” he went on. “Because that’s what will happen if there are any more unexpected raids on my men.”
She heard a whine next to the dragon, the sound of a frightened dog.
“Need more convincing? An object lesson, perhaps?”
A gasp escaped Tori’s lips. Was he going to feed Brindy to a dragon?
She’d heard the cries of pigs and the bellows of cattle when being fed to a dragon. Never a dog.
Another yelp came, almost a shriek. It was cut short.
“No!” Tori actually yelled the word. She put a shaking hand to her mouth and listened, hoping to hear Overdrake’s assurance that Brindy was okay, that it was all just a threat.
Dr. Meyerhoff stopped writing on the whiteboard in surprise. “You have objections to The Freedom of Information Act, Miss Hampton?”
She stared at him wide-eyed, unable to answer. The whole class had turned to gawk at her, a sea of perplexed gazes.
She heard crunching, the sound of bones breaking.
Tori let out a half-gasp, half-cry. Her stomach turned. She tried to minimize her hearing as much as she could. She didn’t want to hear more. Couldn’t handle what she’d already heard.
Everyone was peering at her, but she couldn’t explain her behavior.
Jesse’s gaze went to hers, worried. He, at least, understood that she must have heard something disturbing. He seemed to be waiting to see if she touched her watch to send Dr. B an attack message.
She didn’t. Dr. B could do nothing about Brindy. This wasn’t a situation that warranted putting the Slayers on alert.
Dr. Meyerhoff looked her over, trying to see the cause of her outburst. “Are you all right?”
“I—I’m sick.” She grabbed her bag and stood up. “I have to go.” She headed to the door, fighting the tears that pressed against her eyes.
“Check in with the school nurse,” Dr. Meyerhoff called.
She was out the door before she could reply.
Overdrake was speaking again. “Leave the Slayers. You aren’t really one of them, and they all know that. You’re a socialite. Go back to your shopping and your friends. Go back to travel, chocolate, and whatever else you do.” His tone grew more clipped. “But stay out of my way, or next time, it won’t be a dog you hear.”
Tori looked around the hallway, unsure of where to go or what to do. She wanted to leave, wanted to call her family and assure herself that they were all right. She couldn’t. Her parents would ask why she was calling in the middle of the day, crying. And if she went to the office and claimed to be ill, the nurse would put her through an array of questions. Tori didn’t feel capable of speaking, let alone sitting through the pretense of getting her temperature taken.
She walked numbly toward one of the side doors. She’d go outside and either hide behind a tree on the grounds or disappear into the bleachers until she calmed down.
Be angry, she told herself, not sad. Let the anger focus you so the sadness can’t overwhelm you. But it was hard to think logically about anything. The memory of Brindy’s final cries were looping through her mind.
She turned down a short side hallway that led to one of the emergency exits. They were locked from the outside but had to be kept unlocked from the inside in case of fire. Students weren’t supposed to use them except in an emergency.
Through the door’s window, she saw trees, fading autumn grass, and the back of the bleachers ringing the athletic field. She reached for the door handle but then hesitated. Had Overdrake figured out she hadn’t changed schools when she moved?
What if he’d talked to her just now to flush her out of the building? What if his men were waiting for her out there? They could have breached the school grounds. This could be an ambush.
Tori dropped her hand from the door, undecided. She hated that she’d reached the point where she couldn’t even walk out of her own school without worrying about her safety.
Well, forget that. She refused to be a prisoner in her own life. She’d go outside if she wanted to. She needed to be alone.
Tori put her hand back on the handle but didn’t push it open. She couldn’t afford to be careless. Her life wasn’t the only one hanging in the balance. She had to stay safe to protect people against a dragon attack. Her life wasn’t her own anymore. Despite what Overdrake said, for her, there was no going back to the way things used to be.
She stepped away from the door, feeling defeated, then leaned back against the wall and slid to the floor. With head in hands, she let the tears come. Everyone in class probably thought she’d had some sort of nervous breakdown, and if she didn’t pull herself together before the bell rang, people would see her crying here—and yet she couldn’t even go outside for privacy.
This is what being a Slayer had done to her.
A pair of footsteps sounded in the main hallway. She hoped whoever it was would pass by. They didn’t. Instead, they came down the side hallway toward her. She didn’t want to look up, didn’t want to see anyone. But what if it was one of Overdrake’s men? Her head snapped up.
Jesse was hurrying toward her. She slumped in relief.
He sat on the floor beside her and gathered her into a hug, cradling her to him. He was warm and strong, everything she needed. “What happened?” he asked.
She rested her cheek against his chest, took deep breaths, and told him everything.
He let out a sigh, but his muscles didn’t tighten in outrage like she’d expected. Instead, they relaxed. Perhaps he’d been expecting worse. “I’m so sorry, Tori.”
“He threatened my family,” she emphasized.
“We’ll warn your bodyguards.”
She shook her head. “We get threats all th
e time. This doesn’t change anything, it’s just . . . this is so personal.” She wiped at her eyes, trying not to smear her mascara into a mess in the process. “You probably think it’s silly to get so upset about Brindy, when Overdrake will be attacking cities soon enough.”
Jesse kept his hand on her back and rubbed her shoulder, a soft motion a consolation. “I don’t think it’s silly. Overdrake is striking where he knows he can hurt you. He wants to break you. But you can’t let him. “
She shut her eyes. “What if I can’t help breaking?”
His hand traveled down her back to her arm and then found her hand. “You’re stronger than that. Others paid for our freedom in the past, and now it’s our turn.”
She didn’t answer. He was right. The ghosts of patriots could make a line stretching from one end of the country to the other.
“Dr. B should know what happened,” Jesse said. “Do you want me to tell him so you don’t have to?”
She nodded. “Thanks.” While Jesse pushed the buttons on his watch to call Dr. B, Tori found her phone in her bag and wrote to Dirk, telling him what his father had done.
Did you know about it? she asked at the end.
Overdrake would see the message. She was sure now that he had access to the account. Not long ago, she’d told Dirk she was born for travel, chocolate, and sleeping in. Overdrake had just echoed the same words, telling her to go back to those things. It couldn’t be coincidence.
Dirk didn’t answer right away. She hadn’t expected him to. He was probably in school or busy somewhere plotting with his father’s minions. She shoved her phone back into her bag.
When Jesse was done with Dr. B, he put his arm around her again. “Dr. B said to tell you he’s sorry about Brindy.”
Tori nodded and leaned in to Jesse.
“Someday, all of this will be over,” he said. “You won’t always have to deal with Overdrake.”
That time seemed far away and indistinct, a dream that might blink away. Still, she had to do this—she had to be a Slayer. No matter what Overdrake said, she didn’t have a choice. She could feel the eyes of those ghostly patriots all watching her.
