Before she could take a step away from me, I said, “I remember the explosions and Jonathan, Mrs. Cohen. No need to bother Goldbridge. He must have a lot on his hands right now.” I lifted the corner of my mouth into a half smile. “What I don’t recall is how I injured my head.”
Saying those words reminded me that Jonathan’s first reaction coming into my office had been to pin me to the wall. And it was at that exact moment that I had started feeling dizzy.
Michelle looked at her wrist-watch. “I am truly sorry; Dr. Goldbridge said you would be fine when you woke up. I will find somebody else to take care of HQ while I’m gone.”
Take care of HQ…
“But I’m perfectly fine, Mrs. Cohen!” I said immediately. “I meant, I don’t know what happened after I killed Jonathan. I do remember everything before that. He pushed me against the wall but I hadn’t realized I’d hurt my head. Doesn’t mean I won’t be able to run the place while you are away. I simply did not express myself very well.” Realizing I was rambling, I cleared my throat. “I’m fine, really.”
Michelle frowned. “Are you certain, Ian? Because I wouldn’t want to ask too much of you, especially after everything you’ve been through. I ordered Dick and Max yesterday to never, ever leave your side again. They will take turns in guarding you during their meal times as well as at night. No one will come near you that you don’t want to. I feel very responsible for you. You know that, right?”
“Of course, of course.”
She smiled a little but her eyes were still sad. “Are you certain you don’t need to rest longer? I would understand.”
Since Michelle did not seem to believe my words, I thrust my legs over the right side of my bed and got up on my two feet. Except for the mild throbbing in my temples, I felt perfectly functional. “See?” I told her, throwing my arms in the air. “Nothing to worry about.”
In a sudden exhale of breath, she said, “Thank goodness.” Her shoulders relaxed, clearly free from a heavy burden. “With my husband gone, you are the only person I can fully trust with this task.”
Interesting. “Where is Mr. Jensen?”
Her features sagged. “Oh Ian, there is so much you do not know.” She gazed at her watch. “I suppose if I can trust you with HQ, I can trust you with this information. But you must promise me you will tell no one.” I nodded quickly, shivering with excitement. “Karl, Samera, and Amya helped Xander Macfrey to escape. They are currently on the run until it is safe to come back at Headquarters. That is in fact the reason why I must go. To find some information.”
Shock rendered me speechless. Michelle had gone behind every Protector’s back to protect a criminal. I had to bite my tongue in order to prevent myself from speaking my mind.
How dare she…?
“I understand that this information must be kept from those who wish to see Xander dead at all costs,” I said, trying to hide the bitterness from my voice.
“Yes, Ian. And I trust you will keep it to yourself. Now, it is of utmost importance that you rebuild the two floors destroyed and that you keep searching for Delilah Priam. I notified the President that we would be incapable of helping with other matters for a few days or weeks, depending how long it takes to get back on our feet and find Amya’s sister. He will ask for our help only if he has no one else to turn to, so you won’t be overwhelmed.” She smiled kindly.
“I must depart right away”—Michelle looked at her watch again—“if I want to catch…” She gazed at me and seemed to weigh whether or not she could disclose where she was going. “Take care of our people for me, would you? We must remain strong for our family in Europe, who’re still suffering from the aftermath of the Rascals’ murders… And please do not contact François, Stephano, and the other leaders for a while. They are very upset about the explosions. It is best we give them some time to recover…”
These were her last words before she turned around, closed the door behind her, and disappeared in the hall.
And that was the best news I’d received in… years? With Karl, Samera, and even Michelle gone, I had complete control over HQ. For how long, I didn’t know, but I sure as hell was going to make the best of it. After putting on a pair of socks and my shoes, which lay on the white carpet, I headed directly for my office.
Several of my colleagues tried to stop me along the way, but I kept my head high and repeated that I needed to take care of something before I could help them. The word had apparently spread; they knew I was in charge. I was pleased to see that walls were already being rebuilt and most of the dust had been cleaned out. It was like looking at an ant colony, everyone busy at their task, and I, well, I was their new queen.
There was a blood-stain on the wall of my office where my head must have struck and a much bigger puddle of dark red blood next to my desk, where I’d last seen Jonathan. He was dead, finally. One fewer problem to worry about.
I quickly looked through my left drawer and found the device Meo had given me. My heart was beating in my chest like a rock concert. I held the coop-hole into my trembling hands and took a deep breath to steady my voice.
Meo answered right away. “What is it again? We’re very busy here. I told you before, you are of no use to us until—”
“Michelle is gone,” I said, a big smile on my face even though he couldn’t see me.
“Pardon me?”
“Michelle, her husband, and her daughter are all gone for—well, I don’t really know how much time I have, but I am currently at the head of all operations at Headquarters.” I spoke so fast, I thought Meo would ask me to repeat again. Instead, I almost felt his grin against the phone.
“Very well done, Ian,” he said. “You might be useful after all. I will inform my boss of this new turn of events and come back to you soon. Very soon.”
“Thank you,” I replied without thinking. I felt such joy that it was hard for me to think straight. “I’ll be waiting for your call.”
At that, Meo hung up, leaving me nearly jumping up and down. I was finally going to make a difference. I was finally going to have a chance to prove myself. And now was the time to start.
After hiding the device in my sock, in case the Protectors renovating the Headquarters would search my office during the cleaning process, I stalked out of my office and told everyone in the hallway that we were having a general meeting in the library in twenty minutes.
“Tell your colleagues,” I said. “It is very important that everyone is there.”
***
The first two floors of the library were brimming with curious faces. Hushed voices echoed on the painted ceiling and ancient walls. My hands clenched and unclenched as I tried to figure out just how much those ignorant people needed to know in order to trust me. I couldn’t discuss the matter of Karl helping Xander out of HQ or it would most likely create a riot. I had no idea where Michelle had gone. And Meo could be needing my help in the near future. All in all, I had to appear in control of the situation, busy helping everyone back to their jobs, and most importantly, more efficient than Michelle had ever been.
As soon as I felt like everyone had arrived, with dozens of Protectors waiting for me to explain the situation, I stepped toward the microphone someone had set up and silence befell the eager crowd.
“Hi, everyone,” I said and then cleared my throat. You are in control, I repeated to myself, so act like it. “Thank you all for coming.” I paused, looking at their questioning faces. Who was I to give them orders? I was disliked by many and probably unknown to others. How was it that I could make them like me? “I understand that some—if not all of you—are wondering what is going on. Many of our colleagues are still at the infirmary and most of us mourn our lost friends and family members. This is a hard time for all of us.” There were murmurs and sharp looks.
“I did not gather you here today to state the obvious. Pain and death is part of life and”—I saw a woman in tears to my right, shaking her head—“I cannot even begin to understand what some of you
are going through at the moment. But there is one thing I am certain. It’s that we are all members of this large family of diverse races and religions, sexes and opinions. And I assure you that we are stronger together than we are as individuals. Each and every one of you has a specific talent that makes you unique. And if we want to get through this rough day, if we want to get back on our feet stronger than we were before, we need to stick together as a whole and use all possible resources to make it happen.”
At last, I could perceive people nodding and whispering in agreement. “Many of you might know that Michelle has gone on a special quest—” At that, shouts of surprise and consternation were heard. “But that doesn’t mean we cannot handle ourselves!” I spoke over the growing voices. “I am here to make this transition as painless as possible…”
But the cries were too loud now.
“Who are you?” I heard.
“We deserve an explanation!”
“Where’s our leader when we need her?”
My hands turned into fists as warmth rose up my neck and cheeks. Who was I kidding? No one wanted to hear soothing words. The Rascals’ attack on the Protectors’ home was an act of war, nothing less. And they were perfectly right to be angry at Michelle for leaving.
“All right, I understand…” I started to say.
“No you don’t!”
“You can’t replace Michelle!”
“Where is she?”
The insults piled as I felt like my head would explode. Some people on the second floor above pointed their fingers in my direction. A man on the first floor was marching toward me looking utterly angry. The world started spinning and I had to close my eyes to prevent myself from collapsing. There was nothing I could do to calm their anger. I knew from personal experience that those hurtful words directed at me were only a mechanism to cope with the disconcerting situation, but it hurt all the same.
I focused on steadying my breath, but couldn’t concentrate with the shouting and the hatred surrounding me. I felt my nails carving into my palms, and my jaw was so tight I thought it would break.
How would Meo react to a situation like this? I hastily pondered. He’d laugh like he always did, but now wasn’t the time. Laughing would only anger the Protectors even more.
I focused on an alternative and wished I could just block out the cries and complaints around.
I wished I could press a button and mute the entire room.
Rage boiled in my veins.
Make them shut up.
But the room was too loud; I could barely think anymore.
My ears were buzzing like a boiling kettle.
I pressed my fists to my head and exploded at once.
“SHUT UP! JUST—SHUT—UP!”
When I opened my eyes again, the room was silent. All I could hear was my own breathing projected through the microphone. Gasps and wide eyes occupied most faces, while others were frowning and crossing their arms over their chest. I had to say something. And fast.
“If I must be completely honest with you,” I snapped. “I don’t believe it’s going to be fine either. I don’t think you”—I pointed to the crying woman—“will grieve faster by working with us on rebuilding our Headquarters. I have no idea if the Rascals plan on destroying us all in the near future. And I honestly don’t know what crossed Mrs. Cohen’s mind when she decided to leave us all to this mess and put me in charge. I’m as upset and lost as you all are. The only difference is that I know complaining and shouting at one another won’t help!” That last sentence came out louder than I had expected, but looking at their surprised expressions, I saw that it had the desired effect. “I’ve never had to care for so many people at the same time and I must admit that I’m a little scared I’ll simply make things worse.” Some actually grinned at that. “But you know what? It is my duty to try and make the best out of this terrible situation! I don’t care if you don’t like me. That is your problem. Because, unlike Michelle, I intend to stay right here with all of you until this place is whole again!”
Chapter XII
Amya Priam
My heart beating hard against the wood and the wind blowing in my hair were the only hints telling me I was still alive. My eyelids seemed forever glued to each other, or at least until we arrived at our destination. I hated roller-coasters and I now presumed I was seasick as well, so lying on this sham of a boat, driven by fish, provided an overview of what the combination of both would be like. And it was far from enjoyable.
After what seemed like hours of praying and cursing in my head, I heard my name spoken by a man. Was it Mr. Jensen? Xander? I couldn’t be certain with the wind howling painfully in my ears.
“Amya,” the low voice repeated to my right.
Without opening my eyes in the slightest, I simply relied, “What is it?” on a sharp, terrified tone.
“Hush, you’ll wake everybody up,” Xander—I could now recognize his warm, reassuring voice—said through a laugh. I noticed he was speaking only loud enough so that I could hear him. “Amya, you can open your eyes.”
“No. I’m too scared.”
Xander’s smile was almost palpable when he spoke. “Trust me, there is nothing to be afraid of. Open your eyes and you’ll see for yourself.”
I was just about to answer that he had nothing to fear since Rascals—as much as we knew about them anyway—couldn’t die, when something warm brushed my hand. My head jerked backward and my eyes expanded wide open, making sure we weren’t under the attack of some kind of sea monster trying to drag us to the depth of the ocean. But we weren’t. Xander’s fingers reached mine and I noticed that my knuckles had turned white. My heart beating in my ears, I stared at Xander’s hand, too afraid to look around or close my eyes again. I was frozen in place.
“Xander, my eyes are open,” I said, the words a trembling murmur. Water spattered on my arms and the wind was so strong—like ice against my skin—that I had to slowly lower my head again. But I kept fixing my eyes on the view ahead. Swiftly, Xander lifted my ring finger and slid his index underneath it. I gasped, feeling like a high-wire walker trying to balance my feet on a rope. The wrong movement could make me fall.
At the same time, the warmth coming out of Xander’s skin made me shiver. I thought of the way he’d kissed me at HQ. I could still feel his rough facial hair, a contrast to the smoothness of his lips. Smell his minty breath. And see the concern and love in his eyes… But I pushed the memory away. It had been a mistake. I knew of his feelings for me and since I still wasn’t certain how I felt about him, I had no right to lead him on. “What are you doing? Are you mad?”
“Hold onto me. The rope is hurting you, Amya.” There was concern in his voice again, but I was too petrified to move.
An idea came to my mind. “You fed on my fear earlier in the Cave,” I said, recalling the dread I’d felt looking at Jeffrey’s knife. “Can you do it again?”
This time, Xander did not laugh. Instead, he nuzzled the top of my finger with his thumb. “I didn’t. I lied to you.”
“What?” A chill ran up my back. “What do you mean?”
“I did not take away your fear of knives, Amya. I simply embedded a bigger dose of confidence into you, which can be done on your own.” His hand drifted under my index finger and squeezed. “Let go of the rope.”
Was it all that was missing? Confidence? I could hardly believe it, but again, I hadn’t minded Jeffrey using his knife on my ankle. I had ceased focusing on the fear and anticipation of the pain that would result from it. Sure, it had hurt, but I’d survived and the ache from the wound hadn’t been half as bad as I’d first imagined. Could the same apply to my dread of boats and water?
Yet I had almost drowned when Samera, Xander, and I had escaped from the hospital last month, which for me was a good enough reason to remain fearful of the sea. But today… the circumstance wasn’t the same. I was healthy now, not at all on the verge of fainting, and my waist was safely tied to the boat. A quick peek out the corner
of my eye at Samera indicated that she was asleep, her body relaxed, her arms on either sides of her, and yet she lay there on the boat, just like me, nowhere near getting hurt in any way. If she could afford to fall asleep, I could at least make an effort to enjoy the trip.
“Xander,” I finally said. “Will you grab my hand if I let go?”
A gentle pressure was felt over my fingers. “I’m ready when you are,” he replied.
Without thinking any further, I released my hold on the rope, my sight blurred for a second, and I was relieved to immediately feel my friend’s firm grip, keeping me steady and safe. My heart pulsed like a drum, but then, after a moment, my entire core relaxed and I was genuinely proud of myself. I kept staring at Xander’s hands turning red by the second.
“Am I hurting you?” I said without loosening my grip.
“Not at all.”
“I wouldn’t want to break your hand.”
He chuckled. “No offense, but I don’t believe you could have hurt me even when I was human.” The last word was spoken with hidden nostalgia.
Still squeezing his hand, I freed my thumb and started poking his knuckles. “We never got to talk about it,” I said. “I never really said thank you for what you did at the hospital, because it doesn’t feel right. You are who you are because of me. I feel very responsible—”
“Don’t.” His thumb circled mine. “What happened isn’t your fault. It’s Wyatt’s,” he said bitterly. “It’s always been Wyatt’s.”
I wanted to ask him how he felt and how he planned on telling his dad that he’d transformed into a Rascal, but his tone revealed that he wished to drop the subject. “So, er, I don’t know if I asked this question before, but why is it we’re not using a convy to go to Canada? I’m not saying it’s my favorite means of transportation, but it’s much faster and safer than this.”
AMANI: Reveal Page 8