Ignited (35 page)

As we crossed the Grand Salon, Xavier said, “Your grandfather thinks you’re naïve, but I know better.” He sent me a sidelong glance. “You planned to get your sister out of here.”

I gave him a vague look. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His grip on my shoulder tightened, but I met his glance defiantly, refusing to cry out. “I don’t believe you,” he said slowly. “You have a plan. I just wonder how many steps you are ahead of him.” He tilted his head at my grandfather’s back. Then he spoke over his shoulder to Mark. “I’m betting she has backup. Keep an eye out for anyone following us.”

I hoped everyone heard that command through the com and stayed hidden.

Our odd group reached the sidewalk outside the British Museum. My grandfather shifted to walk at my side, and I prayed my hair still hid the earpiece I wore. I fought against the urge to fidget.

“You told your sister to run if your father wasn’t with us,” Franc said. It wasn’t a question, and I wondered if he’d heard Xavier. It didn’t make sense to deny it any longer.

I stared straight ahead. “You broke your side of the deal, so I broke mine. Did you really think that I would let you get your hands on her after what you did to me?”

My grandfather almost looked proud.

“You don’t need her, you know. She’s powerless,” I added.

Franc nodded like I’d confirmed what he already knew. “So your father said after we tortured him.”

His words had their desired effect. A fresh wave of agony flooded through me as I imagined what they had done to my father in the last six months, and I stumbled. Only Xavier’s hold on me kept me moving forward.

“I hate you,” I told my grandfather in a bleak voice.

For a moment, his eyes clouded like my words pained him, but then he gave a slight nod. “I can live with that.”

We continued in silence, and soon I saw a sign that read BLOOMSBURY SQUARE CAR PARK. Panic swelled in my chest.
Not yet! I haven’t heard from Gabe.

I scrambled to find a way to stall my grandfather and latched on to a new topic. “You know my grandmother’s ancestors started the war between the Protectors and the Healers.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Did she ever mention a Healer named Camille Lovellette?”

His eyes widened, and he paused outside the car park entrance like I’d hoped. “Her ancestor. Did your mother tell you this?”

I ignored his question. “Camille married a guy named Martin Dubois in 1853. They had a daughter named—”

“Elizabeth,” he finished. “She was a powerful Healer by all accounts.”

“Did you know that she abused her power? Protectors died because of Elizabeth, and they finally rose up against her and the others like her.”

“Are you saying that you agree with how the Protectors slaughtered the Healers?” Franc asked in a furious voice.

I shook my head, answering truthfully. “No, but I understand why it happened. The Healers abused the Protectors. The Protectors turned on the Healers. And before that, the Healers turned on the ones like me descended from both bloodlines.” I held out both hands, palms up. “And now you want to bring war to the Protectors’ doorstep again. Where does it end, Franc? How many people have to die?”

Part of me hoped that he could see reason. My upbringing had taught me an inescapable lesson. Violence just brought more violence in an unending cycle. If Franc killed the Protectors, they would simply turn the tables on him.

“It ends when I get what I want,” he said. With Xavier and Mark and who knew who else in earshot, Franc didn’t dare add that what he wanted was every Protector dead. It was a dangerous game that he was playing, intending to double-cross these men when they could kill him with a flick of a wrist. I’d warn them, but they’d never believe me.

“No matter who gets hurt?” I challenged.

“Yes,” my grandfather answered simply. He turned away, entering the car park, and Xavier shoved me after him.

Franc’s answer prodded a fire that flared to life in my belly. “What about Erin? Alcais killed her. Didn’t she matter?”

He looked away, and for a moment, I thought it was grief that I was seeing. Except when he turned to face me again, he shrugged. “There are casualties in every war.”

Erin had died, and he dismissed her as if she were a stranger. She’d once looked up to him, trusted him to protect her. The same way his entire community believed in him. “And the Healers like Yvette that you’ve sacrificed to the Protectors? Were they just casualties, too?”

“Yes,” he said, without a hint of apology. “I’m doing what I have to.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but Gabe’s voice suddenly blasted in my ear. “Remy, Alcais ran away when he saw us. We’ve got your dad, sweetheart. Get the hell out of there.”

His announcement blew through my defenses and uncoiled the knot in my stomach. My chin dropped my chin to my chest as I struggled to contain my emotions. It was impossible, though. For the first time in six months, my father and sister were safe. Tears freely fell, and I didn’t bother to hide them as I climbed into an elevator with Franc and six Protectors.

“Let’s go!” Franc snapped when the elevator doors opened on another deserted level. We approached a black car with tinted windows. Gabe and the others were nowhere in sight. I spared a thought to wonder what they had done with Alcais when they took my father from him. Franc reached for a door handle, but I stopped. Xavier tried to push me forward, but I stood my ground as the other Protectors encircled me.

“Wait,” I said in a calm voice. “I have something to show you.”

“Remy?” Gabe asked. I ignored him.

My grandfather’s brows drew together in confusion, and I reached into my coat pocket. I grasped the mobile phone, hit speaker, and held it up between us. The lit screen showed a counter ticking away the time that the call had been connected. The caller ID read
Erin’s House
.

Franc swiped the phone from my hand. “Who’s there?” he asked cautiously. I could see him trying to figure out what the person might have heard and what kind of damage it might have caused.

There was a long pause, and then Erin’s mother whispered, “You bastard.”

The helpless look on my grandfather’s face satisfied a dark need for revenge. Only Asher knew about this part of the plan.
Protect the Healers.
In the end, I hadn’t been 100 percent sure that Seamus would be on my side—he was a Protector, after all, and Protectors had spent a century killing Healers. Maybe that wasn’t fair, but I didn’t know Seamus well, and I’d learned that you had to choose whom you trusted with great care and prejudice.

“Remy said you betrayed us, and I called her a liar. But it was you all along. Everything that happened . . . The people who died. My daughter. Oh God, my daughter.”

Dorthea’s voice cracked on an agonized whimper, and her grief tumbled over me. I wished things could be different, and that I’d warned them sooner. Maybe Erin would be alive if I’d found a way to convince them. I guessed that Dorthea would blame me, too, and I thought she would probably blame herself. She’d put her trust in the wrong people, and it had cost her both children.

“Dorthea, they didn’t die in vain,” my grandfather pleaded. “This is a war we are fighting, and some people must be sacrificed. As much as it hurts.”

As I listened to Franc, it struck me that the danger of a man like him was in his passion. His voice rang with sincerity. He believed in his cause as crazy as it was. Who knew how it affected Dorthea?

Then Franc added, “Ask Alcais. He’ll explain it to you so you’ll understand. Your son understands.”

A movement on the other side of the car caught my attention. A shadow moved, and I realized Alcais hadn’t run away after all.

Dorthea made a choking sound. “I heard what you said about him. You’ve turned my son into a monster like you.”

“Dorthea, please—”

“No!” she shouted. “Not another word. You’re finished with the Healers, Franc. I’m going to tell everyone what you’ve done, and we’re going to leave this place. If you try to find us, I’ll kill you myself. And you tell my son . . .” She took a deep breath. “Tell Alcais that he’s dead to me.”

She hung up, and two things happened. Alcais stepped out of the shadows, and my cheek exploded when Franc struck me with my phone. I fell to my knees on the concrete, raising a hand to the already bleeding gash.

“Remy?” Gabe shouted, and I could hear the panic in his voice. “Please, get out of there! Somebody help her!” When I didn’t answer, he continued to shout for the others to get to me.

Once, fear would have swallowed me, but I had changed. I was not that girl who had trembled before Dean. I would survive this, too. I dropped my hand to my side and gazed up at my grandfather. Whatever he saw in my expression, he took a step back, and then scowled at his own reaction.

My steady voice echoed in the parking lot. “I’m just a stupid girl. That’s what you thought, right? Easy to control, and easier to trick.” I shook my head in disgust. “I knew you wouldn’t bring my father here. Tell him, Alcais.”

My grandfather watched Alcais approach, and ran to yank open the car door. Shock crossed his face when he found the interior empty, and he stared at Alcais with accusation. The boy wore a shattered expression, but I didn’t pity him. He’d killed his sister, and now he couldn’t return to his home. He’d made his decisions.

I rose to my feet, dropping my mental guard and flexing my power as I stood. I sensed Xavier and Mark retreating a few steps behind me, their fear of me tangible. The remaining six Protectors frowned as the surge of my energy caused them pain, but they didn’t have the sense to back away.

“You lose, Franc. You have nothing. You are nothing. And this war is over.”

His shoulders tensed, and he swung about in slow motion, pulling a knife from his pocket. “No, Remy,” he breathed. “It won’t ever be over for you. You may have rescued your father, but I’ll find him and your sister. And when I do, I’m going to make you watch as I destroy them. You’ll never escape me.”

I’d never been hated with such an intense fire. The heat burned me from where I stood, and I knew that he was right. This would never be over because he had nothing to live for but his vendetta. He loved no one, and I suspected that the best part of him had died along with my grandmother.

“Let it go, Franc,” I said. “Please. Before it’s too late.”

He threw back his head and laughed. “What do you think you’re going to do? It’s you against all of us. You’re alone.”

“No, she’s not,” Asher said.

His voice sounded in my ear and echoed around me. I glanced over my shoulder and there they were: Asher, Edith, Ursula, Sean, and four of the Protectors who had watched over Lucy and me at the museum. They had come out of the stairwell instead of the elevator, and they spread out, slowly closing in on us.

I shared a glance with Asher.
Are you ready to do this?
He could no longer hear my thoughts, but he didn’t have to. He knew me better than most, and he nodded in answer. We had to put on a good show for Franc and the others, or they would never leave my family alone.

Balancing on the balls of my feet, I turned to face my grandfather. My plan hinged on my grandfather’s arrogance and his belief that I would sacrifice anything in my desperation to have some kind of family. But what if I was wrong? My fingers curled into fists, and I invaded his space, coming within inches of him, so that I had to peer up at him. It made me sick to get so close. “Last chance, Franc. Walk away or die. You choose.”

For a moment, fear yawned across his face. Then my grandfather smirked as I’d guessed he would, and he stared into my eyes. “You won’t kill me. Your heart makes you weak and in the end, you’ll lose.”

And there it was—his certainty that he knew me. He understood better than most that I could flip the pain back on him and still his knife slid between my ribs, slicing through skin and tissue with a wet sound.
Stupid man.
The pain slammed into me, and I sucked in a breath. Around us, the garage erupted with motion and chaos as my friends jumped into the fray to fight Franc’s men, but my gaze never left my grandfather’s face.

He twisted the knife, and I moaned at the new shock of pain, laying my hand over his on the hilt of the weapon. He bent to whisper in my ear. “I always planned to kill you. Once I knew what you were, it made me sick to look at you. I’m only sorry that your mother died before I could make her regret betraying our kind.”

“Thank you,” I said.

His head jerked back in confusion. “For what?”

“For making it so easy to do this.”

Violent red light struck him. His hand jerked under mine, and then fell away as he stumbled backward a step. The knife still protruded from me, but blood bloomed across his chest, staining his shirt as a twin injury ripped his skin open. His eyes widened in pain and disbelief as he stared at the growing scarlet stain. The blood loss weakened him, making him light-headed. I knew this because I felt the same. I swayed on my feet and yanked the knife out. It clattered to the ground when my cold fingers couldn’t hold on to it. I forced myself to concentrate my energy enough to slow the bleeding in my chest—not enough to heal it because that wasn’t my intent yet. I’d worried that I wouldn’t have enough control to do this with my new powers, but it worked just like I’d hoped.

Franc dropped to his knees in front of me, and his fingers clutched at my waist. “Heal me!”

I shook my head and moved out of his reach. “I won’t let you hurt my family again.”

I’d thought that my fury would carry me through this moment, but my breath hitched on a sob. My grandfather’s skin paled, turning a shade of gray, and I realized that I was still shaking my head, on the verge of hysteria. This wasn’t me. I wasn’t this person. I healed people. I didn’t murder them.

But wasn’t it justified? He would kill me if I didn’t strike first. I’d even counted on him to wound me, so that I could use my injuries against him. An eye for an eye in the truest sense. So why did I feel so sick, watching my grandfather collapse on the ground? Bile rose up in my throat, and I covered my mouth.