Prophecy (Residue Series #4)

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Prophecy (Residue Series #4) Page 13

by Falter, Laury


  Dinner conversation was fluid and light. No one brought up The Sevens again, but it never left my mind that these people were risking their lives if any Vires tracked us here. And I deeply appreciated it.

  At the end, Jocelyn, Maggie, Eran, and I washed and dried the dishes as the rest left for their rooms. Ezra and Mrs. Tanner, however, stopped at the doorway. Simultaneously, they turned back to face me.

  “If you’re staying here, you’ll need to follow the rules,” Ezra mentioned.

  “Rules?” I repeated.

  “Eran will fill you in.”

  When she was gone and the girls were busy putting the dishes away, Eran whispered, “Separate bedrooms,” and my stomach sank.

  Then I saw the way Eran’s mouth turned down in a suspicious smile and it made me think he got around that rule somehow.

  “They’re not adamant about it.”

  That was literally the best news I’d gotten in days.

  The four of us headed upstairs afterwards and down a hallway that spanned the length of the house. The girls had their own rooms and I’d be sharing with Eran, just as Ezra had warned. Jocelyn’s room was on the right, next to Maggies, and Eran’s was directly across the hall. His was sparse, but I didn’t need much. My body was accustomed to sleeping conditions that would challenge most others. So when he threw me a blanket and a pillow, I laid them on the floor and settled in.

  I was severely sleep deprived, and with food in my stomach, dozing should have come easy. But my mind and body were in synch and neither one wanted to shut down. After showering, I lay there listening to Jocelyn moving around her room. And a sort of peace came over me. She’d finally be able to sleep in a real bed. While that thought didn’t quench the arousal of knowing she was in bed, it made me feel like something considerable had been accomplished today. And in our situation, that meant a great deal.

  When the house grew quiet, other than someone’s snoring rumbling through the walls, I heard Eran whisper my name.

  “It’s clear,” he said. “Go to her.”

  It felt like I was liberated, freed from a pair of chains.

  By the second part of that sentence I was on my feet. By the time he’d finished it, I was at the door. I slipped through it and down the hall, hoping to God that her door didn’t squeak when I opened it. But as I put my hand on the knob, the snoring stopped, and I froze.

  What am I doing? I thought. I’m in someone else’s house, sneaking into my girlfriend’s room, who is also a guest here. What a total lack of self-restraint…

  But I couldn’t stop myself. I’d been given food, and that part of me was fulfilled. The greater part of me, the part that needed Jocelyn remained empty. That part hungered for her, yearned for her, ached for her.

  “Jameson.” Her voice came through the dark, and the door opened to her silhouette, and I completely abandoned every sense of respect, every notion of civility, every manner I’d ever been taught.

  I took her face in my hands and pulled her to me. And I kissed her deeply, taking her in, all of her…her taste, her scent. I was consumed by her. We stumbled back into her room, and I swung the door closed with my foot, a perfect force that allowed it to simply lock in place with a soft click. I was two steps in before realizing she wasn’t responding.

  She couldn’t, not unless I absorbed her-

  Jocelyn yanked her lips from mine. “No,” she declared in a firm whisper.

  “Were you listening to my thoughts?”

  “Yes,” she said without a hint of guilt. “And I won’t let you do that again.”

  I frowned, although she couldn’t see it.

  Restraining my thoughts, because my hands were still holding her and I didn’t want her to read them again, I said, “I have another idea.”

  She didn’t move, and I figured this was because she was attempting to do what I didn’t want her to.

  “You can stop. I’m not going to think it again. You’ve missed your chance.”

  She snickered, although it sounded light-hearted.

  “Where’s your bed?” I asked.

  Her voice broke when she answered, and I knew she was nervous…excited but nervous. “Ov-ver there….”

  “Can you lead me?”

  She nodded, and I slid my hand down her arm, noting that it felt like silk against my skin, and then entwined my fingers with hers.

  Once there, I whispered, “Lay down, Jocelyn,” and she did.

  I settled into the exact same position I’d been in the last time we were in bed together, our bodies pressed together, my front to her side. But when I laid my hand on her stomach, this time, her heart fluttered. She knew what was coming, or so she thought; she anticipated it, wanted it. And knowing that was extremely rewarding.

  So I did to her what I had done the last time we lay in bed together. Except this time, I used my lips. She quivered and moaned and sighed and each sound was a roadmap, leading me, showing me how to satisfy her. And when her back arched and she released, forgetting in the moment what that contact with me would do, I drew in her pain so that she could feel complete.

  “Jameson?” Her voice came to me fuzzy, hollow, from down a long tunnel. “Are you all right?”

  “Give…,” I grunted, “me a minute.”

  The pain was just as intense as it had been the first time. There was no diminishing the potency of it even though I knew it was coming.

  She sighed and reached out to comfort me, stopping just in time.

  I’d recovered sufficiently to warn her. “Let me…get through this.”

  She sat back and waited, and when I looked up, in the faint light drifting in from the window, I found there were tears in her eyes.

  “No,” I sighed. This was the last thing I wanted.

  I took her in my arms and pressed her next to me, wanting to absorb this new sense of pain. When she recognized what I was doing, she wiped the wetness from her cheeks and insisted, “I’m fine.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes, I just-” Her hand came up, pausing in midair on its way to my cheek. “I just want to touch you, Jameson, before…”

  And I knew what she meant.

  She wanted to feel me once more, just once, without any pain, before she took my life.

  “You will,” I said resolutely. “I’ll make sure that happens, Jocelyn.” She had lowered her eyes and was shifting her head slowly back and forth. “Do you believe me?”

  When they rose again, there were fresh tears, but she nodded. And when she whispered her response, it summed up her entire life in one sentence. “Jameson…you’re the only one I believe in.”

  THIS IS NOT FAIR! my mind screamed. And as vengeance swelled in me, I pulled her back to my chest. I then pressed her head against me and tucked her hands around my waist because I knew she couldn’t.

  “Are you comfortable?” I asked.

  “Mmmm,” she murmured.

  And that alone dissipated the anger I felt and made me smile. If it hadn’t been for her response, I’m not sure sleep would have been possible for me.

  But it came with her head resting on me, the rise and fall of her breathing lifting my arms rhythmically as they lay wrapped around her. It was a solid shuteye, undisturbed by dreams, uninterrupted by what was happening halfway around the world, because we hadn’t been told yet.

  The next thing I knew Jocelyn’s mother’s voice stirred the house. But it wasn’t her arrival, or even the urgency in her tone that brought me fully awake. It was the message.

  “The Seven’s are launching their first attack.”

  11

  FLAVIAN

  MY FEET HIT THE WOOD FLOORS hard, but I only slightly registered it. There were so many thoughts going through my head that pain didn’t make it onto my list of priorities.

  Where was the attack being launched?

  How many Sevens were on the ground there?

  How many Vires were being used?

  When did they strike?

  Lastly, and most im
portantly, how do I keep Jocelyn from insisting on going? Because I knew she would.

  Every one of my questions, with the exception of the one concerning Jocelyn, were answered after I pulled on the black Vire uniform and met up with Isabella downstairs. Jocelyn came up behind me, breathless and wide-eyed, and again my concern over her wanting to go flared. And she had dressed for it, having borrowed black, tight-fitting clothes from Maggie. Needless to say, she was a distraction.

  “Flavian began launching waves of Vires across western Africa less than an hour ago, and they’re taking down everyone, not just those in our world.”

  “Just one Seven?” I asked, stunned.

  “Yes. The rest are positioning their Vire forces in each of their provinces, but they haven’t moved yet.”

  “Which means they are using Flavian as a test…,” I deduced.

  “That’s likely,” Eran said, coming down the stairs. Maggie followed him, nodding in agreement. I didn’t notice this so much as what she was wearing…a black leather suit, the same one she wore to Sisera’s execution. Different, I thought, realizing that singular description applied to so many characteristics about her.

  By this time, the rest of the house was flooding into the small parlor room just inside the front door.

  Maggie agreed with us. “That sounds like the Fallen-umm-The Sevens’ method. If all goes well, the rest of them will strike.”

  “Not if we don’t give them the chance,” I mumbled, as a plan formed in my mind. It was hazy, moving itself like puzzle pieces fitting together until the picture as a whole transpired. When the image settled, it was lucid and had a high probability of success.

  “What’s on your mind?” Eran asked. Evidently, he detected what I was doing.

  “I think this Vire uniform might come in handy. But we’ll need you and Maggie there, too.”

  “Good, let’s go,” Maggie stated.

  “We’re wasting time,” Jocelyn added as the two of them headed for the door.

  I almost groaned, knowing where this was headed. “My plan doesn’t involve you, Jocelyn.”

  She stopped a foot from the door and turned back to face me with her mouth agape. Maggie paused too, glancing curiously at Eran.

  I took a quick look at Isabella and found that I was on my own. Judging by her frown, she knew she lost authority over her daughter a long time ago. If she pushed, Jocelyn would pull. And vice versa. The expression she gave me confirmed it was up to me now. It was saying: Good luck.

  “You need me there,” Jocelyn declared, with fire in her eyes. She wasn’t going to back down.

  Ezra had been standing by the kitchen doorway with a mug in her hand observing. “Huh, looks like Maggie and Jocelyn are cut from the same cloth.”

  I didn’t know what that meant, but it really didn’t matter. I was more focused on talking some sense into Jocelyn, although I didn’t have much hope of accomplishing it.

  I appreciated when Ezra suggested that they all give us some privacy.

  Jocelyn didn’t wait for them to leave, marching back to me, determination etched into her face. “I’m not going to stay here. I won’t be able to heal you from here.” She said this with genuine fear.

  “I won’t need to be healed.”

  “You don’t know that. The Sevens want you dead just as much as they want me.”

  “They won’t even notice I’m there.”

  “What?” she demanded. “How can you say-”

  “I have a plan, Jocelyn. It doesn’t include you.”

  “You’re going to have to modify it then.”

  “I can’t risk you being captured again. I can’t,” I said, stressing my point through the resolve in my voice. “If you come, I will be focused on you, not on Flavian.”

  “And I can’t risk you not coming back,” she said, trembling, her voice almost a shout.

  A clearing of the throat suddenly halted our debate. “Is your issue resolved?” Ezra asked, peering from around the corner of the kitchen hallway.

  “No,” I said, frustration unmistakable in my tone.

  “Well, you need to hurry it up because there is a mob forming on my front porch.” She tipped her head toward the large window overlooking the front of the house. Sure enough, my family and the Weatherfords gathered, their heads silhouetted against the streetlight outside.

  I sighed and shook my head. “They’re harmless,” I stated before second guessing the truthfulness to that statement. The fact they were lining up on opposite sides of the porch didn’t look comforting.

  “This isn’t over,” Jocelyn stated as I opened the door, and I felt my mouth sink into a frown.

  “Well, it’s good to see you too,” my mother said as she entered, and my frown deepened until I realized that they weren’t alone.

  “Theleo?” I muttered, surprised.

  “Jameson,” he greeted stiffly. “You didn’t come for me.” He stepped up to the welcome mat once the last of the Weatherfords had filtered inside.

  “Why would I?”

  He stared at me, making me think I had asked a ridiculous question. “You killed a Seven,” he said remaining expressionless.

  It made me realize then that he still wanted to be a part of what we had started, to help in our undertaking. I had turned them all away, every Dissident, every Defector, and given them a safe location to ride out this war between The Sevens, Jocelyn, and me. And they had left, as I asked, and the rumor had started convincing them that I was working for The Sevens, so it never occurred to me that any of them would ever want to be involved again.

  I felt an urge to slap myself upside the head, because I now realized that of course they would leave. They were taught to follow commands. They did as I told them. But Theleo had always thought for himself, and was now proving once again he didn’t follow pack mentality.

  “I can be of service,” he claimed, as if reading my thoughts.

  And that’s when it came to me.

  “Yes,” I agreed. “Yes, you can.”

  Stepping aside so he could enter, my gaze drifted to Jocelyn, who greeted Theleo with an embrace. Awkwardly, he leaned in but didn’t raise his arms. Vires weren’t taught to hug.

  “What are you doing here?” Jocelyn asked, just as amazed as I had been.

  Before Theleo could answer, I cut in. “He’ll be escorting you to Africa.”

  They both gave me a stunned look. Jocelyn’s was especially inquisitive.

  To Theleo, I said, “Keep her at a distance, hidden. She is not to move, period, unless I give you a signal.”

  “I understand.”

  “Is that resolved enough for you?” I asked Jocelyn.

  “Yes,” she replied bluntly.

  I was angry with myself for giving in. But what choice did I have? There was no doubt in me that she would ignore my wishes and show up on the battlefield where she would be truly endangering herself.

  My lips tight in resistance, I nodded to her and turned back to the room. Again, both families had been split down the middle and were parked on opposite sides of the parlor. They were torn between looking at me and keeping an eye on their adversaries across from them. “The rest of you came because you heard what’s happening in western Africa, am I correct?”

  Various nods and grumbles gave me my answer.

  “Well, you’ve come for nothing,” I said plainly. “You can’t help. Not yet. It’s best if you return to your safe houses.”

  “We’ll stay,” my mother replied adamantly.

  “We’ll wait,” Isabella announced.

  My gut told me that wasn’t a smart idea, but every second we waited discussing it would mean more lives lost to Flavian’s forces. I’ll have to deal with whatever happens between them when I get back, I reasoned. If I get back.

  “Eran? Maggie?” I called to them as they collected in the hallway leading to the kitchen.

  “We’re ready,” Eran confirmed.

  After Jocelyn and I weaved our way through to the back door, I stopped
next to Ezra in the kitchen. She knew what I was asking and gave me a nod of consent.

  “Thank you,” I said. “If they are any trouble, kick them out.”

  She flashed a huge grin. “I will.”

  Her uninhibited reassurance gave me some relief.

  Regardless, as the door was closing behind me, I called out in a final attempt to get them to strongly reflect on their actions before committing to them. “Behave!”

  Unfortunately, the scowl beginning to creep across Charlotte’s face didn’t leave me with the sense that I got through.

  Theleo levitated us through the treetops to just above the more common flight paths taken by the airlines before pointing us toward Africa. Once on our way, Eran yelled out, “All right, Jameson, going to enlighten us on this plan of yours?”

  “Well,” I began, knowing I’d face some resistance. “We’re going to find Flavian’s command center and walk right in.”

  Anyone not already looking quickly turned in my direction. Eran’s only reaction was to hold back a laugh.

  “We can’t defeat his forces head on, so we’ll come in from behind.” I paused and then summed it up the best way I could. “Take out the leader, leave the forces in chaos.”

  After a few seconds of silence, Eran spoke as he nodded approvingly. “Right, cut the head off the dragon before the tail knows what’s going on.”

  “Okay, but how do we even get close to the dragon?” Maggie asked with a puzzled shrug.

  “I’m going to deliver you,” I said. “You’ll act as my prisoners, and we’ll walk right in. Flavian won’t know what hit him until it’s too late.

  “Camouflage,” Eran repeated. “I like it, Caldwell.”

  I do too, I thought, so long as it works.

  Theleo brought us in from the side, not too far back from the front line. It was mid-morning here, which made it easy for us to realize we had reached our destination. While our speed hindered us from catching sight of all that was happening on the ground, it didn’t obstruct everything. And what I saw made me want to tell him to land right then so I could beat the cra-.

  “They’re fighting back,” Maggie said with an optimistic edge to her voice.

 

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