by Cecily White
“Okay, what just happened?” I whispered, certain that anything louder than a whisper would shatter my eardrums. I was wrong. Even if I had screamed, the words wouldn’t have made it more than a few inches in front of my face. They disappeared as I said them, sucked into oblivion.
Jack’s hand still rested at my shoulder. He tightened it now. “Don’t move,” he said.
The cadence of his voice suggested yelling though I could barely hear him. His arms threaded snugly around me, tugging me against the firm lines of his chest.
“What’s going on?” I said louder.
“Don’t let go of me.”
“Wasn’t planning on it.”
His lips must have been just a few inches away from my ear, but I swear, it sounded as if he was whispering from the end zone of a football field. All noise seemed to evaporate like an early morning fog. With both hands tight around my waist, he started moving toward the place where I remembered the door having been. Maybe. Frankly, I couldn’t tell squat given the sensory deprivation tank the room had become. Jack, thankfully, could. When we’d reached the doorframe, he freed one hand, groping at the wall in search of a doorknob.
With sight and sound gone, the rest of my senses seemed to sharpen into hyper-focus. Jack’s touch was velvet on my arms and he smelled amazing—like shampoo and marshmallows and something uniquely musky. Sunshine, if sunshine had a smell. Sigh, I could die happy now.
Wait, not literally.
Watcher, you are a traitor to the Guardian line. Surrender now, and the girl won’t be harmed.
It was odd how the words seemed to appear in my head, deep and scratchy, like sandpaper. I tiptoed up until my lips brushed Jack’s earlobe. “What is that?”
Jack’s entire abdominal wall tensed as he shouted back, “Ant hill.”
Except he said “ant hill” the way most people said “certain death” or “gushing bloodbath.” Which is why it took me a minute to get that he wasn’t saying “ant hill” at all.
Anakim. The Gray One?
“Seriously?” I asked, trying not to freak out.
“No escape,” he yelled. “It’s okay. Tell Smalley…perceptual vortex. Warded perimeter.”
It’s okay? No, it was definitely not okay! I knew about warded perimeters. We’d studied them junior year so we could understand how the one around our school worked. I’d even drawn a few simple ones myself around my house. But unlike my or St. Michael’s wards, this one wasn’t letting anything through. Not nature or light or sound. Nothing. There would be no call for help, no signal to the outside. If a Graymason was holding it, I probably couldn’t even channel an energy burst. The only reason Jack and I could sense one another at all was because we’d been touching when the barriers went up. Now, I understood why he’d said not to let go of him. If we lost physical contact for even a second, I’d never find him again.
The choice is yours, Son of Gabriel. Surrender, and she goes free, the voice repeated. Fight, and she dies with you.
“Is this part of the test?” I shouted.
I felt Jack shake his head. “Thought you…Gray One…kill me… Not enough time.” He sighed. “Gotta go.”
“Go? With him? Are you deranged?” I yelled, genuinely curious.
Clumps of hair fell into my eyes but I blinked them away blindly. I was too afraid to loosen my hold for even the second it took to brush them back. If this was the end, I couldn’t think of anyplace I’d rather be than in his arms. Lame, I know, but totally true.
My mind flipped through the possibilities for escape. Weapons? None. Emergency beacons? Not likely.
This sucked! I was going to die, and I’d never even been to the beach. Or bowling. Crap, I hadn’t done anything cool!
Panic gripped my heart as Jack’s arms loosened around me, the tips of his fingers sliding up to cup my face.
I clung to him like a barnacle. Granted, we’d had our issues, but if he thought he could push me away now he had another think coming. Not until I felt something brush my lips did I understand.
He wasn’t pushing me away.
Last summer, when Lyle tried to kiss me, it was like kissing an impatient guppy. Clumsy, greedy, and so, so messy. This was none of those things.
It started as a whisper, no more substantial than butterfly wings. At first, I didn’t know how to answer. Then, I realized it didn’t matter. My body knew.
My arms moved up his chest and twined around his neck like vines reaching toward the sun, my lips parting for him. For a second, he froze, and I worried he might pull away. But then his body flexed against mine, his mouth warm and insistent. Suddenly, the kiss stopped being soft and turned hungry. His hands knotted into my hair, pulling me into him like he could consume me. His heart fluttered madly against my chest. Or maybe it was my heart, I couldn’t tell. All I could sense was his body next to mine, and all I could think was…yes.
By the time he pulled away, I felt like I’d been spun in circles and pushed blindfolded down an elevator shaft. Only it wasn’t unpleasant. Because, as empty as the world had become, I found myself seized with irrational fullness. Hope. Faith, even. It would be okay. We would be okay.
I had a plan.
Jack was right about one thing: there wasn’t enough time for binding wards or rescue attempts. But there might be enough time to save us.
Last chance, the voice rasped softly inside my head. Surrender, or die.
My hands tightened around Jack’s waist. “Don’t let go of me.”
“Ami, I have to—”
“Caret initio et fine, ab initio, ad patres.” I began the incantation. The portal flared its answer, weak and hollow, as if it, too, had been sucked dry by the vortex. “Deficit omne quod nasciture.”
As soon as he sensed the channel, Jack lurched away from me. I could feel him trying to pry my grip loose, desperate to stop it.
“Inergio.” I pushed harder at the spell.
Although I couldn’t see it, I knew the portal was there. It throbbed with silent power. I mumbled one last prayer that I had enough strength to protect him, and said the words that Smalley had given me—the words that would change everything.
“Fides via vi, in infinitum.”
With a crack and a whoosh, the world ripped in half, and Jack and I pitched forward. Into nothingness.
Chapter Ten:
While You Were Sleeping
“Miss Bennett, wake up.”
Two rough hands hefted my torso and I felt a tug at the base of my spine. At first, I thought I must be having some strange dream, but I couldn’t quite hang onto the details. Something about a Graymason, and a boy, and a totally epic kiss…
Mmm…kiss. I felt my lips curve into a smile.
Somewhere in the back of my head, a slow, mechanical beep picked up pace. Yes, a kiss. A spine-tingling, toe-curling, life-changing kiss. With Jack.
Images slipped through my mind like water, but the feel of him, all warm and hungry and sweet against my mouth…that I recalled vividly. What an awesome dream. I was about to roll over and return to it when something pungent invaded my senses, like acid up my nose.
“Gak!” I screeched.
A hand slapped over my mouth as my eyes flew open. It took a second to realize the reason I couldn’t see was because I was blindfolded, and the reason the bed didn’t feel like mine was because it wasn’t.
“Whtthfrknghllzzgngnnhrr?”
“Great, you’re awake.”
Daggers of purple fluorescent light stabbed into my retinas as Jack yanked the blindfold over my head. One of his hands stayed clamped over my mouth, while the other ripped medical tape and IV needles off my arms.
“Sorry about the smelling salts, but I needed to talk to you. Nod if you understand.”
After a few confused blinks, I nodded.
“Good. Do you know who I am?”
I rolled my eyes and nodded again.
“Okay, I need you to be very quiet, stay still, and do exactly as I say. Can you do that?”
“Ryuukddng
? Wtthhllddyuddttmeh?”
“I didn’t do anything to you,” he said defensively. “You’re being held prisoner in St. Michael’s infirmary. The reason you can’t move is because you’re in restraints—”
As soon as he said the word “restraints,” a current of fury zipped through me. I tried to lift my arms but leather straps tightened against my wrists like baby anacondas.
“Rruufrkkngnsn?” I yelled into Jack’s hand, which was still glued to my mouth.
He sighed. “What did I just say?”
I flashed him my nastiest look but quit struggling.
“Thank you. Now, I removed the spinal block they had on you, so you should be able to feel your legs again in a minute. It’ll take longer for the anesthetic to get out of your system, but I’m not worried about that. What I am worried about is the huge dose of Otrava they gave you. It’s a poison and I need to get it neutralized before I can take you anywhere. Do you understand?”
I strained silently against the leather straps. Apparently, I was in no position to argue.
Jack reached into the breast pocket of his trench coat that, if we’re being honest, looked like a Spies R Us clearance rack item, and pulled out a black leather pouch with a zipper. I watched as he unzipped it with one hand and extracted the longest, most sinister looking syringe I’d ever seen.
“I’m going to take my hand off your mouth. If you start to yell again, I will sedate you. Got it?”
I hesitated. The dream-that-wasn’t-a-dream still hovered in the back of my head with at least a thousand questions clinging to it.
“Ddyukssmmh?” I asked, carefully.
He frowned. “I prefer to believe you kissed me. If you’d like to apologize I’m happy to hear you out.”
“Pllogze? Whttfrr?”
“I don’t know. Drooling?”
“Gscrwyrrsllf,” I said into his palm.
Jack gave me a warning look before he lifted his hand away. Unfortunately, my head was in way too much of a whirl to take warnings. Yelling seemed the best option.
“Have you completely lost your mind? What did you put in my mouth? It tastes like,” I smacked my lips to get some saliva flowing, “fabric softener. And why am I so hungry? And how dare you imply I kissed you? Now you’ve tied me up and drugged me? My dad is so gonna kckyrrrasswhnhehrrs—”
Jack’s hand came down over my face again.
“Obviously, there were aspects of your field test that didn’t go as planned,” he admitted in a hushed voice. “I’m making an effort to move past it. I suggest you do the same.”
“Unnthkklbstrd!”
He glared at me. “Once we’re out of here, you’re welcome to file an ethics grievance with my superiors. Just remember, I didn’t tie you up, nor did I drug you. Your mouth tastes like fabric softener because the Elders gagged you in case you woke up during the trial. And you’re hungry because it’s Wednesday. They didn’t bother to feed you since they were planning to kill you. Now,” Jack paused, his eyes stern as he gazed into mine, “are you finished?”
Planning to kill you. The words stuck in my head like rubber cement.
Suddenly, the walls around me seemed to loom a bit taller, the locks on the doors a bit thicker. When his hand came off my mouth this time, I hesitated. This was bad. Not flat-soda-on-an-airplane bad. I mean, nuclear winter bad. Call me a romantic, but whenever I’d imagined myself in a bed with Jack there weren’t usually arm restraints and death threats involved.
I shot him a sharp glare, a challenge while wearing Curious George underpants and a puke-colored hospital gown.
“Not that I condone any part of this, but what are you talking about? Who’s on trial? And who wants to kill me?” I squinted at him. “Are you in some kind of trouble?”
Jack quit flicking the syringe long enough to give me a dubious look. “You’re tied to a bed, half-paralyzed, with deadly poison coursing through your veins…and you’re wondering if I’m in trouble?”
“You are, aren’t you?”
“Well, yes,” he conceded. “But not as much as you are. Hold still, this may hurt.”
I bit down on my lip as he slid the needle through the tender skin of my forearm, pulling it back until it was securely lodged in the vein. Then, he depressed the plunger.
Instantly, my arm filled with liquid fire. It felt like someone had funneled a gazillion volts of electricity right into my eyeballs via every nerve ending in my body. I swallowed a scream as he pulled the needle out and slapped his hand back over my mouth.
“Shh,” he said. “This is called a Queller. It’s a metabolic agent for the poison. I know it hurts a little, but you’ll be fine.”
Hurts a little? I was dying, I had to be. There was no way anything so painful could not end in death. I heard muffled screams coming from somewhere in the room, and it took a moment to realize they were mine.
You never really know how you’re going to deal with pain until you’re in the thick of it. It isn’t like the movies where the hero gets trounced then comes back to fight again, pissed off and energized. It was debilitating. Crippling. My body convulsed on the bed, the leather straps around my wrists and ankles rubbing raw welts against my skin.
“Breathe,” he repeated as he stroked my hair with his free hand. “Just breathe.”
Much as I hated him at that moment, I’d be lying if I said his presence didn’t help. Every touch of his fingers filled my mind with texture and color, lifting me out of the pain for a fraction of a second at a time. Sparks skated over my skin, the same golden light that had danced between us Monday morning. Only, this time, it didn’t scare me. It floated over me like a transparent armor, absorbing all the darkness as effectively as a sponge in water.
When the torture finally subsided, Jack pushed my sweaty hair back and stared at my eyes. He was trying to look calm, but his trembling hands told me he wasn’t.
“That’s not so bad, is it?”
I sank back on the pillow, drained but relieved. It was bad. Worse than the time I broke my arm falling off Smalley’s balcony in second grade, and way worse than the time Matt dared me to eat a worm pie and I spent two hours hurling. I had just opened my mouth to say so when a soft click sounded at the infirmary door. The deadbolt slid to the side and Marcus stuck his head through. Normally, when a trainer walks into a room, I might say hello or, if I was busy, I’d ignore him. What I wouldn’t do is whip a gun out of my Kevlar overcoat and point it at his head.
That’s what Jack did.
My breath caught as a soft shink rang out and Marcus crumpled to the floor with a thud. The beep-beep-beep of my heart monitor went wild.
“Calm down, he’s not dead,” Jack said. “Just tranquilized.”
He set down his gun long enough to unfasten my restraints. Maybe it was the drugs, but his hands seemed to leave shiny streaks on my calves as he swung my legs to the side of the bed and helped me get vertical. At least, I think I was vertical. Hard to tell when the room kept flipping over.
“I don’t mean to rush you, but, in a few minutes, this place is going to be crawling with guards, and I’m almost out of tranquilizer darts. Can you walk?”
I wanted to answer him, but my eyes refused to move from the crumpled heap of guy by the door. Marcus looked dead. His body was folded like a napkin, his head lolled forward at an awkward angle. Obviously, I hadn’t read the handbook too carefully, but I didn’t think murdering the trainers was allowed.
“Miss Bennett!” Jack snapped his fingers in front of my face. “Can you walk or do I need to carry you?”
I stared at him blankly, a hollow ringing in my ears. My muscles felt rigid and uncooperative. Cold antiseptic air still burned my nose and everything in my gut screamed at me to run. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t move. Somewhere in the back of my head, I knew that if I started running, I would never stop.
“I’ll carry you.”
“No!” I snapped, glancing past him at the door. “I’m fine. Let’s go.”
That was all Jac
k needed. Without further delay, he took my hand and half-dragged, half-carried me toward the main building. It was odd creeping through the halls in such utter silence. The classroom doors hung open. Even the lockers had a ghostly, abandoned feel. Clearly, Jack had done something to the lights, and it troubled me how unfazed he seemed that we kept stepping over the bodies of fallen guards. I stumbled, but he caught me.
“You okay?”
In silence, I looked at the gun in his hand, then down at a guard with blood trickling out of his ear. I wasn’t okay. “What did you do to these guys?”
“I did what I had to.”
“But why did you have to do anything?” I felt dizzy and oddly light-headed. “You’re not going to hurt me, are you?”
“Only if you annoy me. Now stay back.”
I let him tug me against the wall, his hand huge and calloused around mine. As scared as I was, I knew I’d be dead without him. I just didn’t know why.
“We have to get out of the main hallways. It won’t be long before they figure out we’re gone.”
“Jack, what is this about? Did that vamp girl rat me out for the Rangor?”
He frowned. “The who for what?”
“Okay, so not that,” I said. “You want to give me a hint?”
He whipped his head around to peek through the door to a stairwell and, for a moment, I thought he wasn’t going to answer. When he did, I wished he hadn’t. “Miss Bennett, you’ve been convicted of multiple murders.”
I stared at him, open-mouthed, certain I’d misheard him.
Without looking at me, he extended one arm across my torso, tucking me behind his body. “Don’t look so surprised. There was a trial. The Elders heard the evidence. You’ve been sentenced to die at dawn.”
I blinked as the hallway started to swim. Every clever quip faded on my lips. The wave of nausea hit so hard I could barely remember my name, let alone think of anything to say. Pinpricks of darkness flooded my peripheral vision and the floor began to buck.
“I think I’m going to throw up.”
Instantly, he holstered his gun, looking both ways down the empty corridor. He caught me as I sank and pulled me across the hall into the girls’ bathroom. I let him maneuver me through the dark room to the mirrors, my brain (and stomach) still processing what he’d said. Murder? Multiple murder? Was this some kind of sick joke?