Braden is going to have to get groceries, eventually.
My stomach rumbles, and I contemplate sneaking away for a quick bite to eat. I have to be back at the training house by one o’clock to keep working with Hammond on identifying Seekers. His Perception isn’t the strongest I’ve ever seen. Concealment, on the other hand, that guy is incredible. I have to really work to find him when he tries to elude me. I think he could walk into a crowded restaurant in Uptown buck naked and go completely unnoticed. I’m learning as much from him as he is from me. I check my phone and realize I only have an hour before I’m due back. Lunch can wait. I don’t want to leave yet.
I pick up the latest intel report and glance at it with one eye still on Braden’s front door. I’m considering whether or not the Seeker who eats lunch every day at a local Mexican restaurant is high enough up on the Seeker chain to be worth grabbing when a black sedan rolls up next to Braden’s house. Its dark tinted windows and general bullet proof appearance sets me on edge immediately. My hand is on the door, but I don’t push it open quite yet. I wait until I see the clean shaven head of a rather ragged looking Blackwood step out.
Concealment rages through me. Thanks to Hammond’s unusual techniques, I douse myself in a mask that pulls me into the background of anyone’s mind that might look at me. It works even better than what I used before. I’m not actually invisible, or anything, but not only does it make me harder to notice, it actually diverts people’s minds from looking in my direction. I slip out of my Bronco and creep across the street, close enough to hear Blackwood calling for Braden through the door. For the first time in a week, I find myself truly praying Braden doesn’t come out.
Like always, nobody cares what I think. The door cracks open. Braden peers out at his former Captain with wary eyes. It’s the completely wrong time, but heaven help me, he looks good. The stubble on his face is new, and not at all a bad look for him. His eyes blink at the bright sunlight, but the little flashes of the clear blue of his eyes sends a profound ache through me. I only wish there wasn’t so much pain in them.
“Braden,” Blackwood says, “I was expecting your report days ago.”
“There’s nothing to report. I failed.”
Blackwood grinds his jaw together, which must be painful given the bruises I left on him that are still dotting his jaw. I’m only sorry I didn’t do more. Stupid, psychotic madman. My fists ball up with the desire to pound on his face a little more.
“What do you mean you failed?” Blackwood asks. “If you had failed, you would be dead. Since you’re not, I think you must be lying to me again. What, are you trying to oppose the Oath? Is that why you look like crap? It won’t work. You know that.”
“I’m not trying to oppose anything, Blackwood. I went. I followed your twisted Oath and tracked her down. I couldn’t kill her.”
“Then why aren’t you dead!”
“Because I’m not, okay? That’s the end of it, so leave me alone.” Braden attempts to close the door on him, but Blackwood shoves it back open.
He grabs Braden and slams him up against the door frame. I’m on the edge of my toes, ready to finish what I started with Blackwood, whether I dent Braden’s pride any more than I already have or not.
“Don’t try to walk away from me, Braden. You are a traitor, and my subordinate. You aren’t done with this mission until I tell you that you are. Do you understand me?” he shouts.
Braden’s eyes light up with a fire that wasn’t there before. He clamps his own hand down on top of Blackwood’s and slowly forces it away. Impressive, actually, since I’m positive Blackwood must be tapping his Strength. There’s no talent to back Braden up, but his own physical strength isn’t weak, either. Maybe Lance was right about that part, at least. Blackwood sneers at the man who used to be his pupil with unrestrained malice.
“I,” Braden spits, “am not your subordinate anymore. You have no claim over me. Get off my property. Now.”
Blackwood cackles at him. “Are you quitting? Is that what you’re telling me?”
He rips the front of Braden’s shirt like it was tissue paper, exposing the crisscrossing scars left there from the last time he disobeyed an order. “You don’t get to quit the Guardians, remember, Braden? There’s no way out. You’re in for life, and I’m going to make the rest of it miserable as Hell. You will finish your mission, or you will pay dearly for it.”
“No,” Braden says, “I won’t.”
Blackwood loses it. He throws Braden to the ground and cocks back a fist that will likely demolish Braden’s face. The only thing that saves Braden is his quick reflexes. As soon as he hits the ground, his body lurches to the side, knocking out Blackwood’s poorly planted knee. He looks so slow as he scrambles back up to his feet. Despite catching his captain off guard, Blackwood has him again before he can escape and kicks his legs out from under him. Braden lands with a thud, gasping for the breath that was just knocked out of him.
I can’t wait any longer. I rise from my hiding place and aim myself straight at Blackwood’s throat. Before I can move, Braden’s hand shoots up and catches another of Blackwood’s fists. He can’t match his Strength, but he’s grabbing Blackwood with his right hand. The sight of Braden’s wrist stops Blackwood cold. He rocks back on his heels, and Braden doesn’t let the opportunity pass him by. Getting to his feet quickly, he edges away from him.
“What happened to you?” Blackwood asks. “Did she do that?”
Braden doesn’t say anything.
“Did she do that to you?” he screams. He grabs Braden again and yanks his face right in front of his own. “Did that psychotic abomination do that to you?”
He may refuse to see me anymore, but he still isn’t willing to betray what I can really do. His silence infuriates Blackwood, who looks like he’s about to strike him again. Finally, Braden speaks.
“Watch it, Blackwood, I’m not one of your men anymore. I’m just another nobody to protect. You hurt me, and you’ll be breaking the Oath you pretend you made to serve and protect.” Braden’s eyes dart around to the spattering of neighbors watching the scene play out either through the safety of their windows or from out on the street. “They’ve already seen enough to start asking questions. How many more should they ask?”
A sane person would back down at this point. I don’t think anyone would ever accuse Blackwood of being sane. Fury bursts out of him, and I start running across the lawn as he moves to smash Braden into the ground. A sharp, cold voice freezes us both.
“Leave him, Blackwood. There are too many witnesses.”
My head whips around to find the source of such a malevolent voice. Seeing the thin, perfect face, slicked back blond hair, and clear blue eyes that go with the voice, completely devoid of emotion or empathy isn’t what makes my vision swim. I didn’t realize I’d tapped every one of my talents. Perception illuminates the halo of constant Vision tapping around the man, making him look like a specter of death marching up the drive. I am too stunned by the sheer power of this man’s talents, this Seeker’s talents, to move as he approaches Braden. Braden stands stock still, frozen in his fear.
Blackwood steps back immediately, and I can feel the terror seeping out of both him and Braden. Whoever this guy is, even Blackwood is afraid of him. That thought truly chills me. The Seeker takes Braden’s right hand and inspects his wrist very thoroughly. He stares at Braden thoughtfully for several seconds before turning back to Blackwood.
“We’re leaving,” he states with the same emotionless tenor.
“But, Drake …”
The black gaze the Seeker levels at Blackwood shuts him up immediately. They both start walking away in silence, Blackwood trailing behind like a wounded puppy. But the Seeker doesn’t leave it at that. He turns back to Braden and says, “This won’t be the last time we meet, young man.”
My brain turns back on, and I know immediately that this is the man we have to kidnap. I have enough sense to snatch my phone out of my pocket and snap a quick, silen
t picture of him before he turns away. He slips back into the car like a ghost and they drive away. My whole body shivers in relief. I turn back and find Braden looking directly at me even though I still have my Concealment firmly in place.
“Go home, Libby. I can take care of myself.”
He darts back inside before I can say anything. I’m left staring at his front door. I don’t know what to make of him knowing I was here, but one thing I do know for sure is that Braden definitely cannot take care of himself. Sure, he fended off Blackwood for a while. Maybe he could even kill him if he really set his mind to it, but that soulless Seeker will grind him into the carpet with barely a glance. Braden can’t defend himself against that man. I’m not even sure I can.
Chapter 12
Evaluation
As usual, my mind is a million miles away from where it’s supposed to be. I should be focusing on the hearing going on around me. I should be listening to the school district’s lawyer as he argues the many reasons I shouldn’t be let back into school. I should be concentrating on what my defense will be. Instead, I am sketching a picture of the Seeker, Drake, that I want to kidnap. His dead, frightening eyes stare back at me from the paper. Just thinking of him makes me want to crawl into bed with a stuffed animal and blame my shivers on a monster under the bed.
I know he can show me everything I need to know. What I don’t know is who he is. For nearly a week we have tried everything to figure out who he is. Not a single trace of him on the internet. No public appearances, no interviews, no formal title laid out in professional type, nothing. He is a ghost among a brotherhood of nightmares.
I know there must be some facial recognition software, or something, capable of figuring out who this guy is, but if there is, it’s probably in the hands of the Guardians and no one else. The only other chance at figuring out who he is will be waiting for him to show back up at Braden’s like he promised. How long will that take? I have no idea, maybe too long.
My name being called drags me back to the situation at hand. I almost didn’t bother with all of this, but the fact that support for me among people my age is growing faster than I ever expected pushed me to follow through. The school has become a perfect place to meet with new recruits or to plan and exchange information safely. The lack of Guardians and media make it a better option than anywhere else. Not to mention my being out in public will help dispel rumors about Howe killing me and let people see who I really am. This hearing has a similar purpose.
I push my chair back and stand up. The panel of school board representatives stares at me anxiously. I can’t believe anything I will say today is going to change their minds. They think I should be locked up like the rest of the world. I’d just walk out if I could, but I can’t. I feel like giving up on school will be an admission by me that it doesn’t matter if I graduate because I’m never going to live long enough for it to be an issue, but even more because it is a perfect place to finally tell the truth. I believe I’m going to make this world better, and hopefully not destroy myself in the process, but now I need everyone else to believe it, too.
The panel waits quietly.
“Look,” I say frankly, “I know the school district’s lawyer gave a lot of really great reasons why I shouldn’t be allowed back at school. I know that hardly anyone actually wants me there. You all think I’m dangerous and just waiting to, I don’t know, disintegrate the school with everyone in it or something, but I’m not. I want to be at school. I want to graduate, and no matter what that other guy just said, you really don’t have any good reasons for keeping me out.”
One brave board member opens his mouth as if to say something, but it doesn’t quite make it past his lips. I don’t wait for him to find his voice.
“I haven’t caused any problems at school in the past year. I don’t ditch, or cheat, or smoke pot in the girls’ bathroom. Nothing in the school handbook or district laws give you a reason to keep me out,” I say.
Finally, the little man who tried to speak a moment ago clears his throat. “What about the two days of school you missed two weeks ago? Those were not excused absences. The Concealment Officers attempted to find you, but you weren’t home and your mother had no idea where you might be. That in itself is enough reason for this hearing.”
“I don’t live with my mom anymore. I tried to tell the school that, but they didn’t listen to me. I haven’t lived with my mom since she kicked me out last year. And I couldn’t have my absences excused, despite having an emergency that took me out of the country, because my mom and I are not on speaking terms. She’s the only parent I have left, but she wouldn’t write me an excuse to save my life,” I snap at the balding man.
He shrinks back from me, but stammers out another question. “If you don’t live with your mother, who do you live with? You must have some other guardian.”
“I live by myself,” I say. “Nobody else was willing to take me in.” That’s not entirely true, but what the heck, maybe sympathy will work since logic and law don’t seem to be getting me any brownie points with these people.
Whether they feel bad for me or not, nobody speaks for several minutes. I feel my chances starting to crumble in the silence. A tall woman wearing a blue blazer with a ruffled blouse beneath it forces herself to face me. Her words are as crisp as her appearance.
“What emergency kept you from going to school two weeks ago, the eleventh and twelfth of August? A Thursday and Friday, I believe.”
A moment of fear captures me. This could be a huge mistake. Only something truly shocking is going to make them look at me as something other than a promise of death. I need to convince them that I’m trying to save people, not hurt them. Not unless I absolutely have to.
So, I do what I came here to do. I tell them the truth.
All five members of the disciplinary panel sit at rigid attention through my entire, highly annotated, explanation of everything that has happened over the last year. I can see the doubt in their eyes when I tell them about the Ciphers—except for the elderly woman on the end—and the Sihirs, especially. Funnily enough, the cruelty of the Guardians doesn’t shock them nearly as much as I thought it would. I guess I’m not the only one who didn’t have a super high opinion of them to start with. They control the world through fear, not respect. When I get to freeing the Ciphers, but losing the eighty-seven to the Seekers, every one of them reacts in some way. Disbelief, anger, grief—at least they’re listening. I don’t mention Milo killing the nameless Seeker.
I reach the end and simply fold my arms across my chest. There’s nothing else I can really say. The elderly woman on the end is the first to speak. “That’s where they all went,” she says softly. “I went to the spirit world last week, and it was completely empty. My dearest friend, Elisa, wasn’t there anymore. I had no idea what had happened.”
“Elisa Davenport? She’s in a town outside of London, ma’am. I’ll give you contact information later if you want. I’m sure she’d be happy to hear from you,” I say hopefully. The woman nods with relief. Too bad they aren’t all Spiritualists.
The room falls quiet as the others consider what to do with me. Hushed words are exchanged between them for a few minutes before growing more heated. A self-important looking man in a double breasted suit is slowly turning red as he argues with the woman in the blazer. The bald guy rubs his head as he thinks. The fifth, a younger woman who looks unsure of what’s going on is asking the old lady about something. I don’t know how long they really argue, but it feels like ten years before the blazer lady finally calls for a vote.
All I need is a majority. Elisa’s friend raises her hand in favor of letting me go back to school. I smile as warmly as I can at her. Blazer Lady raises her hand as well. The bald guy and younger woman both look unsure. The two men are sitting next to each other and the angry man in the suit is practically yelling at the other one to vote against me. I don’t know if he actually believes anything I’ve said or he just wants to get away from that lunatic,
but the bald guy finally raises his hand and scoots his chair away. I don’t really need her vote, but the younger woman raise her hand as well, muttering about me having the best excuse she’s ever heard for missing class, whether it’s true or not.
The angry man pushes his chair back and storms out as soon as the blazer lady makes the vote official. I get to rejoin the torment of public high school. Yeah for me. I hate school, but I smile anyway. My smile only lasts until I stand up and turn around. Blackwood glares at me from the back of the room. Images of him trying to beat Braden to a pulp flash through my mind, making my fist tighten around the chair I was about to push back in. The smooth, old wood creaks under the pressure. Attacking him in front of everyone will not only get me kicked out of school again, it will get me arrested. As he stands stoically at the back of the room, waiting, I realize that’s exactly what he’s trying to bait me into doing.
The wood of the chair groans in relief as I release it. I have to force myself to push the chair in calmly, pick up my purse, and pick up the stack of papers I’d been given at the beginning of this thing. That’s about as far as I get. Turning around and walking out past him is going to get me, I’m sure. I won’t get within ten feet of him and be able to stop myself from punching him right in the face.
The older woman who asked about her friend saves me from having to face Blackwood quite yet.
She looks leery of actually approaching me, but I smile and close the last few feet between us myself. As calmly as she can manage, she introduces herself and asks if I could really put her in touch with her friend, Elisa. I’m pretty sure she’ll faint if I touch her. Moving slowly so I don’t startle her, I take a pen and scrap of paper out of my purse and copy down the number for the handler in England. I explain about not being able to give her too many specifics, but that the handler will get her in contact with her friend. She looks a little less afraid once she has the number in hand.
Darkening Chaos: Book Three of The Destroyer Trilogy Page 10