Trembling

by V. J. Chambers

  I sighed and kissed him again. "Maybe," I said, "if we're just really quiet . . ."

  Jason kissed me. "He'll kill us," he said.

  "Yeah," I said. Stupid Hallam.

  A voice called out my name from the living room. But it wasn't Hallam.

  It was Lilith.

  Stupid Lilith. Grr. Jason and I never had any time alone together. And here she was, ruining everything.

  "Augh," I groaned. "It's Lilith."

  Jason sat up. "Guess we need to see what she wants."

  Lilith was moving through the house, calling my name. She knocked on my door. "Azazel?" she asked.

  "Yeah?" I said, trying to sound as annoyed as I felt, but finding that there was no tone of voice quite strong enough.

  "It's me," she said.

  "One second," I said. Jason and I put ourselves back in order, and I opened the door. "Hi, Lilith." I glared at her.

  "Oh," she said. "Was I interrupting something?"

  I didn't answer.

  "I'm so sorry," she said.

  "It's okay," said Jason from behind me, straightening the edge of his shirt. "You didn't know."

  Why was Jason telling her it was okay? It was not okay. It was anything but okay. I wished like hell that Lilith was not in my house. "What do you need?" I asked her.

  "I just . . ." she trailed off. "You know, maybe I should go watch some TV or something."

  "No," said Jason, "don't be silly."

  Don't be silly?! What was wrong with him?

  "It's too late," I said. "Besides, it would be weird with you here. Just tell me what you need."

  "I was wondering if I could use your computer?" she asked. "To check email and stuff?"

  "Fine," I said. "It's in the living room. Knock yourself out." She could see the damned thing. Why come ask me about it?

  Lilith looked at the carpet. "Um . . . I don't know the password."

  I sighed heavily, but I gave her the password.

  "Thanks," said Lilith. "You guys go back to what you were doing." She pulled the door closed.

  What we were doing? Not bloody likely. I looked at Jason. He looked at me. He shrugged. "Soon," he said.

  "It's been like three weeks," I said.

  "I know that," he said. He kissed my forehead. Then he left my bedroom.

  I plopped down on my bed.

  "Azazel?" called Lilith from the living room.

  "What?" I demanded.

  "Do you mind if I sign on to the AOL Instant Messenger?"

  "No," I said. "No, that's fine. Do whatever you want."

  Clearly, she would anyway.

  Chapter Four

  To: Renegade Son

  From: Edgar Weem

  Subject: Re: Monthly update

  Hallam,

  I appreciate the update. I know you have a soft spot for Jason, but you must realize that the boy is not what he appears to be. Please continue to keep an eye on him. If the situation escalates, especially the violence, it may be necessary for us to step in. Of course, we'll try to avoid that at all costs.

  Edgar

  I waited until the last possible second to get to detention, so I was almost late. Mr. Sutherland met me at the door to his classroom. He smiled at me. "Hi Azazel," he said. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't show up."

  I looked past him into the classroom. Several other students were sitting inside at the desks. I didn't recognize any of them. None of them looked particularly like people I wanted to get to know either. There was a burly guy with a bandana tied around his head. He was wearing several large gold chains. One guy was wearing a white tank top which showed off his tattoo-covered arms. Another guy had greasy hair pulled into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. There were two girls as well. They both wore large hoop earrings and lots of makeup. None of them looked at me as I came inside and sat down.

  This was stupid. I did not belong in detention. I hadn't done anything wrong. I was a good kid. I made good grades. I did not belong here with all these delinquents.

  Mr. Sutherland shut the door to his classroom. "Well," he said, "today in detention, one of you will be alphabetizing my books by author." He gestured to a large bookshelf which was groaning under the weight of all the books on it. Mr. Sutherland had to be kidding. "The others will be scrubbing down my desks."

  Ugh. Why did Mr. Sutherland have to make detention into work?

  The burly bandana guy raised his hand. "Hey, isn't there some law that you can't make us do manual labor?"

  Mr. Sutherland shrugged. "I'm not really familiar with your American laws," he said, smiling.

  "Bullshit," said the tattooed guy.

  "Watch your language," said Mr. Sutherland. "Anymore of that and I'll have you after school for another day." He smiled. "Now. Would anyone like to volunteer to alphabetize?"

  No one said anything.

  "Fine," said Mr. Sutherland, "then, Azazel, I think that's a good job for you. I'm certain you know the alphabet. I don't know about the rest of these guys."

  Thanks, Mr. Sutherland. Insult the rest of the people in detention at my expense. That would make this a great, great experience for me. What a jerk!

  But I got up and went to the bookshelf. While Mr. Sutherland instructed the other students in the technique he wanted them to use to wash the desks off, I began pulling all of the books off the bookshelf. Within a few minutes, I was surrounded by stacks of books. I sat down Indian style on the ground and began going through them, looking for authors whose last names were at the beginning of the alphabet. I was astonished when one of the books I picked up was Holy Blood, Holy Grail, by Michael Baigent, Richard Leigh, and Henry Lincoln. I'd read this book sometime last year, in the wake of my literary love affair with Dan Brown and The Da Vinci Code. It was the book on which Dan Brown had based his book. The book was extremely intriguing, all about the Holy Grail, secret societies, and conspiracy theories. That kind of stuff used to really interest me. Until I met Jason, and I found out that the Sons were the real thing. Secret societies were interesting when I didn't have to intimately interact with them. It was weird that Mr. Sutherland had this book.

  I held it my hands, turning it over and staring at it, memories rushing back to me. It had only been a few years ago that I'd read it, but it seemed like forever. I'd been so young and silly then. I remembered having passionate conversations with my dad about the book, trying to convince him that there really were secret societies behind the scenes, pulling hidden strings. He'd just laughed at me. Everyone had. In the end, it had turned out that I was right. I half-wished I hadn't been.

  "Would you like to borrow that book?" Mr. Sutherland asked.

  He was standing directly over me.

  I looked up at him, startled. "Um, no," I said, "that's okay. I've read it already."

  Mr. Sutherland crouched down so that he was on my level. "You have?" he asked, sounding pleasantly surprised.

  "Yeah," I said. "I used to be really into that kind of thing."

  "That kind of thing?"

  "Secret societies and stuff," I said.

  "Oh," said Mr. Sutherland. "Well, it happens to be one of my interests as well." He began searching through the stacks of books I'd made. "I have several books on various similar subjects. A few on the Knights Templar, some on Freemasonry. I'd be happy to let you borrow them."

  I shook my head. "That's okay, Mr. Sutherland," I said. "It was just kind of a phase. I'm not into it anymore."

  "Really?" he said.

  I nodded, going back to the books.

  "Is that why you took the bell?" he asked.

  "What?" I said, looking back up at him.

  "The bell," said Mr. Sutherland. "It has an engraving on it. Very intriguing. It reminded me of something . . ." He began paging through the book he was holding. "In here somewhere . . . Yes. Here it is." He showed me the book. On the page was a picture very similar to the engraving on the bell. It was a picture of the run rising over water.

  My heart started to beat faster.
"What is that?" I asked.

  "It's a picture associated with an ancient secret society from the Renaissance," said Mr. Sutherland. "They've long since died out. There were called the Rising Suns or something like that."

  I swallowed. "Really?" I managed.

  "Did you see the resemblance as well?" he asked. "Quite remarkable, really. I wonder where Mr. Dingle acquired that bell."

  "I didn't . . ." I trailed off, shaking my head.

  Mr. Sutherland smiled. "Oh, of course. You told Mr. Dingle you didn't take the bell, didn't you?"

  "I didn't take the bell," I said. I felt like I was strangling. I could hardly breathe, let alone speak.

  "Of course you didn't," said Mr. Sutherland. "Would you like to borrow this book?"

  I nodded.

  He offered it to me. "Anytime that you'd like to talk conspiracy theories, just let me know," said Mr. Sutherland. "You're a very intriguing young lady, Azazel. Very intelligent."

  I snatched the book out of his hands. "Thank you," I said, my voice shaking.

  Mr. Sutherland's lips curved into a deep smile. "Certainly," he said.

  He stood up and went back to supervising the other students.

  I looked down at the book he'd given me, my hands trembling. Oh my God. Why hadn't I seen it before? I was so stupid. Mr. Sutherland. He was from England. I'd found the bell in his class. And he was interested in secret societies?

  Mr. Sutherland was a member of the Sons. It was so obvious to me now. He was after me. And now I had to spend every day this week in his classroom for detention. Surely he wouldn't hurt me in front of these other students. Would he?

  It made sense. He was here to watch both Jason and me. That was why we both had him as a teacher. And he had planted that bell in my purse himself. He'd wanted to get me into detention somehow. He was planning something. What was he planning? Why had he done it? What were the Sons going to do to me?

  He'd even mentioned the Sons. He'd gotten the name slightly wrong, of course, but that hardly mattered. He'd sent me the message loud and clear. I knew what was going on. He must know that I knew. I stared at the books I was supposed to be alphabetizing, too terrified to move. At any second, I expected Mr. Sutherland to whip out a gun and shoot us all. Any second.

  But detention just dragged on. Mr. Sutherland didn't do anything else suspicious. And eventually, I even went back to alphabetizing. By the time it was time for me to leave, I had even gotten all of them back on the shelf, in alphabetical order.

  Mr. Sutherland dismissed us from detention, but as I was heading for the door, he said, "Azazel, would you stay a second?"

  No. I wouldn't. I couldn’t. This was it. If I stayed, he would take out his gun. Calmly shoot me between the eyes. Step over my body. Leave the school. No one would ever hear from him again. "Okay," I said.

  Mr. Sutherland handed me a slip of paper. "This is my address," he said. "I wouldn't give it to just anyone, but I feel like we have a little bit of a connection. You're a special girl. I have more books like the one I lent you at home. Stop by sometime. I can let you borrow them."

  Go to his house? Was he crazy? Did he think I was stupid? If I went there, he'd kill me for sure. I wasn't going anywhere near his house. He should realize that. Luckily, at that second, my cell phone rang. That was probably Jude, who was waiting to take me to work. "I have to go, Mr. Sutherland," I said. "Someone's waiting for me."

  "Okay," said Mr. Sutherland, smiling easily. "Just hang onto my address though. Drop by anytime."

  It took all my will not to run out of the room. Instead, I walked. I took very large steps, and I got out of there as soon as I could. I got into Jude's car, still clutching the slip of paper that Mr. Sutherland had given me.

  "Hey," said Jude. "You look freaked. What happened?"

  I shook my head. I couldn't talk about this with Jude. I wanted to beg off work and go see Jason immediately. Jason would have to believe me now. And he'd know what to do. "Nothing," I said.

  I'd be safe at work, though. It was a public place. There were lots of people there. The Sons wouldn't risk trying to kill me in such a populated building. I could go to work. I would. If I didn't, it would look weird. Jude might get suspicious. I couldn't put Jude in danger.

  "What are you holding?" Jude asked. "Looks like you've got a death grip on it."

  "Mr. Sutherland's address," I said. "He asked me to go to his house."

  Jude made a face. "Eew," he said. "Why'd he do that?"

  I shrugged. "He wanted to give me some books."

  "Oh," said Jude, looking disappointed. "I thought maybe he was like a pedophile or something. It would have been fun to get him fired."

  If I thought getting Mr. Sutherland fired would have made any difference, I would have been all for it. "Let's just go to work," I said. "I hate detention."

  * * *

  When I got home from work, it was after midnight, so I knew that both Jason and Hallam would be asleep. I was planning on waking Jason up anyway, though. What I'd found out was too important. He needed to know. After I'd told him, he'd probably want to wake up Hallam as well, but for now, I'd just tell Jason. I didn't know what was going to happen. Were we going to have to go on the run again? I didn't want to. I'd been happy here in Florida. We'd been settled. Still, it clearly wasn't safe here. We'd have to do what we had to do.

  I was shocked when Jude dropped me off, and I saw that the lights were still on in our apartment. When I walked in the door, I heard the sounds of laughter. Jason and Lilith were sitting next to each other on the couch. Lilith was laughing so hard that she was resting her forehead on Jason's shoulder.

  I couldn't believe it. Why were they still awake? Jason knew we had school in the morning. I cleared my throat.

  Jason and Lilith both looked up at me.

  "Hey Zaza," said Lilith, her voice still full of laughter.

  God. Why couldn't she stop calling me that? I glared at her.

  "You two look like you're having fun," I said.

  "What time is it?" said Jason.

  "It's after midnight," I said.

  "Really?" said Jason. "Wow. Lilith and I have been talking. I guess we lost track of time." He smiled at her. "I should probably go to bed."

  She grinned back. "I didn't mean to keep you up."

  "It's okay," said Jason.

  "Actually," I said. "I have something to tell you, Jason."

  "Okay," he said. "What's up?"

  "I don't want to tell you in front of Lilith," I said.

  "How come?" asked Jason.

  "It's about the Sons," I said.

  "Oh, that's cool," said Jason. "I told her all about that stuff."

  "You did?"

  "She wanted to know what happened after we left Bramford. I filled her in," said Jason.

  Lilith shook her head, horror all over her face. "Wow, Zaza. That shit was crazy. I can't believe Jason's mother is such a bitch."

  He told her about Michaela Weem? He'd been talking to her all night? They'd been laughing together? I remembered what Jude had asked me the day before in Mr. Sutherland's class. Was I worried that Lilith would sleep with Jason? I hadn't been. I wasn't. I trusted Jason. But I didn't trust Lilith. Not at all.

  "Yeah," I said. "I can't believe it either."

  "So, it's cool," said Jason. "Sit down. Tell me what you need to tell me."

  I really didn't want to tell Lilith about this. It was none of her business. And if we did go on the run, Lilith was not coming with us. The Sons would leave her alone. She would only slow us down.

  I started at the beginning, telling Jason everything that had happened in detention. I showed him the picture in the book that Mr. Sutherland had given me. When I was finished, I sat down on the couch. "So, you think we should wake up Hallam?" I asked.

  Jason didn't say anything.

  "Zaza, you're paranoid," said Lilith.

  I was not paranoid! I didn't respond, however, waiting for Jason to defend me. He'd see the seriousness of the situ
ation. Lilith couldn't understand.

  "That's not how I'd put it," said Jason. He turned to Lilith. "She's been through hell, Lilith. She saw her parents murdered right in front of her face."

  Wait. Why didn't this sound entirely like he was defending me?

  "Azazel," said Jason, "I don't think Mr. Sutherland is a member of the Sons."

  "But the book," I protested. "And the bell. And I found it in his classroom."