The Eighth Day

by Salerni, Dianne K.

  “What did he do?”

  “Wylit’s a slippery one, Jax. My father failed to catch him, and so did the Morgans, the Dulacs, and every other clan that tried. But your dad hooked up with them somehow—worked for Wylit’s vassals and then helped me plant a spy among them. That’s what I got out of the deal, and I swear, I’ve been trying to do right by you ever since.”

  “Then tell me where you went this week,” Jax said.

  Riley sighed. “To convince a pair of Kin men to move from the place where they’ve been hiding for the past forty years. I had warning their location had been discovered and Wylit’s vassals were coming for them. But you read that on my phone, didn’t you?”

  “The weapons were in case the other guys got there first?”

  “Mostly. But these Kin of the Taliesin clan are the ones who hid Evangeline and probably know where the rest of her family is. They’ve sort of been allies with our side all along, but they’ve never been what you’d call friendly. If they weren’t willing to cooperate or if they were able to resist my commands, things could’ve gotten . . . rough.”

  “You didn’t—”

  “No, we didn’t,” Riley said. “Deidre suggested moving them to her college campus, where she could guarantee there were no Kin and no Transitioners other than herself present. They agreed.”

  Jax frowned. “Is Evangeline safe now?”

  Riley ran a hand through his hair. “I’m not satisfied. I want to look for another hiding place. Then I’ll have to convince her to move. And you realize, Jax—I’ll move, too. I go where she goes.”

  “What about me?”

  “Nothing’s changed. I want to put you back with your relatives.”

  Jax hurled his dagger into his textbook again. Riley jumped off the desk, startled. “You’re wrong,” Jax said. “I’ve changed.”

  On Saturday morning, Jax took a long bike ride. He used his own bike. He’d left the stolen one at the local police station on Grunsday evening with the address of the owner attached. Sorry, he’d written on the note.

  Riley had no idea Jax had been kidnapped. Jax had made it to his lesson with Melinda on time, and no one except Evangeline knew he’d been gone at all. And she clearly wouldn’t be telling anyone.

  Pedaling aimlessly through town, Jax tried to figure out what he wanted to do now. Mostly, he kept thinking of the things he didn’t want to do.

  He didn’t want to live with Naomi anymore. Living among Normals no longer seemed as safe as it used to. When Terrance abducted Jax, it had been Riley and the Crandalls he hoped would save him, and the Donovans who actually did.

  He didn’t want to swear loyalty to Riley, either. Jax had grown to like him better and admitted there might even be things to admire in him. However, Jax didn’t want to be part of Riley’s “chain of command.”

  Finally, he didn’t want to give up on Evangeline. He’d never met anyone who needed a friend more than she did, whether it hurt or not. If Riley was going to move her, Jax wanted to go too. If she had to be imprisoned for her own safety, then darn it, Jax wanted to make sure she had at least one other person to talk to. The question was whether Riley would let him come, if Jax wasn’t one of his vassals. He apparently confided in Deidre, and she wasn’t a vassal. But she had other talents Riley valued.

  Jax grinned, leaned back on his seat, and let the bike coast.

  Jax had a talent, too.

  That afternoon, he made a list of the requirements for a “safe house” for Evangeline and had a very good idea. What if they hid her in a boarding school? She liked books. Well, she could have a whole library for herself. And if she hated her eighties clothing, she could “borrow” more modern ones from other girls. Missing food would be blamed on the students, and what school wouldn’t love to have a resident ghost? From the little Jax knew about Evangeline, he couldn’t think of any circumstances for hiding her she’d find more tolerable.

  Well, besides coming out of hiding altogether, of course.

  He sat down in front of the computer, laid his dagger beside the keyboard, and whispered one of Melinda’s meditation chants to harness his talent. By the time Riley came home from work, Jax hoped to have a list of schools and a well-thought-out argument to counter any objections.

  He was only beginning his search when the front door opened and Michael Donovan walked in.

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  27

  JAX STOOD UP so fast, he knocked the chair over. “What’re you doing here?”

  “Is that any way to greet a friend?” Donovan asked cheerfully, setting a pet carrier on the coffee table.

  “How’d you find me?”

  “Smelled you out, boy!” Donovan grinned. “I knew you didn’t live where we left you. We just sniffed around the neighboring towns till we found you. How else was I going to deliver your eighth-day cat?”

  Sniffed? Like dogs? Jax stared at the man, aghast, then bent down and peered inside the cat carrier.

  It was empty.

  “Well, it’s not there now,” said Donovan. “Won’t be back till the eighth day.”

  Just as Jax opened his mouth to ask how dumb Donovan thought he was, his phone rang. Oh, no! Jax knew who it was before he picked up the phone. “Yeah?”

  “Melinda called,” said Riley. “We’ve got Transitioners in town. I’m on my way, and so is A.J.’s mom.” Jax stared across the room at Donovan, and Riley demanded, “Jax, do you hear me?”

  “Yeah,” was all Jax could say.

  “It’s probably nothing—people passing through who don’t know we’re here. But if you see anybody, you run. You hear me?” The sound of the motorcycle drowned out Riley’s voice.

  Jax thumbed the phone off. “You have to get out of here.”

  Donovan’s grin never wavered. “But we haven’t discussed a price for the cat.”

  Jax picked up the carrier and tossed it at him. “I mean it! People are coming, and they won’t be happy to see you.” If Riley found this man in the house, he might make his first kill after all. And it would probably be Jax.

  “Smells like somebody important lives here, Dad. No relation of his, though.”

  Jax gasped to see Thomas walk down the stairs from the second floor. “How’d you get in here? What were you doing upstairs?” Then, with greater alarm: “Where’s Tegan?”

  “Takin’ a look outside.” Thomas sauntered into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door. “Got anything to eat?”

  Jax chased after him and, spotting the kitty jar on the kitchen counter, had an inspiration. “Here’s cash.” He pulled out a wad of crumpled bills and shoved it at Thomas. “Take your ‘cat’ and get out of this house! Get out of this town!”

  “Not a nice welcome for people who saved your life,” Donovan commented.

  “I’m trying to save your lives now!” Jax sprinted through the house and out the front door to see what Tegan was up to.

  He found her standing in the yard, sniffing the air. “Tegan!” He grabbed her by the arm. “You guys set off a security shield, and people are coming. You have to leave quickly!”

  Her eyes narrowed. “A security shield?”

  The squeal of tires a block away made them both turn around. Michael and Thomas were just leaving the house, Thomas counting the cash and Michael holding the cat carrier under his arm. “Scatter,” Tegan said.

  Jax had been shouting at them for the last minute and a half, but Tegan’s one word sent them running. Thomas scrambled over the fence at the back of the property, while his father made a sharp left turn, crossed the street, and walked between two neighbors’ houses. When Jax turned around, Tegan was gone.

  Mrs. Crandall’s car jumped the curb pulling in front of Riley’s house. The driver’s door flew open, and Mrs. Crandall climbed out. She stalked toward Jax, looking left and right. Mr. Blum, who was fertilizing his lawn, eyed her curi
ously.

  “See anybody, Jax?” Mrs. Crandall called out.

  Jax remembered her talent. “No strangers.” That was the literal truth. She gave him a sharp look, but the approach of Riley’s motorcycle distracted her. She lifted an arm and drew a circle in the air with her finger. Riley acknowledged by raising a hand, then turned off to circle the block. Mrs. Crandall turned off the ignition in her car. “Wait inside, Jax.”

  Jax returned to the house and released his breath in a gush. Was the Donovan talent smelling people out? That was disgusting! And what had Thomas been doing upstairs? Jax took the stairs two at a time. At the back of the second floor, he found a window open, and when he stuck his head out, he saw the shed directly below. Well, that’s how he got in. Jax shoved the window closed and locked it.

  He took a look around Riley’s room, but there was no way for Jax to tell if anything was missing. On his way out, he glanced at the photograph of the girl tucked into Riley’s mirror. Is that his dead sister? With that reminder of what was at stake, Jax went downstairs to wait.

  Later, Jax looked Riley straight in the eye and said, “I went out to look around and didn’t see anybody who didn’t belong here. Then Mrs. Crandall drove up, and she told me to stay inside.”

  He braced for Riley’s command: I order you to tell me the truth. But it didn’t come. “Melinda says these people have passed through her net before. She thinks they might be loners who live not far from here and occasionally shop at the Walmart or get off the highway for gas.”

  Jax barely kept his mouth from dropping open. Of course Melinda had detected the Donovans before. They probably lived only ten miles away. Jax could have mentioned them at any time after discovering he had classmates who were Transitioners, and Riley wouldn’t have been surprised. He wouldn’t have had to say a word about being kidnapped.

  But he hadn’t mentioned them to Riley, and now he’d told an outright lie. If he changed his story and confessed, Riley would lose all trust in him. And if Riley didn’t trust him, he wouldn’t take Jax with him when he moved Evangeline. Jax would end up back at Naomi’s, living every Grunsday by himself.

  He was going to have to stick with his lie and hope he’d seen the last of the Donovans. He’d given them money, which was all they cared about. There was no reason for them to come back to this house. Jax had nothing more to offer.

  “So we’re good?” he asked in what he hoped was an innocent voice.

  “I guess so,” Riley said, as if trying to convince himself, but he still looked worried. “Doesn’t hurt to be cautious, though.”

  Riley called in sick to work on Monday to keep a watch on the house next door and almost lost his job for taking another day off. He didn’t exactly command his boss not to fire him, but Jax heard him say over the phone, “Have a little sympathy.” Jax shivered. As Melinda had predicted, he was getting a feel for when Riley was using his talent.

  Jax went to school for his final exams. To his relief, the Donovans didn’t turn up.

  “Maybe they moved,” one of the kids said.

  “I hope they enjoy repeating seventh grade in their new school,” Miss Cassidy grumbled. But when she picked the blank test off Tegan’s desk, Jax heard her add, “It’s a shame. She had potential.”

  That evening the doorbell rang, and Jax froze, picturing the Donovan trio and possibly their cat carrier. When Riley opened the door to Mr. and Mrs. Crandall instead, Jax felt light-headed with relief. Riley, however, looked grim.

  Mr. Crandall cleared his throat. “We request a formal audience.”

  “Yeah, I was expecting this.” Riley held the door open wide.

  Rather stiffly, the Crandalls each produced their honor blades and laid them on the coffee table before sitting on the sofa. For a moment, Jax thought they were withdrawing their allegiance, but when Riley laid his knife beside theirs, Jax decided it was some weird ritual. Okay, he could play along. He laid his dagger on the table as well. Mrs. Crandall gave him a nod of approval.

  Mr. Crandall cleared his throat. “Yesterday,” he began.

  “Was a false alarm,” Riley finished.

  “We were unprepared and undermanned.”

  “It was a false alarm,” Riley repeated. “Just some random Transitioners. And I spoke to Miller. He’s heard nothing.”

  “Miller may not know everything,” Mrs. Crandall said. “And Arnie’s right. We didn’t have enough people to cover this house.”

  “I was here within three minutes of Melinda’s call.”

  “A lot can happen in three minutes,” Mr. Crandall said. “And you always assume she’ll be the target, but it could just as easily be you.”

  “It’s not your fault, Riley,” Mrs. Crandall assured him. “You have to go to work. We all have to work and pay the bills. The problem is there’s too few of us.”

  “You’re not just our liege lord. You’re like a son to us. Which is why we want to ask you if you’ve considered the Morgans’ offer. They’ve shielded you from the Dulacs all these years, never letting on that you were still alive, and you know it’s because they always expected you and Deidre to end up together.”

  “But they’re wrong,” Riley said quietly. “I have no interest in getting engaged to Deidre.”

  Jax sucked in his breath. Riley—get engaged to marry the heavily armed Deidre? The first time Riley forgot to bring home groceries, she’d shoot him!

  “A family connection wouldn’t be enough to satisfy Deidre’s mother, anyway,” Riley went on. “Sheila Morgan’s going to expect me to swear my loyalty to her. I’d have to turn over my vassals. Is that what you want, Arnie, to serve the Morgans?”

  “You know I don’t,” Mr. Crandall said stiffly, “but I also don’t want to see you killed trying to protect the Emrys girl. The Morgans have the organization, the weaponry, and the manpower to do this job right. And they could protect you. You could come out of hiding.”

  “I don’t want their protection.”

  “Riley—”

  “Deidre and I have been friends since we were kids. Our families have been allies since the beginning. If that’s not good enough for the Morgans, I’ll make do without their help.” Riley picked up his honor blade and stabbed it directly into the coffee table. The Crandalls fell silent. “We stick to the plan: find a safe house for Evangeline Emrys and move her there. That’s it.”

  UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

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  28

  ON GRUNSDAY, Jax awoke knowing Evangeline was present next door and he was supposed to leave her alone. “Should we hook up her generator anyway?” he asked Riley, handing him the information on boarding schools he’d compiled.

  “No.” Riley scanned the pages. Surprisingly, he’d liked Jax’s idea. “She’s fine. We’re going to have to uproot her next Grunsday. Let’s not make her mad at us today.”

  Jax nodded reluctantly. He hated knowing she was alone over there, but he was anxious to see her moved. The Donovans were probably long gone, especially if Terrance had given the police their descriptions. Jax didn’t expect them to come back, but the sooner he, Riley, and Evangeline were out of here, the better.

  That afternoon at Jax’s weekly lesson, Melinda wanted to work on his mental defenses. “Defend against my talent,” she instructed him.

  “But you can’t—” Jax paused, not wanting to insult her. Melinda was a sensitive. She couldn’t do anything to him.

  “You’re feeling guilty,” Melinda said. “Over something you did wrong and lied about.”

  Jax realized she was reading his emotions as easily as looking through a book. Instinctively, he slammed the book closed on her.

  Melinda smiled. “That’s more like it. Let’s try that again.”

  Defending his mind against this gentle woman was harder than he could have guessed, but Jax rose to the challenge. He was afraid of what she might see in him.

  �
�You’re strong for someone so recently turned,” Melinda said when he flopped over on her couch, feeling wrung out like an old sponge. She rumpled his hair fondly. “Your father would’ve been proud of you.”

  Really? It was still hard to reconcile his dad with all of this. “So, he could do what I do?” Jax asked.

  “Talent is inherited just like eye and hair color. That said, talents usually run stronger in one gender than another. Female sensitives are more talented than males, and the reverse is true for inquisitors. But you can get your talent from either parent.”

  Jax looked at his wrist. “You need the right mark for it to work, though.”

  “We don’t mark our children until they demonstrate a hint of talent. Or, we take them to a sensitive who can read talent. In your case, you only had one Transitioner parent. Riley and A.J. knew how to mark you.”

  “So your kids will all be sensitives,” Jax concluded. “Like you.”

  “If they transition at all.” She sighed. “There’s a burden in this life that will rob them of their innocence. Riley grew up alone, trying to guard that girl and worrying about his vassals, even though we were the adults. He refused to live in the same house with the Crandalls because he was afraid of getting them killed. And we all uprooted our lives to move here after his family was assassinated—to help hide him and the girl—away from other Transitioner clans and everyone we used to know. To be honest, I hope my children take after their father and never need to learn about magic or the eighth day.”

  Jax wondered if his father had felt the same way. He turned his honor blade over and over in his hands, thinking about it. “If it’s so important to carry your blade,” he asked suddenly, “why didn’t I ever see my father wearing this one?”

  “A lot of Transitioners prefer to conceal them. It alarms Normals, seeing somebody walk around with a dagger. You’ve never noticed mine, have you?” Melinda ran her hand down the leg of her jeans, revealing the outline of a sheath beneath the denim.

  But Jax shook his head. “Riley said Dad knew he was in danger. So if your dagger can make your magic stronger, why didn’t he have it with him when he . . . ?”