by Kristie Cook
“Seatbelt, Cora,” Karl says. He revs the engine. “I’m talking about Jonah Whitecomb.”
“You know Jonah?” she asks, surprised.
“I’ve known the Whitecombs for most of my life.” He slides a high-tech-looking cell phone into a special holder on the dashboard and dials a number. “They’re like brothers to me. Now, be quiet for once.” The call goes through. “Zthane?”
The gravelly voice that answers is crystal clear despite being on a cell speakerphone. “I would have thought you’d be taking Lilywhite into hiding by now—”
“In the process as we speak. Who’s Jonah Whitecomb’s assigned Guard?”
The voice answers, “Giuliana.”
Karl grinds out, “Why isn’t she with him right now?”
“There haven’t been any sightings in his area in the last month.”
“They’re here, Zthane. In California. Unprotected!” Karl swings the Hummer around a corner, forcing Cora and I to slide across our seats despite being buckled in.
“WHAT?” this Zthane roars. “Are they with you now?”
“No. My mission is Lilywhite, and by association Carregreen, only.”
“I know, I know,” Zthane mutters. “Okay. They can take care of themselves.” He yells at length to somebody on his side of the phone. “Giules is on her way. Dammit, Karl! Some idiot just handed me the change of address form Kellan dropped off a couple weeks ago when I was off on a mission.”
Karl sighs, scrubs at his face before jackknifing around another curve. “They’ll be fine, bro. This is Kellan we’re talking about. Jonah.”
But I am not willing, unlike these two, to simply assume that Jonah and his brother can take care of themselves, especially if they’re in some kind of danger. “Karl,” I interrupt, “go back for him.”
“Is that Lilywhite?” Zthane asks. But before Karl can answer, he says, “Get the Creator to safety. She’s our number-one priority.” And then he hangs up.
I try again, more forcefully. “Go back for him. Now.”
Karl doesn’t even bother looking at me. “No. There’s been an attack nearby. You aren’t safe.”
“What kind of attack?”
“I’ll tell you later, Chloe. Once we’re safely hidden.”
Panic tightens my chest. “Why would Jonah need a Guard?”
“Council bound, second tier. Only other person the Council deems crucial, next to you.”
“Why?” Cora asks—no, yells—over the sound of the Hummer roaring through the streets.
“How well do you know them?” Karl asks me, braking hard then gunning around another car.
“It’s—” I say, but he cuts me off.
“The Whitecombs are the most powerful Emotionals ever to be born.” He hits a button on speed dial on his phone. “One for the Council, one for the Guard. What they’ll do for us is …” He shakes his head. “Let’s just say they’re VIPs and leave it at that. Look, girls. I need to talk to them and explain some things. So, stay silent, please. I can’t concentrate on getting us out of here and talk to them if I’m fielding dumb questions the whole time.”
“Dumb questions?” Cora explodes, but Karl gives her a meaningful look in the rearview mirror.
“We’ll be quiet,” I assure him, wincing at Cora’s death grip on my shoulder.
He flips the call to speakerphone again, mumbling to me, “Dwarven technology is the best,” in an effort to explain how crystal clear the reception is.
Kellan answers after three rings. “Karl, Jonah says you’ve taken Chloe Lilywhite out of school?”
“Yes,” Karl says, pulling the Hummer out onto the highway.
“Want to explain why? And what you’re doing here?”
“I’ve been assigned to protect her. Hasn’t your dad told you anything about what’s going on lately?”
There’s a brief pause. “You think the Old Man’s changed his policy on parenting?”
Karl swerves around another car. “Good point. What about Zthane?”
Another pause for a brief discussion between the brothers, who are also on speakerphone. “Are you referring to the serial killings?”
They know. Of course they do. Everyone knew except me.
“Yes. The Council ruled last week to send out Guard to two Council-bound members—”
“Let me guess,” Kellan says flatly. “J and Chloe.”
“Yep.”
“If that’s the case, where’s my brother’s Guard?” Kellan snaps at the same time Jonah insists, “I don’t need one, Karl.”
“Council ruled, buddy. Take it up with them if you disagree.” Karl nearly hits two cars he tries to pass. “Just talked to Zthane. Giuliana is on her way as we speak. Are you doing what I said, Jonah?”
“We’re en route now,” Jonah answers.
“Kellan,” Karl says, “you’re under an order of protection, too.”
“Oh, for gods’ sakes,” Kellan mutters. “What a waste of Guard resources.”
“We can take care of ourselves,” Jonah adds, also annoyed, and I would giggle if I wasn’t so terrified at the moment, because he sounds so much like me.
“There’s been an attack nearby, forty minutes ago. One Magical hurt, three nons killed.”
Cora and I stare at each other in terror.
“Details?” Kellan asks.
“Giules will fill you in when she arrives,” Karl says, driving on the wrong side of the road and nearly killing us in the process. His eyes flick to the dashboard clock. “Portal from Annar is, what? Fifteen minutes from the school? Depending on your location, she should be there within a half-hour. Find a spot she can access without having to rip the city apart.”
Cora and I clutch onto the handlebars above us to stop from screaming as Karl skids into the proper lane.
“Texting her our location now,” Jonah says.
Cora leans forward and whispers into my ear, “Are we the only ones who don’t seem to know what in the hell is going on?”
I nod, eyes glued on the road.
“FYI,” Karl says, nearly hitting a semi, “the Guard have been authorized to use any force necessary on these missions.”
My mouth drops open. Any force necessary?
“Giules will like that,” Kellan says, and all three men laugh.
“Who is this Jewel they’re talking about?” Cora whispers.
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a couple of black shapes streaking next to the road. When I turn to fully look at them, my heart sputters. “Karl,” I say, tapping on the glass and frantically trying to not freak out and mistakenly set off an atomic bomb of fear, “look … look there … those, I don’t know what those are …”
His eyes follow my finger. The black shapes, misty and shifting, mass, break apart and then splinter into the road.
“Holy mother-effing shit.” He slams on the breaks. All the cars around begin swerving and skidding to halts. Several smash into each other.
“What’s going on?” both Kellan and Jonah demand, but we’re all staring at the shapes shifting in the road in front of us.
And then the screaming begins. Ear-piercing, agonizingly horrible screaming sounding like it’s coming from a million souls.
My feet scramble below me, searching for a non-existent gas pedal. “Do something. Do something now, Karl.”
I should be doing something, too. Gods, what? What can I do?
Karl throws the Hummer into reverse, gunning the engine. Jonah is yelling, “Where are you? What’s your location?”
“Get into hiding and wait for Giules!” Karl barks before hanging up, and the Hummer three-sixties as the black shapes surround us, still screaming. Then, to me and Cora, “Hang on, ladies!”
A couple of black shapes streak out in front of us, moving so fast I can’t fully determine their constitutions. One strikes the car hard, forcing Karl to slam on the brakes again; the Hummer skids as it rotates direction, nearly missing an overturned minivan.
“Tell me what to do!�
�� I shout. What good are my powers if I’m only to sit like a lame duck, ready to get picked off?
Another black shape smashes into the back, busting tail lights. Karl swerves past a downed motorcycle. “I don’t know, Chloe! Right now, we’re just going to run!”
The black streaks multiply faster than we’re able to outrace them. Karl’s driving at almost a hundred miles per hour, but these things are easily keeping pace.
“What are they?” I scream.
“I’m assuming,” he yells, dodging an attack, “these are the things that are killing our kind.”
Cars everywhere are out of control, but in this game of chicken, all manage to move out of Karl’s way. “Hold on,” he orders. Cora and I grab the handrails above us as he does a one-eighty, tires squealing against the blacktop. Behind us, an explosion ricochets, thrusting us into the air.
As I watch a wall of fire shoot sky high, the Hummer hits the ground. My head, on the other hand, hits glass.
Karl’s massive hands struggle against the wheel to steady us. “Earn your keep, Cora. She’s got a head injury.”
Everything tilts to the left when a touch to my head leaves my hand red and sticky.
“Lean back, baby,” Cora’s saying. “Let me see.” Cool hands press against my head. My skin stings as it pulls back together, but it’s a distant pain. The kind which ought to make me scream but oddly doesn’t. “Get us the hell out of here!” my Cousin yells. Her words are barely discernible over the screaming outside. “I need to have a better look at her to assess the situation!”
“What do you think I’m trying to do?” he barks back. A few black shapes dart dangerously close. Karl sends the Hummer across the traffic lanes, cutting off a big rig. It slams on its breaks, skidding until it takes up all lanes of traffic. This small action is just what we need, though. It’s enough to help us escape. Within minutes, the screaming subsides.
Black spots appear before my eyes. Residual blood trickles down, landing on my nose. I wipe it off, staring at it against my fingers. All red and black and polka-dotty. Like ladybugs. “Are these things … coming af … after him, too?”
“What?” Karl asks.
“Canna lose ‘im.” But my own voice begins to fade in my head. “Not ‘gain …”
“Are you okay?” I can barely hear the worry in his voice, even though I know it’s there. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m fiiiiiiine,” I say slowly, each word feeling like it’s stretching out forever. “Don … donya let ‘em get ‘im. Seeeeeee?”
“What … ? Cora. What’s wrong with her?” The words float above me as I sink into the pool below.
“She’s got a concussion, Karl,” Cora says. Her voice is no more than a whisper. “And I can’t do much about it while you’re driving like a madman!”
My head drops below the water line, ending my ability to hear anything else they might have to say about me.
chapter 17
The room I’m in is sterile, beige, fairly dark, and screams crappy motel. “Karl? Cora?”
“I’m here,” Cora says, coming out of the bathroom nearby. “Karl’s making a phone call outside.”
“Where are we?”
“Some motel about fifty miles up the coastline. That man drives like a maniac. How in the hell he got his license, I’ll never know.” I fumble for her hand. She slips it into mine, squeezing soothing comfort. “You had a pretty wicked concussion, but I fixed it while you slept.”
Karl flicks on a light near the door. He smiles tightly and waves his phone around. “Had to call the wife, tell her the details. She’s disappointed she didn’t get to come out and play.”
“Are you serious?” Cora asks, eyes wide.
He shrugs. “My girl likes action.” But he seems happy about this. Proud, even.
“So, those things …” I struggle to sit up. “What happened to them?”
“Don’t know,” he says, setting the phone on the table. “They disappeared after awhile.”
I’m groggy, but I remember what he’d said before. “You said there’d been an attack. What happened? Who was it?”
Karl looks distinctly uncomfortable as he spins his phone around on the table. “Maybe we ought to save this for later.”
I bite my lip so I don’t scream in frustration. “Karl, please! You know how I hate being constantly kept in the dark. Just tell me.”
He takes a breath and straightens in the chair. “Okay, then. It was your father. He was on the way home to pick up some books before heading back to Annar. These … things, whatever they are, tried to kill him, but two Faeries and a Gnome found him mid-attack. They were able to distract the black things long enough for your father to get away. I’m sorry to say the rest didn’t make it.”
My father may be a lousy parent, but he’s still my father. I grip the bedsheets. “Is he okay?”
“Yeah. He’s good. He made it to the portal—hurt, but still functioning. People at the Transit Station found him and took him to the hospital right away.”
“Here?” Cora asks, shifting into Shaman mode.
“No. In Annar. The Shamans there have him all fixed up and knocked out comfortably for the night.”
Her eyes are wide, scared. “Do you think this might have something to do with Chloe?”
“It’s the Guard’s theory. Chloe is a big target. If someone is taking out Magicals, and lately targeting powerful ones, she’s the coup, you know?”
“I haven’t even Ascended,” I protest, as if this will somehow make me less attractive as a victim.
“Doesn’t matter. Right now, you’ve got to be ten times more powerful than the majority of the seated Council. Thus, the need for protection.”
I ask, “Can I talk to my dad?”
“He’s asleep,” Karl says, but it’s done kindly. “It’s best to let him rest.”
“Listen,” Cora says, pointing at the television set playing in the background.
“Sam Reigns is here to present today’s weather forecast. Sam?”
“Yes, thank you, Dick. It’s being advised for everyone to stay indoors for the next couple of hours, as we’ve just had a freak lightning storm over our area. We are cautioning people traveling just south of the Bay Area to watch out, as there have been numerous reports of multiple strikes in that region.”
“Is that her?” Cora asks excitedly.
When Karl says yes, I ask, “Is that who?”
Cora bounces on the bed. “The other Guard! She’s an Elemental. How cool is that? She manipulates the weather!” The weatherman is now showing photos of some of the lightning strikes. “What’s her name again?”
Karl flips the television off. “Giuliana Arancionestella. She’s a good girl, great at her job.”
“So … she found them?” I ask.
Karl tilts his head, studying me carefully. “You mean Kellan and Jonah?”
I nod, completely embarrassed.
“Yeah, she found them.”
I cannot look at him when I ask, “And … are they okay?”
“For the most part,” he says casually. He leans forward, resting his arms against his knees. “Want to tell me why the interest in them? Other than the fact that they’re, in general, babe magnets?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Cora demands.
His smile is sly and unsettling, like he knows something already. “I’m just curious. Chloe’s asking a lot of questions. She wanted me to go back and get them. Or was it singular? Him?” He pretends to search his memory.
I chew on my lower lip, wondering how to address this. “Well, they are … Magicals, too … and if one … I mean, both are targets, then it’d only be … logical? To ask? To make sure he’s … they’re okay …”
He laughs. “Sure. Right. Want to tell me why I got separate phone calls from each of them, asking how you are, ordering me around on how important it is to keep you safe?”
“They did?”
“So I have to ask, is there something
I should know about you and the Whitecombs?”
Cora snorts loudly, giving me a pointed look.
I’m floating in happiness, knowing that they both cared enough to check up on me. “Um … Well. See … it’s like this …”
As I fumble for something to say—anything, really, that might explain the absurd situation I’m finding myself in—Karl’s cell phone rings.
He holds out a finger, tells me to hold my thought, and then answers. “Giules! Talk to me. The Shaman make it out to you yet?”
Whoa—a Shaman?
Karl sighs. “You’re the one assigned to them. It’s not my fault if you can’t rein them in.” He pauses, laughs. “Don’t even try to pin the blame on them working their wares on you. You’ve known them almost all their lives. You’ve got to stop looking into their pretty blue eyes
and …” He pauses again, laughs some more. “Did you tell Jonah that this is what comes from disobeying orders? He’s lucky he only came away with a broken arm.”
A BROKEN ARM? I leap off the bed, sick to my stomach. “Is Jonah okay? In pain?”
Inappropriately amused, Karl winks at me. “Well, Kellan’s not alone with his concussion. Lilywhite got one, too. Granted, it was from smacking her head against the car window, not from rolling off a cliff.”
THIS JUST KEEPS GETTING WORSE. “Off a CLIFF?!”
“By the way,” Karl continues, ignoring me, “don’t go telling the boys about Chloe’s injuries. As far as they know, she’s fine.” He rolls his eyes. “I know. It’s rather entertaining, isn’t it? Considering they’ve only been here in California … what? A week?”
“Man,” Cora whistles. “Who knew that the Guard were gossipmongers?”
“Oh, fine. I’ll talk to him.” Karl sighs. “How’s the arm, J?” He nods, making noncommittal noises for a good minute before saying, “For the ninetieth time, Jonah, no one will get through me. Lilywhite is safe as a kitten tonight.” He hm-hm’s. “No, you may not come here tonight. Why do I have to keep repeating this? Did you smack your head, too? ” He then groans. “Oh, for gods’ sakes. I refuse to argue this point with you any further. Let the poor girl sleep, she’s had a rough day. Put Giules back on, why don’t you.”
I’m buzzing despite the head pain. Jonah’s asking about me. He’s concerned. Worried! He wants to see me! But wait—his arm … I hope he’s not in pain. Is he in pain? I should be there. How can I get there?