by Amira Rain
Just on the off-chance that this was really the case, I wondered if I should ask Johnathan who I should choose to begin a relationship with. Quack once for Jake, Johnathan, I thought. Quack twice for Paul.
The next day, after a terrible night’s sleep, I agonized during my shift at the creamery, just trying to listen to my gut and my heart. However, my gut and my heart kept telling me that I was in love with two different guys equally. As far as what my brain was telling me, I wasn’t exactly sure, but it was at least periodically urging me not to leave the freezer door open yet again. Making the creamery’s stock of frozen pies and ice cream cakes begin to thaw, I’d left the freezer door open at least three times by the time I ended my shift at six in the evening.
Walking home, I came across Mel, who told me that there’d been several serious Warren attacks just outside the farm that day. Immediately worried, I asked her if everyone was okay, and she said yes.
“Some kind of major trouble is brewing, though…and I think it was even before the attacks.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, Matt and I talked to your dad a few hours ago, and he seemed really upset about something, and he said that he’s having a meeting at the house at seven o’ clock. Family members and council members only. No newcomers.”
“Well, what is the meeting about?”
Mel shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. All I know is that Matt and I intend to be there right at seven, because whatever is going on, we want to know right away if it’s some kind of a threat that will affect the kids.”
She and I soon parted ways after I said that I’d be there right at seven, too.
I ran the rest of the way home. Carol and Mark were in the kitchen, and I asked them if they knew what was going on, but they said no.
Mark actually said that he had no clue. “We were just told that your dad wants a meeting in the dining room at seven sharp. No newcomers. Just family members and council members.”
Growing increasingly agitated about not knowing what was going on, I all but flew upstairs, took a quick shower, and then got dressed. Blow-drying my hair, I got the feeling that whatever had upset my dad so much, it had to be something to do with the Warrens. Maybe he’d heard plans of a large-scale attack, I figured. Maybe he’d gotten word that the Warrens soon planned to hurt my mom, me, or my little brothers, just like they’d always wanted to do. However, even if one of these things were the case, this didn’t explain why my dad had insisted that no newcomers be present at the meeting. And now that I was really thinking about it, this was the part that had me most agitated.
I cruised into the packed dining room a full five minutes before seven and took a seat beside Jen, who told me that everyone was already present. Somewhat to my embarrassment, I’d been the last one out of thirty-something people to arrive to the meeting, and I had the feeling that everyone had been waiting for me.
My dad, at least, had been waiting for me, because not ten seconds after I’d slid into my spot next to Jen, he called the meeting to order from his seat at the head of the main table, thanking everyone for coming. While everyone hushed, he then fell silent for a long moment or two, frowning with his gaze on the table, before lifting his face and speaking in a somber voice.
“Family, friends, and council members…I don’t want to alarm anyone. However, I need to tell you all the truth. Here, on the farm, which is supposed to be our sanctuary, we have a Warren spy in our midst.”
CHAPTER 17
When my dad said that there was a Warren spy on the farm, a collective gasp rose from everyone present in the dining room. Beside me, Jen even startled as well, grabbing the sides of her chair as if to help give her support during the shock.
A council member named Peter called out, asking my dad who the spy was.
Clenching his jaw, as if he was loathed to answer, my dad hesitated for a moment before doing so. “I don’t know…but it’s definitely one of the newcomers to this farm.”
Jen suddenly piped up. “Well, it’s not Johnathan. He’s not a vampire shapeshifter in duck form or anything like that. And I don’t have any proof about this, but…just trust me. A mother knows her own son.”
With his nostrils flaring a bit, my dad heaved a sigh. Several people rolled their eyes, looking at Jen, and several other people stifled groans. Sitting across from us, facing us, Mel looked at Jen while making a motion with her fingers as if to zip her mouth shut, clearly implying that Jen should do the same. In response, Jen mouthed the word what, shrugging, as if she really couldn’t imagine what she might have done wrong. However, she didn’t say anything else about Johnathan, and my dad began speaking again, drawing everyone’s gazes back to himself.
“As far as how I learned about the spy, I don’t want to reveal every single detail about that, at least not right now, and not to everyone. However, I will tell you all the basics. I had a contact in one of the roving Warren covens in the country…a spy of sorts, working for me. I received a communication from him earlier today, informing me that one of the Warren covens has placed a spy of their own here on the farm. My contact is now dead, and as to how that happened, I don’t want to get into that, mostly because it has nothing to do with the matter at hand. I will say, though, that from what I’ve been able to gather, my contact died without having his true identity as a spy revealed. So, I don’t believe that the Warrens know that we know that we also have a spy in our midst.”
Sitting a few seats down from Hayden, Carol piped up, asking if my dad’s contact had been able to give any clues as to the identity of the spy on the farm.
My dad said no, very unfortunately. “If my contact knew, which I don’t think he did, I don’t think he felt at liberty to tell me in the communication he sent me. My contact did, however, say he was certain that the spy recently entered the farm via the wave of newcomers, because this is what he had heard, and he did refer to the spy with the pronoun he; so, we know he’s a male.”
My dad fell silent, and Mark asked what the “game plan” was for determining who the spy was.
My dad said we had no other option than to watch and wait. “I think we’re going to be able to eventually determine who the spy is simply by closely observing the behavior of all male newcomers. Who makes a lot of private phone calls? Who falls back and doesn’t take part when the Warrens attack and we’re fighting them? Who leaves the farm for ‘hunting trips’ alone? Who seems ill at ease, or reluctant, when talking about their past? Who seems just a little bit ‘off’ in some indefinable way? I think that within time, the answers to these questions will help us. In the meantime, I’m going to review the backgrounds of all male newcomers. As you all know, I, along with a few of you council members, personally and carefully vetted all newcomers, corroborating personal details with our various vampire allies whenever possible. However, it’s not at all outside the realm of possibility that one of the newcomers very cleverly and expertly invented a fake identity that somehow passed our ‘sniff test.’ In fact, now it’s obvious that one of the newcomers did.” Steepling his hands together on the table, my dad paused to take a deep breath before continuing. “Now, obviously, we don’t want to tip off the spy that we’re aware of him. So, as far as this meeting tonight, the story is going to be that this was a private meeting for the purpose of discussing how well the newcomers are adjusting to our community, and how well we’re adjusting to them. We’ll continue having these meetings every two weeks, indefinitely, until the spy is caught, and it’s at these meetings that I want you all to share your observations about all male newcomers. If anything jumps out to any of you between meetings, or if any of you think you have solid evidence as to the identity of the spy, I want you to come to me personally, and we’ll talk. As far as informing the rest of us non-newcomer Watchers here on the farm about this situation, I’m going to have a second meeting here in about an hour. And again, this meeting will be held under the guise of me wanting to talk with everyone about how well the newcomers are adjusting
, and how well we’re adjusting to them. To make this ruse seem even more real, I’m also going to hold meetings every two weeks with all the newcomers themselves, so as to give them a chance to discuss any concerns that they might have in regard to how well they’re acclimating to the community. Does this all make sense to everyone, and does everyone understand what we’re all supposed to say these meetings are for?”
Everyone nodded or murmured yes, and my dad said good.
“Now, this is maybe the most crucial thing, especially since some of you have become friends with the newcomers, or have begun romantic relationships with them. I don’t want any newcomer, male or female, no matter how trustworthy they may seem, to be told anything about the spy, or anything that is said at these meetings, and I want to be crystal clear about this. None of you are to say anything about all this to any newcomer. Furthermore, when discussing this situation among yourselves, I want you all to be aware that there might be very stealthy listening ears around. Because of this, I’d almost prefer if this situation wasn’t discussed at all outside of these meetings, when I have some of my most trusted guards patrolling outside. However, realistically, I know that some of you are going to feel inclined to want to talk about this among yourselves anyway; so, all I ask is that you do so only in complete privacy, and in very hushed tones. Also make sure that the communication is necessary and brief.”
Beside me, Jen piped up. “So, basically, no one should be just hanging out at the creamery, just shooting the breeze about the spy with anyone who happens to walk by.”
My dad said yes, exactly, seeming pleased that Jen clearly understood.
Probably making him even happier, she clarified further. “So, also basically, say someone thinks they’ve noticed something weird, or say they think they’ve just happened to see some proof or something about who the spy is. That person should only speak to ‘original’ Watchers, meaning all of us who’ve lived here forever, and the person should only say what they have to say in complete private, when no one else is around. Right?”
My dad said right. “Although, ideally, people will come and talk to me first, but if a person absolutely must discuss something with a friend or family member, then, yes. It should be done in complete privacy; the communication should be brief; and it should be whispered or spoken in a very low voice.”
Jen said okay. “I won’t even talk to any of the ducks about this, then, because who knows who could be around, eavesdropping. I’ve had quite a few newcomers coming near the pond lately, and who knows why they’re doing it.”
I was pretty sure that some of them had been stopping by simply to see the strange sight of a human girl swimming in a muck-filled pond while being followed by ducks as if she was their mother, although I wasn’t about to say this to Jen.
After asking if anyone had any questions, my dad soon adjourned the meeting, and the house slowly emptied out. When only people who actually lived in the house remained, my dad guided me into the sunroom with an arm around my shoulders, telling me that he wanted to talk to me alone for a second. Having a seat in one of two white wicker chairs, I had a pretty good idea about what he wanted to talk to me about; so, I wasn’t really surprised when he had a seat beside me and spoke two names.
“Jake and Paul. Chrissy, I know you care for them both, and I know you’ve become close to them both. You can’t tell either of them anything about what we talked about here tonight at the meeting, though. You can’t trust either of them.”
“But I do trust them both.”
“You can’t, though. Not until we know who the spy is. It could be either one of them.”
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “It’s not. I know Jake and Paul, Dad. Neither one of them is the spy.”
“You don’t know that, though. You can’t possibly. You know, most spies are spies for a reason. It’s because most of them are able to blend in, and conceal their identity. Most of them turn out to be the person you’d never expect.”
Knowing that he was right, but just not wanting to admit it right then, I said nothing; and after a few moments, my dad continued.
“I just want a promise from you, Chrissy. I just want you to promise me that no matter how you feel, and no matter how much you think you can trust Jake and Paul, you won’t say anything to either of them about the spy. I need you to promise me this.”
I thought for a long moment, sighing, and then grudgingly looked at my dad. “I promise. I won’t say anything to Jake and Paul. You have my word.”
“Good.”
“I think you might feel a little silly for even remotely suspecting either of them could possibly be the spy, though, once it comes out who the spy really is.”
My dad shrugged. “I hope I do. I hope I do feel a little silly for even remotely suspecting them.”
My dad soon had to take a phone call and left the sunroom. I looked out the wide row of windows at the sinking sun, an orange ball of flame in a pale pink sky, almost wanting to laugh at the mere thought of either Jake or Paul being the spy. That’s completely ridiculous, because I trust them both completely, I thought, having no idea just how soon that trust would be shattered.
CHAPTER 18
A week or so went by. And, keeping my word to my dad, I didn’t say anything to Jake or Paul about the spy. This was because not only did I fully intend to keep my word to my dad no matter what, but I also had a bigger problem having nothing to do with the spy situation. This problem was that I’d fallen hopelessly in love with both Jake and Paul. And I had no idea how I was ever going to be able to let one of them go, despite the fact that they’d both begun to express a little impatience at my inability to make a decision, maybe Jake more so than Paul.
In addition to this huge problem, I developed another problem around this time, which was that I began to get a little paranoid, the way I saw it. I thought this because every so often, just for a moment, I was beginning to have funny little suspicions about Paul and Jake.
I still trusted them both completely, I told myself. The problem was all mine. I was just being paranoid. That was all. Maybe Jen’s occasional paranoia is just starting to rub off on me, I thought a few times.
My first flash of this paranoia happened when Jake went off on a daylong hunting trip by himself, and I thought about what my dad had said about us Watchers needing to be aware when people did this. Knowing that my dad was surely aware himself, I said nothing to him, and when Jake returned from his trip, he acted perfectly normal. This acting perfectly normal then caused me to have another flash of suspicion about him, just because my dad had said that the spy would likely turn out to be someone that no one expected.
There was also the fact that Jake’s last name was actually Warren. The first day we’d met, he’d told me that this was purely an unfortunate coincidence, and that he was no relation to the Warrens, and I believed him. However, maybe I didn’t believe him a hundred percent, or I did but just needed a little confirmation of this belief, because I asked my dad one day if he’d thoroughly vetted Jake’s family history.
My dad said he definitely had. “I traced his family just about back to the Mayflower. His father was a Warren who originally came from Illinois, and all his forefathers lived in Illinois for a hundred-some-odd years. Census records indicate that they all lived normal lifespans, meaning that none of them were vampires, and as for Jake’s father himself, I tracked him down to a correctional facility in Nevada. So, he can’t possibly be a vampire, either, or else I assume he would have broken out by now. I also researched offshoots of Jake’s family tree…aunts, uncles, distant cousins and the like…and everyone checked out, making me confident that Jake, like thousands of other Americans, truly has no connection to the Warrens, and instead just has the misfortune of sharing the same name.”
“Well, that is what he told me, and I guess I shouldn’t have doubted him even a tiny bit, even for a second. Not when he’s given me no reason to. He told me once that he’s never even met a Warren vampire. The vampire
who turned him sounded like a pretty bad guy, and he might have been up to some illegal stuff, but he supposedly wasn’t a Warren, at least as far as Jake knew.”
My dad confirmed that he wasn’t. “I vetted everyone’s ‘turning’ stories, too, at least as best I could, and Jake’s completely checked out. The vampire who turned him is a small-time criminal in Indianapolis, and a few Watchers had to rein him in for some activities a few years ago, but he’s not a Warren. In fact, like Jake, he seems to have never had any contact with them, either.”
Just as soon as my dad had put my mind at ease, Jen reversed that. I went out to visit her at the pond, and she asked what my dad and I had been talking about, having seen us together out on the back patio. I told her, and she snorted, standing in the shallows of the pond with scummy water up to her knees.
“Your dad may have vetted Jake, but he doesn’t know everything about him. No one does. This is because he’s hiding something.”
Getting a bit sick of Jen thinking this and saying this, I sighed. “Look. Aren’t we all hiding something, on some level?”
Jen shook her head. “Nope. Not me. I’m pretty much an open book.”
I sighed again. “Well, everyone isn’t. Some people like to keep a few things hidden, whether that’s out of embarrassment, or because of trauma, or just because a person is entitled to a few personal memories or thoughts. I suspect this is the case with Jake, because he did have a difficult childhood. However, this doesn’t mean that he’s hiding anything nefarious.”
“I absolutely don’t know what that word means, but I stand by what I told you the very first day all the newcomers arrived. Jake and Paul are both hiding something, and whatever each of them are hiding, it’s nothing good. In fact, I already told your dad that the spy has almost got to be one of them. None of the other newcomers gives me the same funny feeling when I look them in the eye.”
“Well, just because you have a ‘feeling,’ that doesn’t mean—”