by D.J. Bodden
CHAPTER 12
Jonas had no illusions that Eve was going to take it easy on him. He lunged into Kieran’s mind as quickly as he could.
♟
There were no complicated constructions in Kieran’s mind. The other boy saw himself as he was, though maybe a little smaller, standing in the training room. The young werewolf looked around, confused, and then clutched his head as Eve started pumping raw anger into it.
Jonas immediately began throwing up walls. It was just like doing it in his own mind, except it took more time and required more effort. Kieran groaned and said, “What are you doing to me?”
“Trying to protect you,” Jonas answered. “It won’t hurt as much if you don’t fight it.” He paused as Fangston’s words left his mouth, but Kieran nodded and building the walls got easier for Jonas. He’d just managed to block off the entrance to the training room when he realized his mistake. Kieran couldn’t tell the difference between Jonas and Eve, so when he gave in to Jonas…
Kieran roared. Electric-blue-eyed and noticeably larger than he’d been a few seconds before, he plowed through Jonas’ wall and ran out into the hallway. The impact felt like someone had driven a spike between Jonas’ eyes.
“Kieran, wait!” Jonas said, running after him.
The geography outside the training room quickly fell apart. Jonas rounded the corner, and he was on the streets of New York, chasing Kieran through traffic and crowded sidewalks. The werewolf was a large, dark blur, smashing cars and knocking people out of his way as he ran. Police officers took shots at him. When they managed to hit him, Kieran roared and sent them flying into passing cars or nearby buildings.
This is all his own mind, Jonas thought, watching the carnage. Some of the bystanders were on the ground, badly injured, and others ran for their lives, getting in Jonas’ way in the process. Jonas wasn’t sure how badly Kieran could harm himself, mentally, but it couldn’t be good for him. He was killing his own guardians out of rage and fear.
“Kieran!”
Jonas rounded a corner and found himself in a dark forest. He looked behind him, but there was no sign of the city. He remembered what Viviane had said, that the landscape of the mind was only limited by imagination. Kieran was angry, under attack. This is where he feels safe, Jonas thought. He walked deeper into the shadows, needing to find the distraught werewolf and calm him down.
“He’s a hunter, Kieran! He’s coming for you!” Eve shouted, and Jonas felt his pulse pounding in his neck. Her disembodied voice came from every direction, as if carried on the wind that blew through the leafy canopy above. Suddenly, there was a weight in Jonas’ right hand. It was an ornate, silver knife, with a wolf’s head pommel. He heard a deafening roar, and his view was filled with white fur, glowing blue eyes, and teeth.
“Kieran, no!”
♟
Jonas had just enough time to see the blow coming. He was back in the training room, and Kieran had charged forward, shirt soaked with sweat and eyes gleaming fluorescent blue. Jonas got a sense of the werewolf’s momentum, but couldn’t move out of the way quickly enough. In that fleeting moment before impact, he imagined himself stuck on the tracks before an oncoming train. Then Kieran’s fist drove up and into his body, launching him across the room. He hit the padded wall with a sickening smack and flopped to the ground, unconscious.
♟
“Jonas? Are you okay?” Eve was kneeling next to him, talking, but her voice sounded like she was far away.
He tried to sit up but fell back immediately, struck by a debilitating wave of dizziness and nausea. Holding his throbbing head in his hands, he said, “What… happened?” His lower back and left side felt like they were full of knives and broken glass.
“Easy. Let me help you up.” Eve reached under his armpits, lifting gently, and leaned him back against the wall. It hurt, but once he was in place, some of pain subsided.
“Head hurts,” Jonas said. His mouth was dry and his tongue felt thick.
“You have a concussion,” Viviane said. “Be careful raising your barriers, or you’ll—”
My barriers are down! Jonas thought, panicking, and tried to raise them all at once. He heard a high-pitched ringing in his ears and his head slumped forward.
“—pass out again,” Viviane finished, and sighed.
♟
Jonas drifted slowly back to consciousness and opened his eyes.
“—careful using your own anger. If he had more experience, he would have traced it back into your mind and you wouldn’t have noticed.” Viviane was speaking, then paused and turned her head to look at him. “He’s awake.”
Jonas was still propped up against the far wall of the training room, opposite the door. He could see now that Viviane had been talking to Eve — critiquing her performance, probably — and Kieran was sitting a few feet away, cross-legged, with his back against the wall, staring down at the floor.
“Kieran… you okay?” Jonas slurred. His head still throbbed and his throat seemed to be coated in sandpaper.
Kieran looked up. The whites of his eyes were still a little red, but his irises had changed from bright, electric blue back to the usual brown. “Jonas, I am so sorry. I thought I’d killed you.”
Jonas shook his head and immediately regretted it, as another wave of pain swept over him. “S’alright, man. Not your fault. My fault.” It wasn’t poetry, or particularly inspiring, but it was all he was capable of at the moment. He paused, remembering the sight of Kieran fighting his own mind, then said, “You were attacking yourself pretty good in there. It was messy.”
“Cognitive dissonance,” Viviane said, whatever that meant.
Kieran winced. “Can’t help it, not if…” Kieran stopped mid-sentence, looking embarrassed, as if he’d almost told Jonas a secret.
Eve and Viviane walked over, but Eve hung back a few steps, staring down at her feet. Viviane was calm and clinical, as always. “Do you know what you did wrong?”
Jonas stopped himself from nodding. “I think so.”
“Explain,” Viviane said, crossing her arms.
Jonas forced himself to relax, trying to put himself outside his pain. “I convinced Kieran to drop his defenses instead of just talking to him. Eve is stronger than me, so that worked to her advantage.” He glanced at Kieran, who looked like Jonas had just said the kindest thing he’d ever heard.
“Thanks, man,” Kieran mouthed, silently.
Viviane nodded. “If you work with each other regularly, Kieran can learn to pick you out from others. What else?”
Jonas licked his lips. “I reacted to what Eve did, instead of thinking ahead and trying to counter what she was going to do.”
Viviane uncrossed her arms. “That’s good. I didn’t expect you to win, in any case, but you’re grasping the principles at least. You missed a few other opportunities, mostly through inexperience.” Counting off on her fingers, she continued. “First, never trap a werewolf. Second, if someone is running from you in a mindscape, there isn’t any actual distance between you. It only takes the faintest suggestion to shift yourself ahead of them. You could also have attacked Eve’s mind directly, or channeled Kieran’s aggression against her. Lastly, if someone is afraid of you, you’ll always come out on top in a fight. Not something I’d recommend in a real fight with a werewolf but, in the forest, you could have stood your ground and won.”
Jonas blinked. “You were there?”
“Yes, I was in all three of your minds the whole time,” she said, and winked at him.
I didn’t feel her, and Sam never noticed, Jonas thought, followed by, I can’t believe she just winked at me. It was like she was baiting him to relax so she could pounce on him.
“Eve, take Jonas to the mess hall and get at least two bags into him,” Viviane said. “Three if he can manage it.” She turned to Kieran. “Let’s talk about how that went for a minute, then I want you to meditate for half an hour.”
“Yes ma’am,” the young werewolf said, looking ashamed.
/> Eve walked over and helped Jonas up, putting his arm over her shoulders. He looked down at Kieran and said, “We’ll do better next time.”
“Yeah, I hope so,” Kieran said, giving him a half smile.
♟
Leaning on Eve for support, Jonas hobbled his way to the Agency cafeteria. They drew a few stares, but most everyone ignored them. I guess seeing a broken and bruised vampire is normal around here, Jonas thought.
Eve sat him down, grabbed two blood packs from the fridge, then pulled the tab on one, and set it in front of him. She sat across from him with her own. It was several awkward minutes before their eyes met.
“I’m sorry,” they both said at the same time.
“What did you—?”
“I shouldn’t have—”
They both laughed, which made Jonas groan. “Hold on,” he said, bringing the blood pack up to his lips. There was the same sense of lost time, and the pouch was empty. “How long do the blackouts last?” he asked.
“A couple months,” Eve said.
His throat and tongue felt instantly better, and a tingling sensation radiated out from his stomach. He thought back to the conversation he’d had with Eve, when she’d given him the tour. “Like cold water on a hot day.”
She smiled. “You remembered.”
“Yeah. The change is improving my memory.”
She shook her head. “It’s not magic, Jonas. Not all of it, anyway. You don’t get new memories you never made.”
He glanced down at his hands. They were shaking slightly. “Listen, I’m sorry I used something important to you as a way to slip past your barrier. Or try to, anyway, because I got lost the second I started to go through.”
“It’s okay. I lost my temper.”
Jonas looked up. “No, it’s not okay, because…” He thought about the detachment, the casual cruelty that most vampires — his mother included — seemed capable of. “We’re creating a world where no one can trust each other. No wonder the older vampires are…”
“Eccentric?” Eve offered.
“I was going to say ‘paranoid and mad as hatters,’ but maybe eccentric is a safer way to put it.”
Eve nodded. “Some of them get obsessive about it. They wrap worlds within worlds, barrier over barrier, until all their brainpower is devoted to checking their defenses and laying more and more complicated traps.”
Jonas thought of his mother, and how distracted she seemed lately. “That’s not how I want to end up.”
“Me neither,” Eve said, taking a sip from her pouch and carefully setting it back on the table. The blackouts may go away after a couple months, Jonas thought, but it still looks like she has to concentrate pretty hard on not draining the pouch in one sip. He felt thirsty again, and moved to get up.
Eve stopped him. “I’ll get it.”
While she went to fetch him another, Jonas tried not to look at the open pouch she’d left on the table. But the more he ignored it, the more it called out to him, making his hands itch.
He sat back. He could accept that Eve beat him in training, and that it would be a while before he could stop himself from gorging on blood, but his pride wouldn’t let him steal food from her.
Eve pulled the tab, stuck the straw in, and set the new pack in front of him. He put it to his lips and then it was empty, though he did feel full. He hissed irritably, and Eve grinned, taking another sip from hers.
“How about a truce? I won’t use your—,” he almost said loneliness, “—personal life against you during training.”
Her shoulders drooped fractionally, but she flashed him a smile and said, “Okay. What’s in it for you?”
She wants to talk to me, Jonas realized. He looked around the cafeteria — enforcers and other Agency types, talking in hushed tones or communicating by other means. A pair of werewolves in the corner were cramming chunks of raw meat into their mouths. They had a platter between them, each snarling whenever they’d grab for the same piece. He spotted a zombie shuffling toward the door with a half-gnawed monkey head tucked under its arm, and almost laughed out-loud. He enjoyed being there with Eve. He knew she didn’t have anyone else her age to talk to, except Kieran, maybe, but Jonas didn’t know how often the werewolf was around. Besides, the way she’d just messed with his brain probably put a damper on any possible friendship.
“I could come early or stay late, your choice. And maybe you could teach me some of the stuff Viviane would make me learn the hard way?”
Eve tapped her chin with a finger and raised an eyebrow. “Sure, I can do that for you.”
Jonas knew he hadn’t fooled her. She must have known that, on some level, he’d offered because he felt guilty about what happened in the training room, and because he felt sorry for her being cooped up in the Agency. He also knew that, on a conscious or unconscious level, she was lonely enough to not care.
♟
Saturday was a little better. His head felt more or less intact, but his ribs and back were still sore. Viviane didn’t push him. If anything, Jonas thought she seemed surprised that he’d showed up at all. Aside from giving him and Eve instructions for the session, she ignored them both.
Eve had been instructed to not lay a finger on him, not physically anyway. Instead, they spent the entire session sitting across from one another with their eyes closed, attacking each other’s barriers. Eve didn’t have anything close to Fangston’s power. She made Jonas strain, burned out portions of his short-term memory that left him wondering what he’d just been doing, but she never made it past his outer wall. That was part of the problem. As long as his walls and sentries weren’t compromised, Sam was — I am, Jonas corrected himself — fine with hunkering down until Eve got tired. He knew he’d have be more aggressive at some point, but he just didn’t feel strong enough in his current state.
When he did attack, getting past her walls wasn’t the problem — finding them was. It was like charging through walls of smoke, then smacking into something hard just as he ran out of steam, only to wind up back where he’d started. He wasn’t sure if she’d learned to do that, or if her mind was so convoluted that it simply worked that way on its own.
Taking a break, they walked to the cafeteria. As they entered, Kieran almost bowled them over. Instinctively, Jonas flinched, feeling an uncontrollable desire to hide behind Eve. The pain in his side still felt raw, and he had vivid memories of white fur, jagged teeth, and glowing, blue eyes.
Kieran had started to smile and greet them but must have noticed Jonas’ reaction, because he merely sighed and said, “Sorry,” with tight lips and downcast eyes. He darted around them and made for the door.
“Kieran, wait!” Jonas called out, but the other trainee was already past them, his big strides carrying him around the corner and out of sight.
“He’s not a bad guy,” Eve said. “If I hadn’t—”
“I know. It’s just that… when he hit me and I slammed into the wall, in that split second before darkness took me, I thought I was dead. What if he’d actually wanted to kill me?”
“No, I get it,” Eve said. “Kieran’s really strong, especially for an underfed werewolf.”
“What do you mean?”
“You saw him.”
Jonas hadn’t thought about it, and nodded his head. For his height — compared to other werewolves — Kieran did look a little thin.
“I heard he’s had a pretty rough time of it with his family,” Eve continued. “Do you know Bert Macready?”
“Yeah, he’s one of my bodyguards.”
Eve raised her eyebrows. “He’s like, second on the Macready food chain. The only person higher is…”
Jonas winced.
“Wait, Phillip Macready is guarding you too?”
Jonas gave an embarrassed shrug. “Is that bad?”
“Not bad, no. A waste of Agency resources? Maybe. But I guess someone thinks you’re worth the attention,” she said, eyeing him closely.
Jonas felt a prickling sens
ation around his collar. “I’ve got to sit down,” he said, feeling a little like a mouse being examined by a hawk.
“Sure.” She helped him to a table and sat him down, then went to grab food for them. While he waited, Jonas pulled a quarter from his pocket and rolled it across his knuckles the way his dad had taught him when he was younger. The repetitive motion calmed him.
“That’s a weird coin. Where did you get it?” Eve said.
Jonas frowned and looked up at her, “What? It’s just a quarter.”
“Let me see,” she said, holding out her hand.
He placed the coin on her outstretched palm. “Weird,” she said, handing it back. “I could have sworn it had a Maltese cross on one side and some funny, raised writing on the other.
She just described my dad’s coin, Jonas thought. Truth was, he had been thinking about his father while rolling the coin back and forth across his knuckles. He must have broadcasted that memory to Eve. “That is weird,” he said with a shrug, trying to hide his excitement. He’d done the same thing Viviane and his dad were able to do without even realizing it! “What were you saying about Bert and Kieran?” he added, changing the subject.
“Oh, right. I heard that Bert used to beat the crap out of him, trying to get him to fight back. You know, be a real werewolf. Supposedly, Kieran just sat there and took it, like he was afraid of hurting his older brother or something. Of course, that just made Bert angrier.” She took a sip from her pouch, then added, “You know, if you’ve been hanging around Bert, I bet Kieran smelled him on you.”
“Wow, you’re probably right. Maybe I got off easy after all,” Jonas said, grinning.
♟
Sunday morning, Jonas sat on the couch, rolling what appeared to be his dad’s lucky coin across his knuckles. He could do it on purpose now, although he wasn’t sure if others would be able to see it too or if he was just fooling himself.
He was sleeping less, waking fully rested on five or six hours a night. His back and ribs were still a little ginger to the touch, but feeling much better. At least he had full range of motion and the raging headache was gone. All in all, he felt pretty good, except for being thirsty all the time. Got to get myself one of those mini-fridges, he thought.
Amelia wasn’t answering his texts. For the past two years, Sundays had been their unofficial day out together. They’d go to a matinee, take walks in the park, study; didn’t really matter what, they’d do something together. Some of the guys he used to hang with had even called him “whipped,” but he’d never paid any attention to them. It was how he spent his Sundays. This is probably how she felt last week, he thought. Just have to give it time. It was only 10 a.m.; maybe she’d been up late.
He threw on a sweatshirt and headed out. As soon as he was clear of the apartment, Bert and Phillip fell in step behind him.
“Where we headed, kid?” Phillip asked.
I just need some time alone, he thought, and pushed the idea toward the two bodyguards before he realized what he was doing.
Bert’s faced changed in an instant, upper and lower teeth extending, eyes bright yellow, muscles bunching like he was about to leap at Jonas and tear him to shreds. But Phillip intervened, gripping the other werewolf’s shoulder until he calmed down. “Easy, Bert. I’m sure the kid didn’t mean it. He’s still learning, remember?” His voice was low and soothing; even Jonas felt calmer.
Bert closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. “If he ever tries to mess with my head again, I swear I’ll—”
“Enough!” Phillip said forcefully. Bert’s upper lip twitched. But instead of taking a swing at Phillip like Jonas half expected him to, he clamped his jaw shut, turned his back on the two of them, and walked a few steps away.
When Phillip turned back to Jonas, his voice no longer sounded soothing, but very stiff. “There was no need for that, Jonas. Can’t blame Bert for being upset either, seeing as how we’re trained to beat anyone who tries that into a bloody pulp before they gain control. Good way to get yourself hurt. And even if it worked, we wouldn’t be friends afterward. Do we have an understanding?”
Jonas nodded.
“You just tell us if you need space and we’ll give it to you.”
“Sorry,” Jonas said, looking at the pavement.
Bert grunted.
Someone shouted at a passing motorist and Jonas turned to look. When he turned back, his bodyguards were gone.