Twenty-Eight
The pavement became gravel, and after a few minutes Thea stopped her little Honda in front of that same enormous cypress. A plywood board sat across the ravine now, thank goodness. She closed her eyes for a moment. I can do this. I have to. When she opened them again, her gaze rested on the black bag on the passenger seat. At least one thing was going to work out in her favor today.
Thea left her lace dress inside the car, the familiar Black Coats uniform snug on her body, her favorite sneakers on her feet. If I am going to run, it is not going to be in these stupid ballet slippers. She took a deep breath and raised her head, with her eyes trained on that black iron weathervane, the skeletal butterfly turning slowly in the breeze.
Please be okay, Drew.
She tried to move as quietly as possible as she neared the house, her footsteps light and fast. Around the perimeter of Mademoiselle Corday, thick brambles of rosebushes, creeping buttercup thickets, and kudzu draped over a wooden fencing cleverly hid a line of barbed wire. That is the Black Coats, Thea thought, a gold Texas rose adorned with razor-sharp thorns. She made her way to the side of the house, to a small hill where she could view the perimeter. Once she had some adequate cover, she raised her head ever so slightly, her hands curling in the dirt.
Shit. Around the perimeter of the house, every member of both Swallowtail and Emperor stood in a curved line surrounding Mademoiselle Corday. Some of the girls looked bored—as they were, no doubt—but some of them looked hungry and mean, particularly Valentina and her horde of Emperor nasties.
There was no way Thea was getting through them. She looked at the ground for a minute and then back toward the house. Maybe I don’t need to go through them. Instead of fighting them, perhaps she could enlist them. Maybe, just maybe, she could lead them.
She took a deep breath and stood, losing the ground cover she had worked so hard to achieve. “Hey!”
A dozen heads jerked her direction, looks of shock upon their faces. “It’s her!” one of the girls from Swallowtail yelled. “It’s Thea!”
Valentina whipped out a switchblade as the whole of the Black Coats surged toward her. “They told us you would come back.” She smiled cruelly. “Fancy a dance, traitor?”
Thea swallowed nervously but still stepped toward the house, and the girls. Her boldness took them by surprise. Some of them stopped moving, confused as to why she was coming toward them, but Team Emperor was still swiftly making their way across the lawn. Thea whipped her head around, looking for something that would give her a height advantage, and there it was: a picnic table flanked by antique planters. On the count of three Thea darted for it, leaping over the barbed wire and racing for the table. She was much faster than the rest of the girls, and the table put her halfway to the house. The old wood of the table gave a shudder as she landed on it and made quick work of kicking over the mason jar candles that sat in the center.
“Stop!” She held out her hands, her voice strong and confident. “Listen to me! The Black Coats aren’t what you think they are!”
Some of the girls from Emperor paused, but Valentina was still moving toward Thea.
She cleared her throat. “I know why you’re here. I know each of us has suffered a loss at the hands of bad men. I know that pain.” Natalie’s smiling face passed through her mind. “These wounds have scarred us forever.” She looked behind her at Mademoiselle Corday, a black fortress disguised as a haven for the hurting. “But this place is not the solution. The Black Coats is a Band-Aid, a distraction from the real pain you feel. It doesn’t heal; it just hides. Do you know what the real purpose of the Black Coats is?”
“Shut up!” screamed Valentina, moving swiftly toward Thea.
Thea ignored her, one finger pointing at the house. “The Black Coats are assassins.” Team Swallowtail stopped moving. “They kill people. The Black Coats, what we do, is nothing more than a training and recruitment organization for the Monarchs. Do you think this house really serves just to entertain teenage girls? To help heal our hearts?” Thea closed her eyes for a moment, remembering the dark thrill of their first Balancings. “I know you don’t want to hear it. I didn’t, either.”
The teams were closer now, almost at the table where she stood. Thea swallowed nervously. “We have done some good, all of us, but we are serving the Monarchs. Even now, you serve the Monarchs.” There was nothing to lose. If it was the last thing she did, she would drag the Black Coats’ dark secrets into the light. “They tried to kill my boyfriend’s father. His name is Adam Porter, and he is a good man and a cop, but he was sniffing around the Black Coats. And so the Monarchs came for him. I was there. He had done nothing to hurt women, and yet the Monarchs attempted to murder him. Is this the kind of organization that you want to belong to?” Thea lowered her voice a little, her heart pounding hard, every hair on her body rising. “I wanted to believe the lie more than anyone.” She raised her eyes to the house. “But this house will tear you apart if you dare question it. And one day, the Monarchs might come for you.”
“I’m going to do them a favor then,” snarled Valentina, lunging toward Thea with the knife slashing out in front of her. Thea spun around, and the cut narrowly missed her shins. Adrenaline mixed with anger flooded her senses and she delivered a hard kick to Valentina’s jaw. The girl staggered backward.
The teams were pressing in on her now, gathering in a circle around the two of them. Team Swallowtail looked confused, distressed. Team Emperor hungrily cheered their leader on as she slashed at her legs, Thea only a second ahead of her. Valentina was ruthless—and skilled. Her knife nicked near Thea’s ankle, drawing blood. Thea let out a cry as the blade cut into her. She spun around, her fist catching the side of Valentine’s head. The girl stumbled, blinking to recover, the knife held in front of her. “I’m going to kill you for that.”
The roar of an engine stopped them both cold. Everyone looked to the west side of the yard, where trees and bushes shook as something gigantic trampled past them. Something with a distinct purr. They all let out a scream as Mirabelle’s silver Audi exploded into the yard. The car crashed through the iron gates that Thea had once stared at in wonder, and skidded through the garden, sending dirt and flowers up into the air. Its tires squealed as it shot around the portico on the side of the house before slamming to a violent stop. There was a second of silence before the engine roared angrily and shot forward toward the teams, who scurried out of the way.
Valentina was momentarily distracted, and Thea used it to her advantage; she dropped to the ground and swept a leg out at Valentina’s feet, her sneaker colliding with the girl’s ankle. Valentina fell with a screech, but as she fell she grabbed an object from the ground and raised her arm again. Thea didn’t even have time to move before she saw the knife glinting in the air, seconds from leaving Valentina’s hand, but before it could, someone grabbed her arm. Neon coral nails gripped hard, and Thea felt gratitude wash over her. She looked into Mirabelle’s furious eyes as the girl squirmed. Valentina might be deadly, but Mirabelle was strong. Inside and out.
“There’s only room for one queen bee here,” she snapped. “And that spot is already taken.”
Valentina snarled and looked at them both. “Some of us are okay with becoming Monarchs.” There were gasps of surprise from the rest of her team, and she shrugged. “You think you are the only one who has had to compromise her conscience? These men deserve to die! This is part of the game—the only game that matters. And even if you don’t want to kill, the Monarchs could get you at any time. You’ll never be safe, your boyfriend and your parents will never be safe, you will—”
A fist flew across her face, and she slumped to the ground with a groan. Thea looked up to see Casey and Louise standing in front of her. Casey glanced over at Team Emperor. “Don’t worry, ladies, I didn’t hit her that hard.” Her eyes met Thea’s, and she shrugged happily. “She was going on and on and I just didn’t want to hear her whole damn tirade. Also, she tried to stab you.”
> Mirabelle stepped over Valentina’s form and looked out at the remaining cluster of girls. “Thea’s right. The Black Coats aren’t what you think they are.” She paused. “I thought I wanted revenge. I got my inheritance. And I looked in his eyes and I understood: causing him pain wouldn’t fix my own.” Mirabelle slowly peeled off her black coat. “I will always fight for justice for women. But not here. Not this way.”
A quiet girl from Swallowtail pulled off her coat. “I knew it,” she whispered to her teammate. “I knew something was weird.”
Thea smiled and stepped forward. “Then fight with us. Fight with . . .”
The crack of a gunshot shattered the moment. Stalking out from the house with a gun raised in her hand, President McKinley was walking toward Team Banner, her black coat blowing around her.
“Grab Team Banner!” she screamed at the two other teams, but it was too late. Thea had sown the seeds of doubt, and they had taken root. Chaos erupted, with girls scattering in all different directions. Team Emperor flew at Team Banner. Some members of Swallowtail turned against Emperor to join with Banner. Two smart girls were running for the edges of the property, done with this whole thing. Everything was a blur, everyone fighting.
What have we done? thought Thea, but beneath that thought drummed a single word. Drew. Drew. Drew.
Louise spun near her, her rapidly moving fists taking down a member of Team Emperor. “Thea, go! Find him!”
“I can’t leave you guys!” shouted Thea, grabbing a girl who reached for Casey and forcing her to the ground.
Mirabelle easily swatted away a girl from Swallowtail. “We’ll find you! Go! We’re fine!” Someone punched Mirabelle in the chest and she staggered backward.
Thea looked at the house and then back at her team. Casey met her eyes, blood pouring from her nose as she grabbed Thea’s shoulder. “Find Drew, but look for Bea, too. I haven’t gotten ahold of her for days. I’m pretty sure . . .” She looked at the house. “She’s in there.”
Thea didn’t need to be told twice; before Casey even finished, Thea was sprinting for the house, darting back and forth between the ongoing fights. McKinley saw her and started sprinting after her, her gun out in front of her. “Thea, stop!”
But Thea couldn’t; she wouldn’t. She weaved through the girls, knowing—no, hoping—that McKinley wouldn’t risk shooting anyone else. She ducked under punches as she flew toward the house, clearing the fray momentarily. Another gunshot cracked through the air, and the black wood balcony behind Thea exploded into splinters, a hail of black pebbles showering around her as her feet pounded the brick paving stones. Behind her she could hear the sounds of fighting, the sounds of girls crying and shouting. A glass lantern next to her shattered as McKinley’s bullet traced over her head. The shots were a warning; McKinley wasn’t trying to kill her, she was trying to stop her. At least, she hoped so. Thea covered her ears from the ringing as another lantern exploded, but her feet kept moving, almost to the top of the stairs now. Her hand closed around the iron door knocker, and her momentum pushed it forward. The heavy door swung open easily, much too easily. The door opened, and a boy’s face stared down at her. Her body froze. “Sahil?”
“I am sorry, Thea.” Then something hard hit her chest and she flew backward, arching in the air before she was tumbling down the stairs, feeling each step knock her body as she hit it. She rolled over twice, her legs and arms hitting the rough wood before she landed hard on the ground below. She blinked. Get up. With a painful groan, she crawled to her knees and then her feet, her body begging her for rest. Instead, she pushed herself up, one hand holding her bruised ribs. Sahil was making his way slowly down the steps to her, white linen fluttering in the wind. He was almost to her now, but what could she do?
She heard Natalie’s voice in her head.
Run.
Thea shot away from the house, her quick movements catching Sahil off guard. “Thea!” he called, a strange disappointment in his voice. His voice dropped menacingly as she plunged into the woods on the side of the house. “I guess I will have to catch you then.”
Branches slapped at her face as she flew through the dense oak trees, her feet pounding frantically. This wasn’t the rhythmic running that she loved so well; this was running for her life, Terror, rather than a quest for speed, propelled her. She didn’t want to win. She wanted to live. She could hear Sahil behind her, twice as fast with swift, determined steps.
Thea was thrashing around, bursting her way through overgrown clumps of kudzu, through bushes and gnarled branches that tangled over the ground, each one threatening to trip her. She veered right, hoping to throw him off, but she could hear him turn behind her, ever closer.
“Thea!” God, he wasn’t even winded. The cut on her ankle courtesy of Valentina was bleeding more now, and each step sent a tiny sliver of pain up her shin. Her ribs ached from the fall down the stairs and something wasn’t right there, but she kept moving. Just run, she thought.
“Thea! Why don’t we just stop and talk?” called Sahil from too close behind her.
“You lied to me!” she screamed. Everything hurts. She was slowing. The woods flew past her in a blur of brown and mottled green. Thea tripped and stumbled, catching herself on the fall, bursting forward again. With a jagged breath, she reached inside of herself, hoping to find a well of strength, something that would push her forward; but instead she found something unexpected: herself. She had to be enough.
Twenty-Nine
The tangled woods spanned out in front of her, more difficult to navigate than before. Sahil was behind her now and closing fast. She couldn’t beat him. She couldn’t lose him. This chase could end when she was winded and outrun, or she could end it here on her own terms. You have to decide to act, she heard Nixon say in her mind. Don’t let him hunt you down like some weak animal, because you’re not. You have to be enough. Her steps slowed as she burst out into a shady glen about a half mile from Mademoiselle Corday. How ironic that even now she also heard Sahil’s voice in her mind. Look around. What weapons do you have? Her eyes darted side to side as her steps fell out of rhythm. Tree trunks, branches, and an overturned, rotted wood bench.
His footsteps were closer now. “Thea, I just want to talk to you. If you would just listen to me!”
Moving deliberately, she tripped over an overturned root. Her knees hit the ground hard and her body rolled forward and slid, coming to rest covered in mud and rotted leaves. She grabbed at her stomach and gasped loudly, her hand curling around a thick branch and pulling it underneath her. Sahil was nearing her; she heard the snap of twigs underneath his feet, heard his easy breathing. A shadow crossed over her and chilled her entire body. “The fastest girl I’ve ever known has a very bad habit of not taking in her surroundings. Thea, you’ve caused a lot of trouble for us with your little boyfriend.” He walked slowly around her.
Thea let out a cry, pretending that she couldn’t breathe. Her hand clutched her stomach protectively. “You’re a Monarch,” she gasped.
“Yes. And I have to do this, Thea. I have to.”
“Are you going to kill me?”
He tilted his head, confusion passing over his features. “Honestly, I do not know what to do with you. You climbed into bed with the son of the man attempting to bring down the Black Coats! What were you thinking?” He barked out a painful laugh. “As if Adam Porter could ever dream of destroying my mother’s organization. I almost feel bad for the man, chasing this bear through the woods, not knowing the whole time that the bear owns the woods and everything else around him. And Drew—such an earnest boy—insists you did not tell him anything. He’s begging us to take him instead of you, as if he were of any use to us.”
Sahil shook his head. “You could have been so much more than this. I saw you, hiding inside that shell of yourself. I pushed you forward; Nixon pushed you forward. We knew that we were working with hardened clay—something that needed to be broken and reformed, a monster made of jagged pieces. And then, you were ever
ything we hoped you would be: a leader, a Black Coat, a runner. You radiated potential.”
Thea whimpered as he pushed her head down against the ground into the wet mud, his face distorted as something battled inside of him. “Thea, I am truly sorry about all this, but I am giving you something Julie will not: mercy.” He crouched down next to her in a deceptively friendly position. “Listen to me. We can still back away from all this. You can still be a part of the Black Coats, of the Monarchs. Once we take care of Adam Porter we can all move forward together.”
“How can you honestly believe that you’re still doing good?” Thea sputtered, her body tightening. “Forcing girls like Bea to do what they don’t want to do is the opposite of what your mother would have wanted. I know in your grief you’re trying to save this thing she built, but, Sahil . . . it’s rotten inside. You know it.”
“Do not speak about my mother,” he hissed, voice thick with pain. “You could not begin to understand what it is like to hold your mother as she dies in your arms, a withered husk of who she once was, a proud survivor of the unthinkable. She found me in an orphanage across the world and made me a fighter. A son. A warrior who stands up for the weak.”
He was close now. Close enough. She was going to have one shot at this. “This isn’t who you are, Sahil,” she whispered. “And your mother is rolling in her very shallow grave.”
She flipped over underneath him, her left arm swinging the branch with all her might. It met Sahil’s temple with a hard crack that trembled up Thea’s arm and into her teeth. He blinked once at her before his eyes rolled up into his head and he collapsed into a heap with his head slumped over Thea’s rib cage. She groaned and wriggled out from underneath his dead weight, rolling his body over so that he was facedown on the forest floor. She leaned over and checked his pulse under the hot skin of his neck; he was breathing. For a moment she watched him as the hazy gray light of the wood filtered over his face. This was a boy who had lost his mother, a boy who was in fact lost to himself.
The Black Coats Page 23