Slayers: Friends and Traitors

by C. J. Hill

  Down on the main floor, Tori glanced around at the people streaming around her. She walked slowly around the elephant exhibit.

  It wouldn’t hurt to see her this once. Maybe twice. Really, what did it matter if they saw each other over the school year? He was allowed to have a life, wasn’t he? And that stuff he’d said about her dating other guys—that clearly had bad idea written all over it. The girl was gorgeous. Other guys should stay as far away from her as possible.

  Jesse walked toward the elevator and then thought of the night the Slayers raided Overdrake’s compound. Jesse had led that mission. After Overdrake trapped them in the compound, Jesse felt … it had been worse than fear, worse than despair, because he knew the failed mission was his fault. He’d been sure he would see his friends die. Knowing that he would die with them didn’t bring him any relief. His death meant no one would be there to stop the dragons when they attacked. His death carried more deaths with it.

  Jesse had to be careful. He had to be unselfish and think about what was good for everyone else.

  Tori had come full circle around the elephant now. A group of kids in matching blue T-shirts streamed around her on their way to one of the halls. How long would she wait for him?

  Jesse took another step to the elevator and another and then was mad at himself because he knew going downstairs was the wrong decision yet was doing it anyway. He couldn’t be objective about Tori. Dr. B was right. Having a relationship was only going to make things more dangerous for both of them.

  He should break up with her—not for the school year, but permanently. Or at least until the dragons were killed. Of course, that would become a permanent breakup, because when Jesse went down there and told Tori they needed to officially end their relationship, she was never going to speak to him again.

  He stopped, leaned against the railing, and watched her. If he could prove to himself he had enough self-control to stay up here, then it meant he had enough self-control to be an objective fighter. He wouldn’t need to break up with her. They could be together next summer. Maybe even after that, when he was at college. He just had to be sure he could master his feelings, keep them in their place.

  Tori walked over to one of the benches at the side of the room. She pulled a book out of her purse and read while she waited. Or maybe she wasn’t really reading. He never saw her flip a page. He stood there, watching her watch the entrance. She waited until twelve thirty, longer than Jesse had expected. Then she got up and walked out the door without looking back.

  Jesse stayed on the second floor for a while longer. He leaned against one of the pillars and let the crowd wash by him. He felt strong, capable of being a captain, and horrible at the same time.

  CHAPTER 8

  THE END OF SEPTEMBER

  Tori’s parents spent the entire ride to the White House lecturing her on etiquette. What she was allowed to say. What she wasn’t. “Thank the president and first lady for inviting you,” her mother said, “and make sure you talk to all of the teenagers there, not just your friends. You don’t want people to think you’re cliquish.”

  Tori sat in the backseat of her family’s Lexus, tapping her newly manicured nails against her armrest. She’d broken all of her nails off at Dragon Camp and still wasn’t used to the acrylic ones. It was one more reminder that life wasn’t the same anymore.

  Tori’s mother turned toward the backseat to make sure Tori was paying attention. Her blonde hair was swept up into a French knot, her makeup immaculate. If Tori had worn the same shade of bright red lipstick, she would have looked trashy. On her mother it looked glamorous. Her mother had a way of making everything work. That was her talent, making all the many things she did look effortless. Reporters could say completely horrible things to her mother, and she would laugh it off and then redirect the conversation to her husband’s positive message for America.

  “Are you listening?” her mother asked.

  “Yes,” Tori said.

  Aprilynne, Tori’s older sister, had her phone out, texting one of the guys who regularly orbited around her. She was obviously not paying attention to the conversation, but then she didn’t have to. Aprilynne hadn’t told a reporter last week that he should get a job that didn’t involve stalking her family. Which Tori probably shouldn’t have done. That was another effect of spending two months training to fight. She didn’t feel like suffering fools anymore.

  The fact that Tori’s father had officially announced his candidacy for the next election only made all of the reporters worse. They lay in wait for her family like piranhas.

  “Whatever you do,” Tori’s father said, sending her a look through the rearview mirror, “be polite to the president.”

  Tori’s father was tall, with the same honey-brown hair and green eyes she’d inherited. Blogs had been written about his green eyes. One magazine had dubbed him the most kissable candidate—which Tori thought was creepy because, hello, strangers were talking about making out with her dad. She didn’t think of her father as handsome, just as dependable, strong, and calm.

  “You don’t have to give me this lecture,” Tori said, tapping her fingernails again. “I’m always polite to the president.”

  Aprilynne let out a snort of laughter.

  Tori rolled her eyes. “Honestly. You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

  Her mother’s voice took on a patient tone. “You posted online that the president wasn’t two-faced, he was dodecahedron-faced.”

  “I was ten,” Tori pointed out. “Most parents would be proud that their ten-year-old knew what dodecahedron meant.”

  “The post went viral,” her mother reminded her. “Reporters were talking about it in China.”

  “I wouldn’t have posted it on Dad’s account if you guys had let me have my own.” Tori smoothed out a wrinkle in her skirt with an air of nonchalance. “Besides, I was only telling the truth. The president acted like Dad’s friend in private, and then told the media Dad wanted to starve old ladies and kick kittens.”

  Aprilynne put her phone away. “And so now the president doesn’t act like Dad’s friend in private. That’s better.”

  Tori fluttered her hand, waving away her sister’s words. “Big loss. Who wants to be friends with President Dodecahedron-face?”

  “Victoria”—her dad said her name with equal parts pleading and warning—“be on your best behavior.”

  “I will,” Tori said. Really, her parents didn’t need to look so worried. She had seen the president a dozen times since that event. Christmas parties, senate family parties, and the occasional times like this one where the president was trying to schmooze big business leaders.

  Unless you counted the time when Tori was eleven and threw an Easter egg at the White House—and okay, she’d also thrown one at an especially surly secret service agent—she had always behaved beyond reproach. And in Tori’s defense, the agent had been standing so far away, she didn’t expect to actually hit him. She hadn’t realized back then how accurate her aim was becoming.

  “Good,” her mother said. “The last thing we need is some sort of incident while the president is around.”

  The car stopped at the guard station in front of the White House. A marine strolled up to the car, checked her father’s papers, and took an account of everyone inside the car. Another marine with a German shepherd sniffed around the outside of the car. When the guards were assured that they weren’t smuggling terrorists inside, they waved the car through.

  A few minutes later, Tori’s family walked into the White House. Tori had been here before, and she’d certainly been in enough mansions and historic homes that she shouldn’t have felt awed. She always did, though. The colonnades, sweeping grounds, the portraits of presidents in the hallways—the whole place was saturated with history. John Adams, Thomas Jefferson, and Abraham Lincoln had walked these halls. Dolly Madison hung out her laundry here. How could Tori not be impressed with the White House?

  When her family got to the Ea
st Ballroom, they took their spot at the end of the reception line. From the looks of it, it would be twenty minutes before they could greet the president, pose for the obligatory photo, and go mingle with the other guests. A couple hundred people milled around underneath the ornate crystal chandeliers. Women confident in their silk dresses and pearls. Men exuding power in crisp designer suits. The whole room smelled of expensive perfume.

  Tori wished she could skip the line altogether and find some friends. She didn’t suggest it. Her mother would only point out that they couldn’t appear to be snubbing the president—not since the dodecahedron incident.

  You would think the leader of the free world would get over an insult from a ten-year-old, even if it had made the news when it happened. But no. He always found some subtle way to remind her about it. Last year he asked her if she was taking geometry in school. When she told him she was, he said, “I’m sure you’ll do well. You’ve got your shapes down pat.”

  The president’s son, Clint, made the whole thing more awkward. He was Tori’s age and always went to the same private schools. When she and Clint were thrown together, he usually found some way to give her grief. He had been the catalyst of the whole Easter egg–throwing spree. Of course, he didn’t admit it when a herd of angry secret servicemen descended on them, weapons at the ready. No. He was just an innocent bystander and not the boy who bet her twenty dollars she couldn’t hit the presidential seal on the balcony. And he never paid up, either. The deadbeat.

  Tori was probably the only child in the history of White House Easter egg hunts to be publicly chastised by the Easter Bunny.

  She glanced around the room. Clint stood by Penny, a senator’s daughter, who went to their high school. Tori usually hung out with her at these functions, but if Penny was going to stand around flirting with Clint, Tori would find someone else.

  Maybe Clint was kind of good looking if you were into skinny guys with hawkish features, but really, the way he acted you would think he was the president and not his father.

  The chatter in the room seemed especially noisy and intense. Tori wished she could put in some earbuds and listen to music instead. Her parents probably wouldn’t consider that respectful behavior while waiting to greet the president.

  Tori had always had good hearing. It was, she realized now, part of her Slayer abilities. She not only heard what the dragon heard, she heard everything better. The skill came in handy if she wanted to eavesdrop, but being in noisy crowds like this could be overwhelming. She had to concentrate in order to follow one conversation and keep the rest from twisting into her attention. The fact that she also had to deal with Overdrake’s playlist going in her mind didn’t help matters.

  As she looked around for someone to hang out with, she heard a song she liked. That was a nice change. Someone in Overdrake’s compound had brought in music from this decade.

  Tori liked the song, so she let the music grow louder in her mind. She still didn’t see anyone in the room she wanted to hang out with. These events crawled by when she had no one to talk to but her parents. Her mom and dad were always too busy working the floor to pay attention to her.

  “Why are you humming?” Aprilynne asked.

  “Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize I was.”

  Aprilynne regarded her suspiciously. “You don’t have some sort of wireless earbuds, do you?”

  “No. I just … feel like humming sometimes.”

  Aprilynne leaned in toward Tori and lowered her voice. “If you have earbuds, I want some, too. I swear, if I have to listen to the president give one more speech about bipartisanship…”

  “I don’t,” Tori said.

  “Right. You’re tapping your foot.”

  Before Tori knew what she was doing, Aprilynne reached out and snatched Tori’s purse from her hand. “Are there more in here?”

  Aprilynne turned away so Tori couldn’t grab her purse back without making a scene. Tori was tempted to grab it anyway. She eyed her parents ahead of them in the line. They weren’t paying attention. Neither was the president. The secret servicemen scattered around the room, however, all seemed to be watching her.

  Tori patiently held out her hand to her sister. “Give me my purse back.”

  Aprilynne pulled out the black plastic watch from Tori’s purse and held it up. She shook her head sadly. “I can’t believe you brought this thing with you tonight. It’s clearly time for a fashion intervention.”

  Aprilynne was right about the watch. It was too big, too clunky, and the tiny pink crystals Theo had glued around the face didn’t do much to make it look like a woman’s watch. Pretty much it looked like a man’s watch in drag. Which was why techno geeks shouldn’t design watches.

  Tori kept her hand stretched out. “I’m not wearing it. I just put it in my purse and forgot it was in there. Give it back.”

  Dr. B insisted on phones that doubled as watches because he thought Overdrake wouldn’t know they were phones and therefore wouldn’t try to bug them. Which might be the case unless Overdrake had seen enough pictures of Tori in the media to wonder why she’d stopped wearing her Rolex in favor of something that was made of gaudy black plastic. Then he might suspect something.

  Aprilynne turned the watch over in her hand. “A guy must have given this to you. Was it that hot guy at your dragon geek camp?” She meant Jesse. Aprilynne had met him at the beginning of camp.

  “Actually, no.”

  Aprilynne smiled knowingly. “Right. I bet there was a tender exchange when he gave it to you.”

  Theo had given Tori the watch and the exchange had been:

  Tori: This is a prank, right? You and Bess came up with this together, didn’t you?

  Theo: Don’t wave it around like that. It’s expensive.

  Tori: People at my school will openly mock me if I wear this.

  Theo: Stop whining. I put crystals on yours so it would look all bling.

  Tori (trying to flick off one of the crystals): What if this watch accidently fell underneath the wheels of a moving car? Would you make me a different one?

  Instead of an actual answer, Theo had let out a stream of threats about what would happen to her should any harm come to her watch-phone.

  As if. Even without her extra powers, Tori could have taken Theo out with one well-delivered kick.

  Aprilynne held the watch between her thumb and finger as though it were a small animal that had suddenly died. Pathetic and probably germ ridden. “I’m all for romantic tokens,” she said, handing it back to Tori, “but couldn’t he have given you something with more … I don’t know … class … elegance … basic fashion sense? It makes you wonder about his taste.”

  Tori snatched her watch back, then took her purse as well. She shoved the watch inside and snapped the clasp shut. “Jesse didn’t give it to me.” It shouldn’t have bothered her to say this. She felt a sting, though. Her mind said the words she hadn’t. Jesse hadn’t given her anything.

  The line moved forward, taking Aprilynne’s attention away from Tori. They were almost to the president. A new song came on in her mind. Taylor Swift’s “Picture to Burn.” An angry breakup song. For once Overdrake had matched his music to her mood. As Tori concentrated on the words, the music automatically grew louder.

  Tori’s father shook hands with the president. Both men were all smiles. Tori’s mother was next in line.

  Aprilynne nudged Tori and gave her a warning look. “What are you muttering? ‘Burn, baby, burn’? What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Oops. It meant she’d been singing out loud. “Nothing,” Tori said.

  Aprilynne didn’t comment. It was her turn to greet the president. Aprilynne shook his hand, then turned and posed for the photo. After that, she glided down the line to the vice president.

  Tori stepped over to shake the president’s hand. He smiled at her, all teeth and polish, then called to her father, “Your girls just get prettier every time I see them.” The president put his other hand on top of Tori’s so her ha
nd was sandwiched in his grip. Leaning toward her confidentially, he said, “You have a beautiful face, which is a good thing because, unlike some of us, you only have one, eh?” He laughed at his joke, but there was an edge to it.

  “Yeah. Again, sorry about that.” Again, not really.

  “Don’t get me wrong,” the president said, prolonging her turn with him, “I admire a person who speaks their mind.” At least until it went viral. Then he was considerably less admiring. “Once you’re educated about the issues, you’ll be able to do some good in the world.” Implying, of course, if she didn’t agree with him she was ignorant and worthless.

  She smiled at him anyway. And that’s when Tori heard it. A sound that wasn’t part of Taylor Swift’s song, but had come from the same location. A screech. High pitched like wheels squealing. But longer, animal like. Dragon like.

  Tori let out a gasp. Her eyes flew wide open and her heart slammed into her chest. Had an egg hatched?

  The president jerked his hand away from her. He looked behind him to see what she was staring at. The motion caused a ripple of movement among the secret servicemen. They were on alert, scanning the room, hands on their weapons.

  “What’s wrong?” the president asked her.

  “Nothing.” Tori strained to hear other noises among the chorus of the song. Had it been a dragon, or something else? “I just remembered I hadn’t done my calculus homework.”

  The president relaxed. “That’s what you think about while you’re talking to the leader of the free world—your homework?” He let out a sound that was nearly a chuckle, although less amused.

  She nodded, barely hearing his words. The noise couldn’t have been a dragon. Not yet. It was something else. A cart moving near the eggs maybe. She took a deep breath. Everything would be okay.

  And then Tori heard a second screech. An angry, rumbling sound that was immediately joined by another screech—two dragons. They’d both hatched. Tori stiffened, horrified. This couldn’t happen yet. If the dragons had hatched, they would be mature within a year. She wasn’t ready to fight them. She only had one summer of training.