Inquest

by Gladden, DelSheree

  Celia’s fork trembles slightly. She drops it back to her plate to cover it. “It wasn’t really a choice. We had to move. Milo knew that, but it didn’t make it any easier.”

  “So, was it for a job?”

  “No…there were, uh, family issues.”

  “Like what?” I push.

  She squirms, and there’s no hiding it this time. “Um, like the kind I’m not really allowed to talk about. Sorry, Libby. If Milo hasn’t already told you…you’ll have to ask him. I promised him I wouldn’t talk about it with anyone.”

  So it was something to do with Milo specifically. I feel like I’m very close to figuring it out. “It has something to do with his diktats,” I say. It’s not really a question, because I wouldn’t ask Celia to break her promise, but my musing sends a jolt through her.

  “Wh-what do you mean?” she asks. Pale and barely controlling a tremor running through her hands, she stares at me with wide eyes.

  “I…nothing. I just saw his diktats, and how they’ve been damaged. I wondered if they were part of the reason he keeps away from people.”

  Reaching across the table, Celia grabs my hand. Tighter than I would have expected, her grip turns my fingertips beet red. “Libby, you can’t tell anyone about his diktats, okay?”

  “Why not? I mean, I won’t, but why? What happened?”

  For a moment I think she’ll tell me. She looks like she’s about to explode. Clearly, keeping secrets isn’t the easiest thing for her. She shakes her head. “No. I can’t. You just have to leave it alone. If Milo tells you, that’s different, but until then, please, Libby, don’t say anything to anyone.”

  Frustration pulses against my temples, giving me an instant headache.

  “Look, Libby, my parents moved us out here to protect Milo. If you stir things up, you’ll ruin that. Please, just forget about it,” she begs.

  Faced with her intensity, I can’t do anything but agree. “Sure, Celia. I don’t want to make things worse. I want to protect Milo too. I won’t bring it up again.”

  “Thank you,” she sighs. She spears another piece of broccoli and raises it to her mouth. Her chewing is slow, uncertain, as if she’s waiting to see if I really will leave the topic of Milo’s diktats alone. She tries to act normally, but I can see the tremor in her hand that talking about it has caused. I pick at my own food and wait for her to get herself back under control.

  Maybe Celia is right about Milo’s diktats. I have enough crap to deal with anyway, right? If he doesn’t want to tell me the story behind his screwed up Inquest, then I need to drop it. Whatever it is, it can’t be nearly as bad as Guardians and Seekers trying to kill me. Right?

  “So, are we ready to go?” I ask after we’ve both cleared our plates.

  “We got the dress, shoes, hot rollers…” I shiver at the mention. “…jewelry, makeup. That should be all of it. We made pretty good time, too,” Celia says.

  “We’ve been here for five hours.”

  She grins. “Exactly.”

  Celia spends the walk back through the mall giving me tips on getting ready for the dance next weekend. I’m paying close attention to what she’s saying until we step outside. Deep, thrumming hatred sizzles against my skin. Somehow I keep walking. Clamping down my own emotions, I push my Perception out around me like I have done so many times before, searching for the source.

  Make that sources. Six of them. All around me, closing in on us in a balanced elliptical. I don’t even need Concealment to point them out to me. They aren’t trying to hide their presence. If they were they wouldn’t be walking against the traffic. Everyone else is heading either to the parking lot or to the mall. But these six, bulky men are the only ones cutting straight across the packed parking lot. Directly toward me.

  Lazaro just claimed the opportunity he was waiting for.

  I have the sudden, irrational urge to have Lance by my side. It’s purely for his skill. Not only have I been forced to watch him every day since my Inquest showing off his ridiculous talent in class, with no shirt on to boot, but I grew up with him. I was careful to never show him my real Speed and Strength, but we loved sparring with each other. We fight together better than anyone else I’ve ever met. I swallow nervously. Six Guardians. My talents are unlocked now. I should be able to take them, no problem. I think.

  A stocky guy in a polo shirt is moving slightly faster than the others, making a beeline for me and Celia.

  Celia. Panic tries to fight its way into my mind, but I refuse to give it any purchase. They aren’t here for her. If I can get her in the car, she’ll be fine. We’re still a good hundred yards from the Bronco, though. Before I can even start forming a plan, I need to know who these guys are, Seekers or Guardians. I know almost nothing about Seekers, but somehow coming after me in a parking lot in the middle of the day with hundreds of potential witnesses doesn’t seem to fit their general secretive nature.

  They’d come for me at night, not stalking down the asphalt like tigers in pursuit of their next meal. A guy dressed in a too-big sports jersey has a deliciously gleeful expression on his pocked face that doesn’t seem to fit with being a Seeker either. Guardians then. At least they don’t have Vision. That would make things twice as hard. At least.

  The fact that I have Speed and Strength to match theirs, as well as Vision, not to mention the other four talents, should give me a sporting chance against the six Guardians closing in on me. I’m not actually planning to fight them unless I absolutely have to, but it takes down my anxiety a bit to know I might not die in the next two minutes. I doubt any of my attackers believe that, though. Confidence swarms out from every one of them. Unless they’re morons, they all know I have all seven talents, but most likely they all think that I have only gained access to them recently. They’ll expect me to be fast and strong, but clumsy and ungainly, easy to take down.

  Stupid Guardians.

  A spiteful laugh bubbles through my clenched teeth. That’s when I realize that Celia isn’t talking anymore. The effort it takes to put a smile on my face is surprisingly small. I loop my arm in hers and pull her closer to me.

  “Hey, Celia, you wouldn’t happen to know how to drive, would you?” I ask casually.

  “Sure,” she says with a shrug that’s identical to her brother’s. “Milo’s been teaching me to drive the Jeep out in the hills and I’ve been driving dune buggies for years.”

  That was actually exactly what I figured she would say. “Do you think you could back the Bronco out on your own?”

  She hesitates for just a second. “Yeah, I think so.”

  “Good.” I tug my keys out of my pocket and hand them to her.

  “Are they Guardians or Seekers?” she asks.

  My eyebrows lift in mild surprise. She is very attentive. And amazingly calm. It’s almost like she’s been through this before. But that is a topic for later. “I think they’re Guardians.”

  “Thank goodness. I was afraid they were Seekers,” Celia says.

  Milo has told her more about me than I expected. She says it so calmly, too. “What I want you to do is get in the Bronco and start backing out. Hopefully I’ll be ready to jump in by the time you get into the aisle. Be ready to move over, okay?”

  “No problem.”

  We’re twenty feet away from the car, now, and the Guardians are another ten feet from us. Shutting my Perception down, I open myself up to Vision. Seeing the things others cannot encompasses a whole host of uses, but in my opinion none more than glimpsing the future. I’m hardly as strong a Visionary as I am a Perceptionist, but all I need to see are the next few minutes. I just have to hope this is one of the times it actually works.

  My vision blurs and the hulking figures closing in on us advance in a split second. Hardly inventive, they’re going to come straight at me in a pack as soon as Celia is in the car. Polo Guy will get to me first. He’s a lefty. Pocked Face and the Asian guy next to him will strike next. By then Celia will have the Bronco backed into the aisle. My eyelids f
lutter and I lose the glimpse before seeing the others.

  Five feet to the car.

  I transfer my bags to Celia’s arms and help her settle them in the back. She climbs into the driver’s seat looking outwardly calm. Only I can see her fingers twitching.

  “I’ll see you later, then. Call me tonight if you want to see a movie, or something.”

  Celia offers her own bubble reply, closes the door and starts pulling out smoothly. She gets halfway out of the spot before I sense Polo Guy’s presence. I drop into a tuck and feel the wind of his arms swooping over my head. Missing like that would have unbalanced most people, but the Strength in his front leg alone is enough to keep him from tipping forward.

  Until my leg sweeps out faster than he can react. His head cracks audibly against the pavement and rebounds for another hit. Looking away from his glazed eyes, I spring back up with my arms crossed in front of my chest, only to throw them away from me as I reach full height. The sides of my hands plow into Pocked Face and Asian Man before they can react with their own undoubtedly fine-tuned Speed. I can feel their vertebrae quiver under the force.

  Both men drop bonelessly.

  The other three are only steps away. From behind the truck I can see Celia’s head jump over to the passenger’s seat. I dash to the Bronco and slide in before the two men I knocked out hit the ground. Rubber burns as I jam the gas pedal down. We’re turning a corner way too sharply before I look back and realize they aren’t following us. Not with Celia in the car with me. My speed drops only enough to let me pull onto the main road without rolling.

  Only seconds passed between putting Celia in the cab and jumping in myself, but I feel as if I have just run a dozen marathons. Celia, though, is texting away on her cell phone.

  “What are you doing? You’re not telling Milo about that are you?” I ask. It’s shocking how shaky my voice is.

  Celia sends her message and flips her phone closed. “Tell Milo? Are you kidding me? If he finds out about those Guardians, he’ll be glued to your side thinking he can protect you somehow. I’d really never see him then, and as great as I think Milo is, he’s obviously no match for those guys.”

  She understands. I don’t know why Milo can’t see the truth as easily. “What were you doing then?”

  “Just texting Milo that we’re heading back to the motel. He wanted to know when we were done so we could meet back up. I told you, he only leaves your side to avoid dress shopping and to sleep.” Her phone chimes with what I suspect is an answer from Milo. Celia checks it and sinks into her seat. “He’s on his way.”

  I feel as relieved as Celia looks. Whether Milo can protect me in some way or not, I feel safer with him near me. Very near me. My speed picks back up with the promise of Milo’s arms slipping around me.

  “You handled that really well, Celia. I was worried you were going to freak out,” I say.

  She leans her head back, and says, “Yeah, well, you get used to it after a while.”

  “What?”

  Celia cringes. “I…never mind.”

  My fingers grip the steering wheel harder than necessary. Eventually somebody is going to tell me what drove them from their home in Ohio to the Southwestern desert.

  Chapter 16

  Demands

  Milo is waiting for us when we reach the motel. Sitting on the hood of his Corolla with his arms crossed over his chest, his stance perks up when we pull into the parking lot. He’s on his feet and at my door before I shift into park. As he pulls my door open I have to keep myself from simply collapsing into his arms. Instead I hop down daintily and wait for him to offer me a place against his chest. I don’t have to wait very long.

  It feels so good to press my body against his after the day I’ve had. Warm, strong, gentle, he holds me tightly, one of his hands drifting up to wind into the hair at the nape of my neck. I pull against him even tighter. Only the sound of Celia folding the seat down to get to our bags in the back reminds me of her presence. Apparently it reminds Milo too. He pulls back slowly, but lets his hands slide down to my hips instead of dropping away completely. Our eyes hold each other and I’m positive he can see my chest pulsing in and out more quickly than it should. Maybe I should care about that, but I just don’t. The corner of his mouth twitches and starts to turn up.

  “I’m thrilled to see you two getting all gooey over each other,” Celia says loudly, “but would someone mind opening the door so I can put this stuff down?”

  I can’t respond right away. Milo pulls back and snatches the keys from my hand. He wanders over to help his sister as if I’m forgotten. I watch him unlock the door for Celia before I can move away from the car. He waits for me at the door, giving me a little shove into the dim room.

  “So, do I get to see the dress?” Milo asks.

  Celia and I answer at the same time. “No.”

  “Fine,” he drawls. “Did you two have fun? There weren’t any problems, were there?”

  We both hesitate. “It was fine,” I say on top of Celia saying, “No, uh, no problems at all.”

  It sounds like she’s trying to avoid answering questions about Milo again. And if I recognize that, Milo won’t miss it either. We look at each other and I see the apology in her eyes.

  “What happened?” Milo demands.

  Neither of us answers.

  “What happened?” he asks, his voice growing louder. He knows I can hold out the longest, so he turns to his sister. “Celia?”

  The poor girl looks like she’s about to burst. She tries so hard to keep secrets, but it obviously just isn’t her strongest point. Even though I wanted very badly to know what she wouldn’t tell me about Milo today, I wouldn’t have wanted to be the reason she broke a promise to her brother. I don’t want to be the reason she breaks a promise now, either.

  I sit down on the bed, drawing Milo’s attention away from Celia. He looks at me expectantly. “Well?”

  “Guardians came after me in the parking lot when we were leaving.”

  It looks like he’s moving in slow motion. His hands clench. His jaw clamps down, making the veins in his neck bulge. Furious red spreads through his skin, shocking me with its intensity. It’s the most reaction I’ve ever seen out of him.

  “President Howe told them to leave you alone. Were they Lazaro’s men?” Milo asks through his teeth.

  I shake my head. “I can’t say for sure, but it seems likely. I didn’t exactly stop to ask them where their allegiances lie.”

  He growls angrily. “Tell me what happened.”

  “As soon as we came out of the mall they started closing in on me.” My voice is surprisingly calm. It’s really just more of what I’ve been dealing with my whole life, I guess.

  “How did they find you? We’ve been watching so closely for spies.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t know, Milo. I’m not exactly hiding by going to the mall. There are Guardians there all the time for security. One of them must have called it in.”

  Unclenching his hands, he runs them through his hair in frustration. “What else?”

  “There were six of them.”

  Milo hisses through his teeth.

  “They tried to come at me all at once, but a few eager beavers rushed in first,” I say.

  “Giving you the chance to take the first ones out before the others got there,” he finishes. “Celia, were you hurt at all?”

  “Nope,” she says cheerfully, “I was driving the Bronco.”

  He starts to object, but my own expression stops him. “Don’t you dare,” I say.

  “She told you about driving in the hills, didn’t she?”

  I nod. “They weren’t there for Celia, so I got her in the car as fast as I could. By the time she’d backed out, I had the first three down. The others were far enough back that I was able to get to the Bronco before they reached me.”

  Celia bounces over to her brother. “You should have seen her, Milo. It was awesome. Scary, but very cool. She kicked the first guy’s leg
out from under him so fast I didn’t even see her move. Then with the next two,” she says, pausing to mimic the crisscross motion I had used, “she whacked them in the neck, and they dropped like jellyfish.”

  Milo waits as patiently as he can through Celia’s description. He obviously doesn’t share in her fascination. “The three you took down, were they still alive?” he asks. The question is cold and brutal. His tone makes me shiver.

  So does the memory of the first guy’s head slamming into the pavement. Not to mention the other two’s necks. “I…I don’t know. They’re Guardians, so they have Strength, but even that can only do so much.”

  My words have little effect on Milo’s already tense demeanor. Celia, however, loses all her excitement. “You think they might be dead? I…I didn’t even…” She lowers herself back down to the bed. “Are the police going to come after us? What are we going to do?”

  “There won’t be any police, Celia, calm down,” Milo says irritably.

  “H-how can you be sure?” she begs.

  Milo’s eyes fly to his sister’s. “We’ve been through this before, Celia,” he snaps. “Guardians never leave their own to be found by police. They take care of bodies themselves. That’ll be especially true when it comes to Libby. They weren’t supposed to touch her yet.”

  Neither of them reacts to his first sentence, but I am rocked by it. They have been through dead Guardians before?

  “Anything else?” Milo asks.

  I shake my head weakly. At least Lazaro’s men failed. Maybe losing a few of his loyal drones will put his scheming on hold for a while.

  His feet carry him back and forth across the room three times before he stops and faces me. Every step is brusque and measured. He’s taking command. The realization shocks me. Where did this alternate Milo come from? The Milo I know enjoys antagonizing Lance and his teachers, but couldn’t care less about what’s happening around him. Milo turns on his heel and faces me, his expression completely focused.

  “Okay. This is what we’re going to do. You should be safe enough at school, but I’m walking you to every one of your classes from now on. After school, we’re training. Nights are a problem. I may be able to stay at least a couple of nights during the week, me disappearing is nothing new, but the other nights…”