by A. P. Jensen
“Let him go,” she whispered.
Bertrand moaned as Knight shook his head ever so slightly. Jordan clenched her fists and felt her eyes burn with tears.
“Let him go,” she repeated, voice stronger.
For a long minute, girl and beast stared at one another. Everyone waited and slowly, Knight opened his jaw and withdrew his fangs from the man’s throat. Bertrand gurgled and Kelly rushed forward, kneeling in the pool of blood to look at his throat.
Jordan walked away on shaky legs. Hadn’t she told Kelly that death followed wherever she went? She sat on the couch and stared blankly at the demolished pastries. Knight sat beside her, licking his face. Gideon walked up with a wet towel. Knight growled but made no move to bite Gideon as he bathed Bertrand’s blood from his face.
“Bertrand’s going to be fine.”
He glanced at Jordan as she sat like a marble statue.
“Knight did what he’s meant to do, Jordan. He thought you were in danger. Valors have fought beside us in wars past. They kill to protect, Jordan. It’s part of his duty as a Guardian.”
Jordan looked back at Bertrand who was being supported by one of the Lafita who rushed forward when the Valor attacked. “Who is he?”
“Bertrand Christian, the Sentinel. It’s his duty to guard the Gem. When someone needs to be elected to become a Guide or be Declared, Bertrand brings the Gem out of hiding to fulfill its purpose,” Gideon said.
“How did he know my mom?”
Gideon frowned. “That I don’t know. He and Donovan used to be close when they were younger. Maybe he met Star before… well, before.”
Jordan looked up at her grandfather. “Why didn’t Mr. Parker want him to touch me?”
Gideon held his hand out, palm up. She remembered how Gideon sensed William’s power running through her just by touch.
“He knew William?”
“Bertrand is his brother,” Gideon murmured.
Jordan felt the blood drain out of her head. She knew William had family, she heard him say-. She cut off that thought. What would Bertrand do to her if he knew she watched his brother die? Kelly straightened away from Bertrand with bloody hands.
“You’re lucky he didn’t crush your windpipe. He was just giving you a warning,” Kelly walked into the kitchen to wash her hands.
Bertrand slapped at the hand Mr. Parker extended to help him to his feet. Jordan tensed as the men put themselves between Bertrand and Jordan. The Valor watched him hungrily.
“So that’s a Valor?” Bertrand asked, fingering his throat thoughtfully. The puncture wounds that had been there a minute before were gone.
“He’s her Guardian. Do anything stupid again and you better pray she’s around to call him off,” Mr. Parker said. “Jordan has to attend the Declaration Ceremony. Can you handle it?”
Bertrand nodded. Jordan stared at the blood on his clothes and shuddered when the door slammed shut behind him. There was a strained silence as everyone stared at the pool of blood on the floor and then at Knight who seemed to savor the taste of blood on his tongue. Kelly helped Mary Ann sip a cup of tea. Jordan blew out a breath when the skin on Mary Ann’s hands began to change back to a healthy pink. Mr. Parker made a wiping motion with his hand and the pool of blood disappeared as if it had never been.
There was a knock on the balcony doors. Cibrian let out a shout and rushed forward as a tall, thin man dressed in a lime green shirt, black silk tie and coat stepped into the room, smiling jovially.
“There’s my boy!” the man said and wrapped Cibrian in a hug. The man looked over Cibrian’s shoulder at the silent crowd watching him. “What’s going on?”
“It’s visiting hours,” Heath said dryly.
Cibrian’s father was tall like Cibrian with the same dark red hair. He had a ponytail, a silver hoop earring in his right ear and dark purple eyes.
“This is Jordan, Uncle Van’s daughter,” Cibrian said, turning his father towards Jordan.
“So the rumors are true. Geez, Van, you couldn’t tell your best friend you had a daughter?” Cibrian’s dad said but his eyes were kind.
“It’s complicated,” Jordan said and he raised his brows.
“Is it now? Everything involving your dad usually is so you better get used to it, honey. You can call me Seth.”
Cibrian pointed at the closed front door where Bertrand exited and then at Knight as he talked to his father animatedly.
“Well, I could have done without almost losing my hand but thanks for the experience, girl,” Mary Ann said, plopping on a couch near Jordan’s chair. “Lovely morning huh?”
When Jordan stared at Mary Ann, unsure how to respond, a bright voice interrupted.
“Hey all!”
Monica and Luther came down the steps, color coordinated in red and white.
“Well, well if it isn’t the desperate Dunn sister,” Mary Ann said snidely.
“Oh hell to the no,” Polly muttered.
Either Monica didn’t hear them or she ignored the less than welcome attitudes. Luther followed in her wake as Monica made her way through the crowd. When Luther reached Seth he said, “Hey boss.” As Luther and Seth launched into Tolly business Monica came over and sat beside Mary Ann.
“Nice to see you out and about, Aunty,” Monica said.
Mary Ann squinted at Monica and sniffed. “How old are you?”
Monica’s smile dimmed. “Excuse me?”
“Forty?” When Monica didn’t respond Mary Ann huffed. “Those fertility pills you’re taking are awful strong. How long have you been on them?”
Monica darted a mortified look at Jordan. “I don’t think this is the appropriate time-”
“Why not? We’re family,” Mary Ann said blithely.
“A month.”
“Don’t take them for longer than a year. It’ll do more harm than good but you’re not with the boy are you?” Mary Ann said with a sneer. “Don’t know why you’d want to be with someone young enough to be your son anyway.”
Monica’s mouth flapped open and closed.
“You can try tempting him with those pheromones you’re putting out but why put yourself through that? That’s embarrassing.”
“He’s a manager at Tolly Inc.-”
“Which goes to show he knows how to kiss ass and he’s ambitious. Dime a dozen.”
Monica ran a hand over her hair. “Yes, well, Seth is happy to have him on board. He is a sorcerer and Autumis needs a Guide-”
“Your little baby barely knows how to tie his shoes, much less run a capital,” Mary Ann interrupted.
Monica glared. “You thought Donovan could do it, if I remember correctly.”
“True. I thought Donovan would be a good leader because he fears his power. That pup you have,” Mary Ann jerked her chin in Luther’s direction. “He’s cocky. Too sure of himself.”
Jordan floated on a sea of panic. If she wasn’t so preoccupied she would have admired Mary Ann’s ability to manipulate answers from Monica. She paced away from the crowd to the koi pond. She did two circles around the pond, twisting her hands together.
“Ready?” Mr. Parker asked, appearing in front of her.
“I made a mistake.”
“Which one?”
“This isn’t a joke,” she snapped, on the verge of losing it. “I can’t do this Declaration Ceremony thing.”
“Too bad. How many times do I have to tell you there’s no going back? You’re here. End of story.”
“What if I hurt more people?” she lowered her voice to barely a whisper. “There’s something wrong with me. I can feel it.”
Mr. Parker leaned down and put his face right in front of hers. “Get over it.”
“I hurt you last night. I’m sorry-”
For the first time, anger crossed his face. “I can handle it.”
“But you didn’t come back. What did I do to you?”
“Nothing Kelly couldn’t help me with,” he said coolly. “We’re wasting time.”
“I saw him-”
He clapped a hand over her mouth. “I don’t want to hear it. I’ve got my hands full trying to keep people from testing or killing you. I don’t have time to pat you on the head and tell you everything is going to be alright.” He looked beyond her, distracted. “Don’t let anyone touch you. The tie with William is still too fresh.”
Jordan bit his hand and he jerked it away. “You’re not listening to me!”
“Isn’t that what parents are supposed to do?”
Mr. Parker hesitated as he reached out and touched her gingerly despite the fact that he wore gloves. The memory of the pain she put him through in the temple was still too vivid in his mind. When there were no repercussions he tightened his grip on her and pulled her towards the balcony doors.
Jordan sucked in a breath as the cold hit her. She looked back before Heath closed the balcony doors. Knight watched with angry eyes as she was taken from his protection, a smear of blood on his muzzle.
Chapter Twenty Four
For a moment, adults and teens absorbed the noise and the chaos that reined around them. It was like walking into a war zone. People flew through the air, some chanted in excitement and others argued about their seats in the stands. Gideon turned to Jordan, said words she couldn’t hear before he launched himself into the air and disappeared with Polly. Mr. Parker pulled Jordan into his arms and this time she was semi prepared as he stepped over the edge and they sped down. She let out a huff when they halted abruptly. Mr. Parker loosened his grip and set her on solid ground.
The noise from the crowd was deafening and Jordan resisted the urge to cover her ears. The adults in their group closed around them, shuffling Levi, Cibrian and Jordan to the middle as they pushed through the rowdy crowd.
Mr. Parker stopped and Jordan saw they were at the fringes of the amphitheater. There was a solid wall of Lafita stopping anyone but the teens from walking down the aisles and claiming seats. Panic scorched Jordan’s insides. She tried to tug out of Mr. Parker’s hold but he tightened his grasp to the point of pain. Mr. Parker looked at a blonde Lafita with orange eyes.
“Name?” the man asked although he knew exactly who Mr. Parker was.
“Jordan Parker, Cibrian Tolly and Levi Sawyer,” Mr. Parker said.
The Lafita tapped several keys on a small device in his hand. He nodded at the teens and moved to the side to let them pass. As the boys shuffled forward, Jordan turned desperately to Mr. Parker. She opened her mouth to speak but he leaned down and raised the zipper higher on her jacket.
“Everything is going to be fine. I’ll be watching you,” he said and walked away.
Heath clapped them on the back encouragingly while Kelly blew kisses. Seth Tolly leaned down and murmured something in Cibrian’s ear before he pushed him forward. Jordan was propelled past the wall of Lafita. Other parents with scared looking teens wished their children good luck with tears, smiles and in some cases, angry words. When Jordan turned to the amphitheater, she forgot everything. Looking down at everything from their balcony was nothing compared to actually being at ground zero.
Jordan stood at the top step that led down a steep staircase that was so long she could barely see where it ended. The amphitheater was as big as a football field, stacked with seats for teens ready to be Declared. The seats surrounding the stage were set in a circle with about thirty seats in a row before giving way to an aisle. Like a movie theater, the seats were on a decline so everyone would be able to see the stage floating in midair. The ice circles Jordan despised from the hotel gathered around the stage.
The colored stands with spectators towered vertically towards the sky. It seemed as if millions of people looked down at them. The flashes of light from the stands were blinding. Jordan wondered if this is what it felt like to be a rock star.
“Your seat is twenty rows down, left, aisle,” the Lafita hollered at Jordan.
Teenagers milled around, whispering to one another, ignoring one another or watching people like Jordan make her way to a seat. On wobbly legs, Jordan walked down the steps, holding onto each chair as she made her way down. The chairs were built like theater chairs except for the fact that these were made from a mixture of ice and colorful jewels. On the back of each chair in silver lettering it had the future student’s name. Jordan stopped, staring at the chair that stated, Jordan Parker. She rolled the name on her tongue and gave thanks she had an aisle seat.
In her row, two seats over, a girl sat sideways in her chair. She had curly red hair and dark purple eyes. Leaning over the back of her chair was a very thin boy with glasses and a brown bow tie with lime green polka dots beneath his chin. They stopped chatting when Jordan stopped beside her seat.
“Are you really Donovan Parker’s daughter or is this a publicity stunt?” the girl drawled through a large wad of acid yellow colored gum.
“It’s true,” Jordan said and sat.
Some of the teens around her turned in their seats to examine her. She met their gazes head on. Most of them looked away.
“No shit,” the girl said.
“Are you a Grounder?” asked the boy with the bow tie in a voice as bossy as any reporters.
Jordan met his blue gaze. When she didn’t answer, a flush crept over his face.
“This is Giles,” the red head said over the awkward silence. “And I’m Cherry.”
Jordan looked out over the sea of teens, aware of the boy and girl watching her. Cherry twirled her gum around her pointer finger and examined Jordan as if she were a dress on display rather than a person.
“You can’t really blame Giles,” Cherry said. “Everyone’s gonna ask.”
“How are these seats organized?” Jordan asked, ignoring Cherry’s comments.
“Alphabetically,” Giles piped up, trying to redeem himself. “Last names go around clockwise in a circle instead of row by row in one section. See?” He tapped the back of Cherry’s chair where her name glittered.
Jordan glanced at the name and raised her brows. “Cherry Pastor?”
Cherry beamed. “That’s right. Remember that name, Parker. I’m going to be a dancing star.”
“I’m sure you will,” Jordan said.
Weren’t there more people with a last name between Par and Pas? When was the person between them going to arrive? Jordan glanced at the chair between Cherry and herself, Gima Parks. Jordan started when a girl in the row before her squealed into a hideous pink phone and flapped her hands excitedly.
“How many of us are here for this?” Jordan asked.
“This year it’s three thousand, eight hundred twenty two,” Cherry waved at a girl six rows over.
“Who’s that?” Giles asked with great interest, eyeing the dark skinned girl with blue eyes.
“Chrystal. She’s a bitch,” Cherry said, keeping a friendly smile on her face.
“She’s hot,” Giles said, adjusting his bow tie.
“She thinks she can sing,” Cherry snorted derisively. “Have you ever heard a Darsana that can sing?”
“No, I don’t think so,” Giles said thoughtfully.
Cherry poked Giles. “Exactly! Darsana don’t create, they’re not supposed to be into the arts. They’re brutal, merciless warriors not poets-”
Giles pinched her arm to alert her to the fact that several Darsana teens were turning in her direction.
“These days, anything is possible,” Giles said with a strained smile.
Cherry shrugged. “I’m getting into Winby’s Art Academy. My family’s been going there for generations.”
“I’ll be happy just to get into Yuk’s Herbal Academy or Opal’s Agriculture Academy,” Giles tapped nervous hands together. “I mean, I’m half Eliten, half Undala but I feel more connected to the earth, you know?”
A guy sitting next to Giles said, “Anything would be fine with me.”
Giles looked horrified. “Don’t say that! What if you end up in a coal mine for the rest of your life or stuck identifying minerals or leaves… No. Don’t jinx yours
elf- but then again, don’t think of anything out of your reach. You need to find a happy medium,” Giles rambled, adjusting his stiff bow.
“Your dad probably rigged the Gem, didn’t he?” Cherry asked Jordan.
“I’m in the same boat as everyone else,” Jordan replied but Cherry didn’t look convinced.
Jordan glanced back and saw Levi in the section beside her, several rows above. He made his way through the crowd until he stood beside her chair. Giles looked Levi up and down like he was a rare species while Cherry’s mouth dropped open. Her gum fell to the floor, unnoticed. Jordan swore Cherry said, “Hubba hubba.”
“It’s a zoo,” Levi observed and fell down a step as a short Asian girl jostled into him.
“Sorry,” she said, glancing at Levi and then Jordan.
She had wavy hair that was so black it had a blue tint to it. On either side of her temples she had a thin braid that gathered in the back. She looked as if she was wearing a crown and her big eyes were calm and not the least bit nervous. She glared at a group of boys roughhousing, making everyone scatter to get out of their way.
“Juveniles,” she said and continued down the steps.
“If her last name is between A and D it could take her half an hour to get to her seat,” Levi said, peering over the crowd to track her progress.
Cherry tapped Jordan none too gently on the shoulder. She must have retrieved her gum from the floor because she was methodically wrapping it around her finger again.
“Introduce me,” Cherry said.
“This is Cherry Pastor,” Jordan said.
Levi shot Jordan a quick, searching glance. You’re kidding me.
I wish.
“This is Levi,” Jordan continued aloud.
Jordan stared, revolted, as Cherry unwrapped her gum from her finger and extended the hand to Levi. He gingerly shook her hand and then ran his hand along his pants leg when he finished. Giles shrank into his seat and looked away as if that would stop Levi from noticing him.
Cherry waved a dismissive hand. “That’s Giles. Anyway, what school does your family have a history of attending?”
“I’m the first one to do this,” Levi said.