INTEGRATION (Bonfire Academy Book Two) (Bonfire Chronicles)

by Imogen Rose

  Once I was on the inside, I grabbed control of her heart, slowing the beat and squeezing the life out of her. I didn’t really want to kill her, just disable her temporarily to give The Smelt a chance to deal with her and get her away from the Academy. I remained inside Mrs. Russo, making sure she stayed put on the floor, until I began to get drowsy. My eyelids felt as though bricks had been dropped on top of them.

  Ugh. They must have sedated her. I tried to gather enough energy to float out, but my entire body felt like concrete. I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore. I shut them and fell into a cloud of warm nothingness.

  “Cordelia! Are you in there?” Dr. Marks yelled, making my head ache even worse.

  I felt so groggy and tired, too tired to be bothered with him. I decided to go back to sleep.

  “Cordelia!”

  Sheesh, that man was so annoying! I practically had to pull my lids open. I yawned, breathing in the air. Yikes, gross! The pungent aroma of cat filled the air. It was pitch black, and my eyes refused to adjust to the darkness.

  Suddenly, a beam of light shone through a slit, and I covered my eyes.

  “Cordelia! Are you inside Mrs. Russo? You need to come out before she wakes up.” Dr. Marks’s voice sounded a bit desperate. “I don’t think she’s in there.”

  “She’s definitely in there,” Jagger said. “I can feel her.”

  “Cordelia? Could you give us some kind of sign that you’re in there? Could you move Mrs. Russo’s finger? She’s out cold, so you don’t need to worry about her.”

  Mrs. Russo? Oh…it was all coming back to me. I couldn’t believe I was still inside her. Yikes. That explained the stink and darkness. They must have drugged her. But why was I feeling the effects of that? I hadn’t tapped into her physiologically. I tried to figure out what was going on, but I was just too woozy.

  “She may not have possessed Mrs. Russo like that,” King Sebastian said. Ah, the hot, hot king… I giggled silently.

  “What do you mean?” Dr. Marks asked.

  “She may not have fully possessed Mrs. Russo, but may merely be residing within her, unattached. If that’s the case, she won’t be able to give us a physical sign.”

  “Well, how can we confirm it, then?” Dr. Marks asked.

  “Cordelia,” Jagger said, “decrease my heartbeat.”

  Really? Couldn’t they just let me sleep for a while? Okay, anything to stop the whining. If Jagger wanted me to decrease his heartbeat for him, I could do that. I concentrated on my own beat, planning to get that under control first, so I could hear his. My own beat was so erratic that it took me a while to figure out that it was actually mine. And it was beating in harmony with someone else’s. I listened carefully, picking up on a third beat, a much steadier and stronger one, definitely Jagger’s. It suddenly occurred to me that my hand was still around Mrs. Russo’s heart, holding it in a vice grip. Somehow, her beat was drawing from mine, sapping my energy. What would happen if I let go? Would she die?

  Did I even have enough energy to let go? I decided to tap into Jagger’s for help. He had, after all, asked me to decrease his beat. I concentrated hard, allowing myself to get immersed in Jagger’s beat, and when I felt us beating in harmony, I let go of my grip around Mrs. Russo’s heart.

  “She’s definitely in there,” Jagger said, his voice tinged with worry. “But I have no idea what she’s doing.”

  I heard loud beeping and shouts of panic. I passed out again.

  “Cordelia! Wake up! We need to talk to you before Mrs. Russo awakens.”

  I shook myself out of my heavy head and possessed Mrs. Russo fully, taking control of her body so I could communicate with Jagger.

  “Hey,” I said, suppressing a yawn. “What’s up? Can I come out?”

  “I have a proposal,” King Sebastian said.

  “Which totally sucks, and yes, please come out,” Jagger added.

  “Wait, just for a moment, and hear me out,” King Sebastian said. “You’re in an extraordinary situation at the moment, inside the enemy, so to speak. And Mrs. Russo will have no idea when she wakes up that you’re there.”

  “Well, she’s hardly the enemy,” I retorted. “I mean, she just reacted at the way the trial was going.”

  “She may not have been the enemy, but she certainly will be now,” King Sebastian replied. “I inadvertently killed her husband during our scuffle.”

  Sigh. Mrs. Russo had had two members of her family killed by King Sebastian’s family. Yes, I was pretty sure that she could be counted as an enemy. “Okay, so I should probably get out, right?”

  “Or we could potentially use you to gather some information,” King Sebastian said.

  “How?”

  “Mrs. Russo is going to be after blood. The chances are good that she will contact others who are similar-minded.”

  “Oh. Like the old lady?”

  “I would imagine so. Bet she’ll be contacted by everyone who has an interest in harming me and my family. Of course, I have nothing to base it on other than pure instinct. That’s what I would do if I were in her position.”

  “Me, too,” I agreed. “So, you want me to stay in here and find out?”

  “No!” Jagger shouted. “This isn’t Cordelia’s problem. She isn’t a member of your family; Mrs. Russo won’t be after her.”

  “Jagger, I’ll be fine. Plus, I really want to help, and since I’m here already, I may as well stay here a bit longer. Mrs. Russo will never know.”

  “Honey, please,” Jagger pleaded.

  “It won’t be for long, just until I figure out what she’s going to do. She might not do anything. For all we know, she’ll go into mourning and take to her bed for the next few years.”

  “Cordelia, you’ll need to detach from her and merely be a passenger. Don’t interfere and make her suspicious.” King Sebastian had his instructor voice on.

  “Okay. Can I have something to eat first?” I asked. “And tell me, how is Faustine?”

  “She’s fine,” Jagger said. “Ryker wandered her to your room, where she slept for a while. She’s with Quinn now. He’s taking her skiing to relax her.”

  “Good.” After chomping down on as much steak as Mrs. Russo’s stomach would allow, I detached from her and hid in the very deepest recesses of her mind. I could still hear everything, but I was in complete darkness. If I absolutely had to, I could peek through her eyes, but that could compromise me.

  “She’s stirring,” Dr. Marks said. “It would be best if you both leave now.”

  “Okay,” King Sebastian said. I heard him stand up.

  “Be careful,” Jagger said, before I heard a door shut.

  I was alone with Dr. Marks and Mrs. Russo. Mrs. Russo was writhing, thrashing her arms.

  “Mrs. Russo, I’m Dr. Marks. Can you open your eyes?”

  “Where am I?” a very weak voice whispered. “Water, please.”

  “You are at Bonfire Academy’s infirmary.”

  I heard liquid make its way down her throat and hit her stomach.

  “Thank you,” she said, her voice still raspy. “My husband?”

  “I’m afraid the news isn’t good.” Dr. Marks’s voice was almost indiscernible.

  “Huh? What?”

  “He didn’t make it.”

  “He was murdered?” Her voice was shrill.

  “He was killed during the fight at the Justice Hall.”

  I felt her body shake just before heart-wrenching sobs escaped her and filled the room.

  “Leave! Leave me alone!” she shouted.

  I heard a door shut and assumed that Dr. Marks was leaving in a hurry.

  Mrs. Russo threw back her head and howled. After a while, through the wailing, I heard the door open again. Whoever had come in didn’t speak, probably waiting for Mrs. Russo to calm down. But the crying went on for ages, seeming not to dampen even a little bit. I feared that Dr. Marks would have to sedate her again. Poor woman, she’d probably be lost in a deep depression.

  Once she
was finally worn out from weeping, she lay still, occasionally whimpering.

  “Mrs. Russo, I’m so sorry for your loss.” The Smelt’s voice was as empathetic and kind as I’d ever heard it. “Is there anything I can do? Anyone I can contact?”

  She was met with silence.

  “Frau Schmelder, let’s allow Mrs. Russo to rest now. I’ll call you when she gets up,” Dr. Marks said. “I’ll walk out with you, to allow her to sleep.”

  The door shut again, and I assumed that I’d been left alone with Mrs. Russo. She started to cry again, heaving as if she might upchuck. I remembered the amount of steak I had jammed into her tummy and almost felt sick myself. After a while, her breathing became more even, and she fell asleep. She slept for an hour or so, and then suddenly stretched and yawned loudly. After another bout of crying, with small, quiet sobs, she sat up. She scrambled about, doing stuff, and finally speaking.

  “Hello, Cam?”

  “Hello, Mrs. Russo. I trust everything is going well?”

  She erupted into another flood of tears while she updated whoever Cam was. While she was talking, the door opened again. I wished Dr. Marks had waited until she finished her phone call, in case she said something important.

  “Who are you?” Mrs. Russo inquired.

  “My name is Mason. I was a friend of Nari’s.”

  Ah, not Dr. Marks. Mason visiting could be more interesting than the phone call.

  “You knew Nari?” Her tone was soft and desperately hopeful.

  “I did,” Mason said. “I’m so sorry that he’s gone. And now I’ve heard that your husband has been killed, as well. Bad news travels fast around the shifter community. Is there anything I can do to help you?”

  “Help? No. There’s no way to bring them back. I feel…empty.”

  “Justice may help fill the emptiness,” Mason said.

  “We tried that, and look what happened! I have now lost a husband in addition to my son. There’s no justice to be had here. King Sebastian has this school in the palm of his hand.”

  “Perhaps, but there are other ways. I may be able to help you get the justice you deserve.”

  “How? I’ll do anything.”

  “Please take this,” Mason said. “When you feel ready, call the number on the note, and we’ll take it from there.”

  “I’m ready now,” Mrs. Russo said.

  “I understand your craving for revenge, but it’ll be more effective if you’re healthy. Wait for Dr. Marks to give you the all clear, and then call the number. I must go now. I smell Dr. Marks coming. Feel better soon.”

  Mason left, and I heard Mrs. Russo crinkling something as Dr. Marks walked in.

  “Hello, Dr. Marks,” she said in a surprisingly cheery voice.

  “Mrs. Russo! You look so much better; that nap seems to have helped you.”

  “Indeed. And I’d like to go home now. I need to take care of my husband’s funeral arrangements. Where’s his body?”

  “It’s in the morgue. I can have it transported to your home.”

  “Please do. Can I go now?”

  “Yes, if you’re feeling up to it. You’re healing nicely, and your pulse is strong. Have a doctor change your dressing regularly. I will go arrange for a private plane to take you home.”

  “Thank you, but I’ll use my own plane. It’s waiting for me at Engadin. Could you have a helicopter drop me off there?”

  “Certainly. I’ll go and arrange that right now. Shall I ask Frau Schmelder to—”

  “No. That won’t be necessary. Just arrange for the helicopter.”

  As soon as the door closed, she got on the phone again.

  “Hello?”

  I froze as I recognized the old woman’s voice.

  “This is Mrs. Russo. A boy named Mason asked me to call this number.”

  “Ah, Mrs. Russo. I’m so glad you called. I can’t tell you how sorry I am for your loss. Can you come to New York?”

  “Yes, where in New York?”

  “Have your pilot fly you into Newark airport. I’ll have a limo standing by to bring you to me. I look forward to seeing you.”

  An hour later, after a short helicopter ride, we were on our way to Manhattan. I felt both excited and sick at the prospect of finally meeting the old woman. I had no way of letting King Sebastian or Jagger know what was happening. I was just a silent passenger.

  I wondered how Jagger was coping. I would have been going crazy with worry had the situation been reversed. I needed to be extra careful, especially since the old woman had detected me twice before when I tried the same stunt. There would be no peeking and no manipulating Mrs. Russo. I had to be totally inert…or I would be history.

  When Mrs. Russo finally knocked on the door that I presumed belonged to the old lady, I nearly passed out from the strain of having to remain quiet. All I wanted to do was to have a little peek to see if it was the same woman who’d tried to fry me.

  The door opened, and a man’s voice said, “Welcome, Mrs. Russo. Miss Miller is waiting for you in the parlor.”

  Miss Miller? I searched my brain for the name. It was a fairly common last name, but not one I’d come across, at least not that I could remember.

  “I’m Robert, Miss Miller’s partner,” the man continued. “I heard about your husband and son. My condolences.”

  “Welcome to my home.”

  The voice made me shudder. It was the voice I had heard in Mason’s room, the one that belonged to the old woman who’d tried to kill me. I longed to take control of Mrs. Russo’s body and rip the old woman to bits, but King Sebastian had warned me that although the woman was old, she was very powerful, a deadly combination for an imbalanced demon witch.

  As Mrs. Russo sat down, her stomach rumbled loudly. She hadn’t eaten on the flight over, presumably still being full from all the food I had eaten.

  “May I get you something to eat?” Miss Miller said.

  “Yes, please. Excuse my rudeness. I seem to have ingested something disagreeable.”

  “Robert, could you ask Horatio to prepare something?”

  “Certainly, my dear. Please excuse me.”

  “While Robert does that, could you tell me exactly what happened to your son?”

  Mrs. Russo went through the incident, painting a slightly different picture from the one we’d all seen on the surveillance recording. In her version, Faustine taunted Nari and then launched herself at him, eating bits that she shredded off his bleeding body while he screamed in pain. Whatever.

  “Tsk, tsk,” Miss Miller muttered. “And the school did nothing? Ah, Robert, thank you.”

  Mrs. Russo made chewing sounds and gulped down bits of food.

  Miss Miller cleared her throat. “And your husband?”

  “He was killed by King Sebastian.”

  “And what exactly are you after?” Miss Miller asked, her tone now softer.

  “I want them dead.”

  “Sebastian and Faustine?”

  “Yes. The boy, Mason, said you could help.”

  “Well, that is something I can help you with. But…” She paused, making a gross clucking sound with her tongue.

  “Anything,” Mrs. Russo said. “Please, if you can help me, I will repay you in any way I can.”

  “We don’t want much,” Robert said. “Merely an introduction to your brother.”

  “Pauli or one of the others?”

  “The sovereign shifter of Rome,” Robert clarified. “We’ll need some assurance that he’ll work with us.”

  “To do what?”

  “That’s not something we can discuss with you at this point. You can rest assured that we’ll take care of both Sebastian and Faustine.”

  Sheesh! They were going to do that anyway, even if Mrs. Russo didn’t cooperate. King Sebastian had been right. The old woman was up to something big that obviously involved getting multiple city councils in her corner. I had to warn him. But how? I was stuck.

  “I can introduce you to my brother, and though I can�
��t pledge his cooperation, I’ll do my very best to convince him to work with you. He will be as devastated as I am by my husband’s death.”

  “Good,” Miss Miller said. “In that case, Robert will accompany you back to Rome. You may use my private jet. Please feel free to stay the night; I can have my housekeeper prepare a room for you. You’ll have to excuse me now; I have a meeting to attend. It was nice to meet you. Once again, my very heartfelt condolences.”

  Mrs. Russo stood up. “Thank you, Miss Miller. It was a pleasure to meet you. And thank you for your hospitality.”

  “Robert, before I go,” Miss Miller said, “did you want to show me your new poem?”

  Poem? Haiku? I fought the urge to have a peek out. Who was Robert?

  Miss Miller cackled, making my blood boil. “This is good! Thanks, Robert. I’ll pass it along to Mason.”

  And there I had it. Finally.

  “Mrs. Russo, Angela will show you to your room,” Robert said. “We’ll leave at ten in the morning. I’ll have Angela bring you breakfast before then. I shall leave you now as well. See you tomorrow.”

  “Thank you, Robert.”

  I heard a new voice in the room, a shy, timid one. “Madam? Please follow me,” she—I presumed Angela—said in a pleasant Southern accent.

  We were on the move again, going up some stairs, then I heard the sound of a creaky door.

  “This is it,” Angela said. “I’ll have some dinner sent up.”

  “No need. I’m going to take a nap. I’ll call down later if I need a snack,” Mrs. Russo replied.

  Once the door screeched shut, Mrs. Russo got on the phone again. “Pauli? Selma here.” She went on to update him on what had happened at the Academy, which was met with sniffling from her brother. She then told him about Miss Miller’s proposition.

  “Sel, I can take care of Sebastian myself. I don’t need this Miller lady’s help. Who is she anyway?”

  “I don’t exactly know. She is very old, in her nineties, I’d guess. She has a younger partner, Robert. I can’t fully tell what kind of paranormal she is from her scent. I would guess a demon, but there is something mixed in with that.”