Waging War

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Waging War Page 4

by April White


  My mom agreed to leave a little early for our tea with the Armans so we could stop by the address in Pimlico where Tam’s friends lived. I could tell Jeeves didn’t like it, but he just clenched his jaw and took us into town.

  I told my mom what Mr. Shaw and Connor had said about the cure, and she’d already heard much of it from Mr. Shaw directly. She said he’d been proud of Connor for discovering the telomere anomaly, and it had set them on a whole new course of research. Even better, they weren’t focused on mixing Descendant blood anymore, so the Council couldn’t condone Monger action against either of them.

  “The Mongers have to be stopped, though, Mom. You guys can’t let them be the Descendant police force.”

  She frowned. “We know that, Saira. As I told you, it’s one of the things I’ve been discussing with Camille, and we hope to engage MacKenzie in as well.”

  “The Shifter Head seems like kind of a bully.”

  She smirked because it was true. The current Head of the Shifter clans was a Highland Bull, and everything about him screamed it. “He is, but one of his sons seems reasonable.”

  The car glided to a stop in front of a small mews house. In the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, rich Londoners lived in terraced houses with mews at the back which opened onto a small service street. The mews included horse stables, a carriage house, and upstairs living quarters for the stable staff. The advent of cars and the world wars saw the end of stables, and they were eventually converted into housing called mews houses after the original King’s Mews at Charing Cross where the king’s falcons were kept. Ringo had been the source of that information, though in his thieving days the mews were still smelly horse stables at the backs of the grand houses.

  Olivia’s words ran through my mind as I walked up to the front door. Her friend Melanie Thomas and Melanie’s older brother, Cole, were distantly related to Tam through his mom. They had all been at St. George’s Square park when a lady’s little dog got off leash, and Tam crossed over to the river side to help her. The next thing Cole and Melanie saw, a white van with no windows screeched to a stop in front of them, blocking their view of Tam and the woman. After a few moments, the van sped away. Neither the woman, her dog, nor Tam was seen again.

  “What do you know about these two?” my mom asked quietly as I rang the bell.

  “Nothing of any substance.”

  Jeeves stood outside the car like a statue, and I knew that if I’d been inside the house, the sight of him outside would have kept me indoors and away from windows. “Hey, Jeeves. Could you take the car for a spin around the block, please? You’re pretty intimidating in your uniform.”

  He looked startled at that, but my mom smiled and nodded her agreement, and he reluctantly got back in the Range Rover and pulled away down the narrow cobblestone street. When the car was finally out of sight, I rang the bell again. This time I heard someone on the staircase, and a moment later the door opened cautiously. A black guy about my age, built like a broody Adam, looked at us with suspicion.

  “Hey,” I said with a nod. “Sorry about the driver.”

  “Who are you?” Despite his surly tone, there was a rolling West African lilt to his voice that sounded much nicer than his words.

  “Friend of a friend. Is Melanie in?”

  His eyes narrowed. “Why?”

  Something about the guy annoyed me, but I knew that was just unreasonable, so I added a smile to soften the snark he inspired in me. “Because I’m here to talk to both of you about what you didn’t tell the police about Tam. It’s just easier if I don’t have to repeat myself.”

  My mom tsked next to me. “Saira, that’s just rude.”

  The guy I assumed was Cole tossed his head at my mom without looking away from me. “She your mum?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why’d you bring her?”

  I shrugged. “Because she’s the Clocker Head and Tam’s not the only one who’s gone missing.”

  I knew I was taking a calculated risk, but if I was right and this guy knew anything at all about the Families, he’d know better than to shut the door in my mom’s face.

  The guy did shut the door in our faces. Not slammed. Shut. And just when my mom was about to ring the bell again in impatience, I held her arm. “No, wait. They’re coming.”

  The door opened again, and a girl about fourteen with short braided hair pulled on her coat and led the way outside. She held out her hand for me to shake. “I’m Melanie. Who are you?” Her West African lilt was softer than her brother’s.

  “Saira Elian. I’m a friend of Olivia’s from school.” I shook her hand and Cole followed his sister outside.

  Melanie started off down the street. “Come on. We’ll talk in the park.”

  My mom gave me a startled grin. I just shrugged and followed Melanie as she headed toward the river. St. George’s Square was a block away. Melanie waved to some nannies playing with toddlers at the far end, away from the street, but except for them, the park was deserted. Cole slouched along behind us – keeping his distance, but clearly not letting his sister out of his sight. According to Olivia, Tam and Cole were the ones who hung out together, but Melanie was taking the lead with us.

  We got to a bench and Melanie directed us to sit. She looked at my mom with interest. “Why do you care about Tam?”

  My mom ignored the question. “Where is Tam’s family? Have they gone to the police?”

  Melanie shot her a look with a snort attached to it. “He doesn’t have family. Just a dad who’s a drunk. Me and Cole, we’re his people.”

  Mom opened her mouth to speak, but I cut her off. “Like I told your brother, he’s not the only one who’s gone missing.”

  Melanie shifted her gaze to me. “The police act like he’s a runaway.”

  “Look, we’re trying to find the missing people. Olivia sent us to talk to you because she’s really worried about Tam and she knows we can help. But we need to know whatever you can tell us about that day.”

  This girl had a way about her that wasn’t exactly suspicious, but definitely wary. Both she and her brother stood like they were ready to bolt, but defiantly, as if running would be a choice, not a reaction. From our seat on the bench I could see Jeeves drive the Range Rover slowly by the park, and I realized he must be looking for us. I suddenly felt guilty for having sent him away.

  Melanie considered me for a moment longer, then finally spoke. “The lady with the dog – she tried to get me and Cole to help her look too. She was actually pretty adamant about it when she called to us across the street right before the white van pulled up.”

  I stared at her. “Are you guys mixed?”

  Cole finally spoke, and his tone was angry. “Race, or blood?”

  I opened my mouth to try to pull my foot out of it, but Melanie got up angrily. “Why’d you have to go and ask that?” She stalked away from the bench, but I finally found my voice and stepped in front of Cole before he could follow her.

  “I don’t care about race. I’m mixed-blood. That’s why I asked. And Tam is too, isn’t he? Olivia said he was part-Seer. If he is actually mixed, it could be why he was taken. And if you guys are too, you could still be in danger.”

  Cole glared at me. “We’re done here.” He pushed past me and ran after his sister. Mom grabbed my hand so I couldn’t follow. “Let them go, Saira. They’re scared.”

  The black Range Rover cruised past again, and I waved to it. “Poor Jeeves has been circling the park, looking for us. Let’s put him out of his misery.”

  I held her hand as we walked back to the street. I hadn’t done that since I was a kid and it felt comforting and solid, like she had my back and I had hers. The Range Rover slowed to a stop and she got into the back seat first. I had my mouth open to apologize to Jeeves as I shut the door behind me, but the words died in my throat as a wave of Monger gut hit me like a sledgehammer.

  Seth Walters smiled at me from the passenger seat.

  Monger

  “Lock the
doors,” Slick said calmly.

  Before I could throw the door open again, Jeeves had hit the master lock and I was trapped.

  “Child locks, please.” Slick’s voice was so casual it made my skin crawl. The click of the child-safety catch made it impossible for me to unlock my door, but worse, it meant Jeeves was doing what Slick wanted without even questioning it.

  I tore my eyes away from Slick to glance at my mom, which felt vaguely like looking away from a snake. She was staring at him in a trance-like way, and I wanted to slap her awake - then I saw the ring.

  Panic coursed through my veins like wildfire and I started banging on the window, half hoping I could break the glass. I remembered the last time my mom had been under the ring’s influence – it was as if she’d been programmed like an automaton. Sanda had said there were rumors the ring could cause a kind of hypnosis that would make people believe and do whatever the wearer told them.

  “There’s no need for dramatics, Miss Elian. It’s bulletproof glass, and you’re quite safe in this car.” His calm voice made me want to scream. I felt anything but safe.

  Wait. I felt anything but safe.

  He was telling me to feel safe, but I felt like life sucked more in this moment than possibly any other in a very long time. I looked over at my mom again. She had settled back in her seat and had a pleasant, placid look on her face. Jeeves was driving as if we were all out for a Sunday spin.

  And I. Didn’t. Feel. Safe.

  Did that mean the ring wasn’t working on me?

  Why wouldn’t it work on me?

  I stared at Slick, and the smile tightened in the corners of his mouth. We were crossing the Thames on the Vauxhall Bridge in the kind of traffic it’s easier to walk through, and when Jeeves finally turned left past the MI5 building, I knew where we were going.

  I fought every protective instinct I had about what Slick and his ring had just done to my mom, and I turned away from her to stare out the window. I could tell Slick expected something different from me, but he wasn’t going to get it. Not yet. Not until Mom and Jeeves were outside the range of the Monger ring.

  The Range Rover finally glided to a stop and Slick spoke in a not-so-pleasant voice. “Get out.”

  “You first, and then you tell them to go home.”

  Slick’s eyes narrowed fractionally. I guess I’d just busted myself in about a million different ways, but getting my mom and Jeeves to safety came first. I faced him grimly. “Just tell him to take her home as soon as I’ve left the car. Then shut the door and I’ll get out.”

  “How do I know you won’t run?”

  I gave him a don’t be an idiot look. “Because your goons followed us, because this is your ‘hood, and because I’m sick of running from you. Just do it, Seth. You know the Clocker Head can’t go missing.”

  He regarded me for a moment longer. “Unlock the doors,” he told Jeeves, then he got out of the car and threw a hand signal to the black SUV I’d seen behind us. Before he closed the passenger door, Slick spoke to Jeeves again. “When Saira gets out of the car, take Lady Elian home. Saira went back in time to go find someone, and she’s fine.” He slammed the door and shot a look at me. “Now you.”

  I resisted touching my mom’s hand when I looked at her. “Bye, Mom.”

  I did touch Jeeves’ shoulder as I got out of the car. I gave it a squeeze like I was trying to wake him up, and he met my eyes for a bare second in the rear-view mirror as I slid out of the back door. When I’d closed it behind me the Range Rover pulled smoothly away.

  Slick stood on the sidewalk like he was daring me to run, which I didn’t. I may have ignored the line between bravery and stupidity at times, but this was not one of them. I thought I saw someone resembling Cole at the corner, out of breath. Technically, I guess we’d been stuck in traffic long enough that he could have followed us, and if he didn’t do anything stupid, like get caught, there would be someone to report where I was. I drew Slick’s eyes to me so he wouldn’t notice Cole as I looked up at the building that housed his office. The arched windows of the second and third floors gave it the look of a strange monster that peered down at us balefully. Slick’s grip on my upper arm was too hard, but I didn’t say a word as he pulled me up to the front door, hit a button, glared up at a security camera, and when the lock buzzed open, he escorted me inside.

  On my previous visit inside Slick’s office building, Ringo and I had skipped the first floor and headed straight for the top. This time I was paying attention to every detail as we made our way to Slick’s personal office. He gestured for me to sit across from his desk as if I was a client, and he closed the door behind me. I saw someone’s shadow just outside the door and figured the goon squad had arrived.

  I mentally ran down what Slick could possibly know about me. I was a Clocker, obviously, but I didn’t think he’d ever seen me actually draw a spiral, so he probably thought I was like most Clockers who needed a pre-existing one in order to Clock. He knew I could run, which I’d done on Tower Bridge when I’d lost the Monger goon he sent after me, and one of his guys had seen me as a Cougar at Elian Manor, but Archer said they’d kept me out of the guy’s sight when I’d returned to my human form. I wasn’t wearing the Shifter Bone right now because … a Cougar in London. Yeah, no. But at this moment, I had a very strong desire for my Cat’s claws and Slick’s face to meet up and have a party.

  Slick was studying me as if I was something that baffled him. He looked a little like Daniel Craig from the James Bond movies in his expensive suit, and I thought he might be considered handsome if it weren’t for all the ugliness in his eyes.

  “Where’s my son?” he asked.

  Of everything I expected to come out of Seth Walters’ mouth, that was only slightly less surprising than an apology and an offer for tea would have been. I fought down an instant, boiling anger, just so I didn’t lose any tiny advantage I might have by saying something stupid.

  “Dead,” I said.

  “No, he’s not.”

  Wasn’t Slick just full of surprises today? “How do you know?”

  “I know.”

  The simple certainty with which he spoke sent a chill down my spine that had nothing to do with the Monger-gut I was currently wracked with in his presence.

  “Where are all the Descendants you’ve taken?” Since he wasn’t making sense, I decided to throw a non-sequitur at him for variety.

  He smiled slowly. “Why don’t we trade?”

  Huh?

  The slime in his voice practically coated the walls. “You get me what I want, and I’ll give you your missing mixed-bloods.”

  “They are all mixed,” I breathed.

  He sneered. “They’re abominations.”

  “We’re people. Abominations are things that are hated and reviled. You know … like you.”

  Sass was clearly winning over don’t-say-anything-stupid, and I could practically see Slick’s temper build. He spoke through gritted teeth.

  “Mixed-bloods are aberrations. Their skills are abnormal, they don’t behave or respond like proper Descendants, and even their Families don’t acknowledge them.”

  Something was starting to chime in my brain, but the hatred that was beginning to unfurl around the nausea in my guts obscured it. I tamped the hatred down firmly so it didn’t take over.

  “How’d you find them?” I managed to keep my tone almost totally even.

  “When you stole my genealogy, we had to start from scratch. Modern birth certificates in the internet age are so much more helpful in determining parentage than old church records were, and frankly, anyone who opposed us with the Council was fair game. Of course, capturing mixed-bloods required a bit more brute force than it would with someone less abberant.” He played with the dagger-shaped letter opener on his desk, the Monger ring winking at me like a malevolent eye.

  “It’s remarkable, really,” he continued, “the amount of interbreeding that has occurred over the past hundred years. You people rut like bloody rabbi
ts.”

  “Pot. Kettle.” I said under my breath. My ability to be cautious had flown out the window with my patience, and as I stared at the ring, a lightbulb suddenly exploded in my brain. Slick said mixed-bloods were aberrant – that we didn’t respond like proper Descendants. Respond? It was an odd enough word choice that I flung caution to the wind and tried something risky. “So, is every mixed-blood immune to the ring, or just me?”

  Clearly, that was a mistake. I wasn’t sure it was possible for Slick to get any scarier, but it happened. Right before my eyes. It was almost as if his Mongerness got bigger, and then rolled off him in sickening waves that filled the room like a noxious stench. I felt myself shrinking in my seat under his glare and had to anchor myself so I didn’t run away screaming.

  “We’re done here.” The way he said it made me seriously consider that he could take me out back and have me shot.

  “You wanted something from me.” I tried not to squeak in fear, but I wasn’t sure I was successful.

  “No, you’re not ready to have that conversation. You need to understand the gravity of your situation before you realize how badly you want to work for me.”

  “Why do you want Tom? What could he possibly mean to you?”

  Rage flashed in Slick’s eyes. “Your petty Council politics will play right into my hands. And when it’s time to shift the power to us, Tom will stand with me. His skills set him apart and make him someone to fear.” Slick’s grin was entirely too gleeful for my taste. “He has my blood.”

  “Which made him one of those aberrations you hate so much, and which you didn’t mind spilling when you shot him!” I lashed back. Apparently, all my self-preservation instincts had fled too.

  Slick’s voice turned icy. “My grandfather once beat my father so badly when he was a child that my father vomited blood for a week. My father passed along the favor to his son. Tom knew my history. He knew the family tradition of blooding our children, and I believe he’d tell you he got off lightly to have only been shot in the arm.”

 

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