by Kristie Cook
“No, Mom. You need her more than I do. My sister needs her more.”
My throat closed, and tears pricked at my eyes. I’d never been so proud of his compassion and tormented with what it meant. I pulled him into an embrace.
“Dad and I will be fine,” I said. “Uncle Owen will keep us protected. We need to know that Sasha is here, doing her job—protecting you. That will help us focus on our job better so we can get back as soon as possible.”
He returned my hug for the first time in a long time and rested his head on my shoulder. “You don’t have to worry about me, Mom. I promise I’ll be fine. But I’m scared for you and Dad, and I’ll feel better if Sasha is there to help you. I won’t change my mind, and you can’t make me. It’s not like you can take my Xbox or any other toys away from me.”
I frowned, and then let out a growl. “You’re too smart for your own good.”
“But you’ll always love me anyway, right?”
“Always,” I said quickly and automatically. I gave him a hard squeeze, then pulled back and braced my hands against his cheeks. I stared into his hazel eyes, trying to reach his soul with my touch and my words. “You never have to question that. No matter what, Dorian, I’ll always love you. Until the end of forever.”
He nodded, his eyes glistening, and his mouth tilted up in a smile. “I love you, too, Mom. Until the end of forever. And Dad, too.” He tentatively laid a hand on my stomach. “And her, too. I promise to be the best big brother I can be. What are we going to name her?”
“I don’t know. Maybe we can discuss it tonight when we get back.” I planted a kiss on his forehead before pulling both of us to our feet. “We’ll see you soon, okay? We’ll be back here as soon as we finish the mission.”
“I hope . . .” He trailed off, and his face darkened. “I hope it’s all worth it.”
“Me, too, Dorian. Me, too.”
Tristan met us outside the door, and they had a moment together, then Dorian, along with several others, walked us outside. Hugs and pats on the back were exchanged along with a bunch of “good lucks.”
“You guys be safe,” Blossom said as we held each other in a tight hug.
“You, too,” I said. “I expect when I come back that you’ll have figured out how to make a cake without a working oven.”
“Oh, I’ve been thinking about it. I’m sure I can figure out how to make the oven work. It’s the ingredients that might be the problem. Even if Tristan doesn’t want a birthday cake, we could all use some yumminess, yeah?”
“Yes, we can.” I squeezed her one more time. “I love you, Blossom.”
“Love you, too, girl. Now go kick some Daemoni ass and get yours back here in time.”
Before we turned for the townhome across the street, I gave Dorian one last hug, not caring if the public display of affection embarrassed him.
“Until the end,” I whispered into his ear. “No matter what.”
“Until the end,” he echoed, holding me tight and eventually letting go with a sigh.
Damn, I was going to break down right here in front of everyone. I internally questioned my decision to go on this mission. “Maybe I should stay here with you.”
Dorian rolled his eyes. “Mom, I’ll be fine. You gave Charlotte, Blossom, Jax, Sonya, and Alys strict orders to watch me, right?”
He ticked them off his fingers as he stated their names, and although the number seemed excessive as he did so, I didn’t feel one iota of guilt about it. If any other Amadis had been around, they’d have received the same orders. Blossom slid an arm over Dorian’s shoulders, and Sonya and Alys both stepped in front of him to guard him.
“Okay. I’ll see you tonight.”
“Not if I see you first,” he joked.
I forced a smile for him, and then Tristan and I headed for the street and the townhomes on the other side to where Owen, Vanessa, and Char waited.
“Go, Sasha, and protect,” Dorian said from behind us, and I glanced over my shoulder at them. Sasha started trotting after us.
“Go back to Dorian, Sasha,” I said. “Protect him.”
She grew to the size of a large Great Dane, but she didn’t return to her master. He’d given her a command, and she’d listen to him over anyone else. At least I’d tried.
We passed James and his buds, all armed up, as we walked through the gate. They didn’t wish us luck, offer up help like the other hunters had, or anything. They stayed at attention—all of it on the townhome we approached.
“I don’t trust them,” Tristan said as he opened the front door for me.
“Neither do I. I’m pretty sure they’ll be all over Noah as soon as we leave. I’m glad Char’s staying here to protect him.”
“I think we should take him with us.”
I climbed the stairs ahead of him and looked back as he closed the door. “What?”
“Charlotte needs to focus on the campus and the people there. If they’re attacked, we can’t have her attention and her powers divided.”
“What are we going to do with him?”
“We’ll leave him with T.J.”
I hit the landing and turned toward him again to get a read on his face. He was dead serious.
Owen and Char must have been saying their goodbyes when we entered, because her reddened eyes blinked rapidly, and she threw her arms around me.
“You guys be safe, you hear me?” she said, her voice tight and firm. “Don’t do anything stupid. If you can’t get to them, then you come back here, and we figure out a new plan. And no matter what, you be back here by midnight. You understand?”
A small grin tried to reach my lips. “You sound like my mom.”
“Good. She’d want me to.” She tightened her embrace. “We need you, Alexis. The Amadis do. Humanity . . . I do. You and that baby are our hope. Maybe our last hope.”
I nodded against her shoulder. “We’ll be careful, Char. I promise. And we’ll be back in time. Then maybe you’ll finally tell me the story about why Mom called you Charred sometimes.”
She chuckled. “We get through this, kiddo, I’ll tell you, as frightfully embarrassing as it is. I promise.”
Owen redid the bindings on Noah so Tristan could use his power to force him along with us, and then he created the portal. A moment later, we left our little refuge—and what remained of our family—behind and stepped through the portal. We’d decided earlier that appearing at the Lincoln Memorial, the Washington Monument, or anywhere else directly on the Mall would be too conspicuous, so we’d picked the Thomas Jefferson Memorial, which happened to have an entrance to the tunnels underneath it. And, overlooking the calm waters of the Potomac Tidal Basin, still happened to be my favorite site of them all.
Although, I didn’t appreciate the Satanic symbols graffitied on the walls, the colonnades, and even the interior of the shallow dome of the pantheon-like structure. The peace I used to come here for was snuffed out by the black magic that hung heavily in the air, singeing my nose hairs, prickling my skin, and making my stomach clench. Sasha let out a low growl, feeling it, too. I wondered how long anyone could be surrounded by such darkness before their soul dissolved into a black, oozing pool. I could only hope ours were strong enough to withstand it for as long as it would take to complete our mission.
While Tristan and Owen situated Noah—they really were going to bind him to old Thomas’ statue that stood in the center of the domed portico—my eyes fell on the quotes inscribed on the walls. I knew the excerpts from the Declaration of Independence and letters to prominent statesmen by heart from when I used to come here all the time. Certain parts stood out to me now, though, as if a soft light illuminated them especially for this moment.
Vanessa must have noticed them, too, because she read aloud, “I have sworn upon the altar of God eternal hostility against every form of tyranny over the mind of man.” She paused before saying, “I can’t imagine a worse form of tyranny than Lucas controlling the world.”
With a nod, I turned to
the next one, my eyes skimming over the words: “We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal . . .” Mr. Jefferson and the rest of our founding fathers must not have known about supernatural creatures posing as men. Or, maybe they had, and this line had more than one meaning—a statement to the Daemoni that they would not bow down. That supernaturals were equal to them. That evil would hold no power over them.
Unfortunately, the dark force held as much power as people would give it, and today’s world had given it too much. They’d fed the bad sides of themselves, and not enough of the good, creating a gross imbalance. And now the darkness would rule, and they would lose their liberties, if not their lives, if we weren’t able to free them first.
With a heart growing heavier by the moment, I read the next one out loud: “. . .with a firm reliance on the protection of divine providence, we mutually pledge our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor.”
The phrase felt like a prayer, or perhaps an oath I was taking this very moment. I hoped we truly had the protection of God and the Angels. With no word from Mom, Rina, or Cassandra, I had to believe they saw us on the right path, doing what was necessary to win this war. Otherwise, they really had abandoned us.
Owen continued casting binding spells while Tristan held Noah in place, so with these thoughts and ideals tumbling around in my mind, I wandered outside. Both Vanessa and Sasha stuck close to my side, and we stopped at the top of the marble steps that circled the monument, this side leading down to the water. The memory of the last time I’d been here came vividly. It’d been the night I’d first met Tristan, Owen, and Vanessa, but I hadn’t known it at the time. I’d been sitting here on these very steps, feeling as though someone watched me. I knew now it had been them.
How the world had changed since that night.
I lifted my gaze from the smooth surface of the water reflecting the blue, late afternoon sky and tried to peer across the basin to the Mall, toward the Washington Monument and beyond it, the White House. My vision was good enough to see that far, but trees still held onto enough of their red, orange, and yellow leaves to block my view. The autumn scene would have normally been breathtaking, but the yellow, hellish haze blanketing the area diminished the beauty. As did the feeling of trepidation that hugged me like a second skin, making both my insides and outsides tremor with electrified nerves.
“They don’t look right,” Vanessa said from right next to me, with her hands on her hips as she also gazed across the water to the other side. A few people meandered around the trees to the edge of the basin. “Look how they walk.”
I nodded. “Must be those zombies James mentioned.”
“Want me to run over there and check it out?”
“Nah. We’re not going that way. From what I can see through the trees, though, it looks like there’s a bunch more on the Mall. I wonder why they’re all here, but there weren’t any by the campus or in Virginia.”
Vanessa tapped her fingers against her hip. “My guess would be Lucas has them contained here by choice.”
“To keep Normans out of the area?”
“Bingo.”
“Heh,” I said, shaking my head. “Zombie boobie traps. Who would have thought?”
“Lucas would.”
I snorted. “Of course. He’s such a sick freak.”
Her head turned for the first time as she looked down at me. “You don’t know the half of it, sister.”
“Let’s go,” Tristan said from behind us.
Chapter 26
With a last glance at the zombies, we turned toward the shadowed interior of the monument, where Noah was bound to the statue, back-to-back with Thomas, only able to move his eyes and mouth. Owen shielded and cloaked the four of us and Sasha, and we passed Noah as he glared at the red symbols on the walls with a mix of hatred and awe in his eyes. He didn’t give us so much as a cursory glance as we walked by, headed to the door that led downstairs.
“Alexis,” he suddenly murmured, and I turned to look at him from the doorway. “Aim for directly under the right ear. It will put them to sleep.”
“What?” I asked.
He clamped his mouth shut and stared straight ahead again.
Whatever, I thought as we went downstairs to the gift shop, which had been left in a shambles. Shelves lay on their sides, and miniature replicas of various monuments and several snow globes littered the floor. Postcards and other pieces of memorabilia lay scattered everywhere, too, never to be seen by another tourist again. I paused for a moment to pick up a postcard of the sun setting over the monument with cherry blossoms surrounding it, before it had been vandalized. I stuffed it into my backpack as my own souvenir for how the world used to be.
At the back of the shop was a door to stairs that led downward. One flight down, we entered what appeared to be an office under the monument with another door leading off of it. Through there came more stairs, another two flights downward, and then we entered the tunnel with a concrete floor and white tiled walls displaying more offensive graffiti. If the dark energy felt thick above ground, it was positively suffocating down here. Sasha let out a soft whine.
“I know, girl.” I reached up and rubbed the back of her head. “It hurts all the way to the bones, doesn’t it?”
After Owen gave himself a magical boost and provided a tiny point of light in the pitch blackness, we sprinted through the tunnel that stretched far into the darkness beyond. My internal compass felt as though we headed north, which meant we ran under the Tidal Basin. Then we reached a few forks that I figured meant we were under or near the Washington Monument.
“This way,” Tristan said, turning right.
We ran for only a moment when he stopped and the rest of us plowed into him. A horde of Daemoni gathered not too far ahead, their voices carrying to us. The stink of more zombies floated on the air. I assumed they guarded the Capitol building. When I tried to reach out for mind signatures with my faulty ability, I could barely grasp on to vampires and werewolves, as well as a couple of were-felines.
“No Summoned or Lucas here,” I whispered, unable to mind-talk.
“Let’s go back and try a different way,” Tristan said.
We followed him through the tunnels, finding a similar crowd of Daemoni and zombies at the entrance to the White House, but still no Lucas or Summoned. Same with the tunnel that led to the Lincoln Memorial.
“There’s another way to the other side of the Capitol building,” Tristan said. “They must be over there.”
“Do you think it’s safe to flash?” Owen asked.
“Flash or portal—if they want to trap us, they will. At this point, what do we have to lose?” He took my hand and Vanessa’s. “Sasha, hide.” The lykora shrunk down to her toy-dog size, leapt into my arm, and then crawled into my jacket. “I’ll lead the flash.”
We arrived in a grand, round room with marble walls and columns that reached upwards toward a dome that arced high overhead. The ceiling stretched down to large, semicircular windows, separated by statues between them. Below the windows were two rows of balconies displaying more statues and archways, and then tall, rounded doorways on our level. We stood among three rows of tables encircling the room with a round counter and what appeared to be a service desk in the center, all made of dark, polished wood. The extent of the room’s beauty and majesty exceeded anywhere I’d ever been, including the Amadis mansion.
“Where are we?” I whispered.
“The vastest collection of knowledge on Earth,” Tristan answered. “The Library of Congress.”
Vanessa sniffed the air. “Holding a vast collection of the Summoned and their descendants in its belly.”
Reader-and-writer-girl inhaled the intoxicating pulp-and-leather smell of old books and wanted so badly to geek out. We were in the freakin’ Library of Congress, surrounded by more books than my head could wrap itself around. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the luxury to bathe in its glory. In fact, I’d probably never have such luxury again.
Vanessa, whose sense of smell was even stronger than Tristan’s and mine, led us to the far side of the room, through double doors, and across a corridor that stretched to our right and left. Ahead, we entered a utilitarian stairwell meant for employees and definitely not Congressmen and dignitaries who visited the library. We left the polished marble and wood behind for plain gray walls, darker gray rails, and concrete stairs. Once again, we headed downward. Three flights down, we entered another tunnel, but only walked a few yards before Vanessa’s nose led us through a doorway and into a space that appeared to have been a conference room.
Unlike the rooms and halls of yesteryear above with their ornate murals, beautiful sculptures, and fine details, this room belonged in today’s world. The contrast reminded me of the difference between the media room and the rest of the matriarch’s mansion. Much like our media room, huge flat screens lined the walls of this room, but rather than comfortable home-theater type seating, the rest of the space was devoid of any furniture. Towers of stackable chairs stood in one corner, leaving an expanse of gray commercial-grade carpet stretching from wall to wall. In a time when the rest of the world, or at least what we’d seen of it, had lost electrical power, overhead fluorescent lights somehow illuminated the room.
Like the lights, the monitors were somehow powered on and somehow connected to cameras around the world. I figured the “somehow” must have been magic, in the same way Amadis Island was powered. All of the screens showed a similar scene, but at different locations with different backgrounds. Norman super-soldiers lined up on the left side with guns pointing at masses of human men, women, and children on the right. The people on the screens appeared to be of various nationalities, wailing, pleading, and crying for help in a multitude of languages. One camera showed the Eiffel Tower in the background, another the Egyptian pyramids, one snow-capped mountains, and yet another what was obviously an American mall.
When I peered closer, I recognized a few faces among the Normans on each screen: Chandra in India, Minh’s second-in-command in front of the Sydney Opera House, and there were Trevor, Sundae, and their whole pack of Amadis werewolves in a crowd of norms with Stone Mountain, Georgia, in the background. My heart leapt into my already tight throat.