Incubus (84 page)

“And if we miss our window?” I asked, frustrated.

“Right now, our primary goal has to be keeping that weapon out of the incubus’s hands,” Hale

said. “There will be another window.”

I stared at him, stricken. “Yeah, in
20 years.
”

Hale looked at his hands, miserable. “The point is, this solstice is not our last chance to attempt

the ritual, once we’ve had time to research it properly.”

“But it’s
my
last chance,” I said. “You want my help to defeat the Lilitu, right? So let me help.

Locking the seal could make a real difference in this war.” Hale wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Dad?” I

turned to Dad. He couldn’t look at me either. “Dad, please.”

Dad stood abruptly. “I can’t,” he said hoarsely, but he looked at Hale as he said it. Hale nodded,

and Dad left the room.

I turned back to Hale. “Why?” It was all I could manage.

“We’ve been fooled before,” Hale said simply. “Whenever something looks too good to be true, it

usually is.”

“No.” Tears burned in my eyes. “Not this time. This time it’s real.”

“We can’t know that,” Hale started.

I stood, ready to blurt out everything. That I had the ingredients for the ritual. That I knew where

the vessel was. That all I needed was his blessing, and I could bring this whole nightmare to an end.

But something stopped me. I could see it in his face. Whoever this Clay was, Hale wouldn’t risk going

against him, even if not acting meant losing the war.

“Screw it,” I muttered. I turned to leave. “I’m going to get something to eat.”

“Braedyn,” Hale called. “Stop. There’s something else we have to discuss.”

“What more is there to say?” I snapped, pausing at the entrance to the foyer.

“I’m calling the spotters back.”

Icy fear flooded into my veins. “Am I supposed to move into the attic or something?”

“No. We’re going to station them at the edge of town with small units of Guardsmen. As far as the

Lilitu are concerned, this is now a closed city. No one in, and no one out.”

I heard Dad on the stair behind me and turned. He saw my distress and opened his arms

wordlessly. I moved forward into his hug, holding onto him, trying to sear this feeling into my

memory.

“So this is it. The final battle is beginning.” The words felt strange on my tongue. One moment,

the final battle was some abstract concept, some epic confrontation for the end of time. Then suddenly

it was here, and the Guard wasn’t ready to act.

As I hugged Dad, I felt a surge of determination. The Guard might not be ready, but
I was.

You wouldn’t think the end of the world was right around the corner. The Guard had stepped up

patrols. We’d see them occasionally in town, walking the streets in pairs, looking for all the world like

boys - albeit extremely fit ones - from the nearby college. They kept their daggers concealed beneath

their jackets or stashed in their bags, ready should the need for weapons arise. Each day more and

more arrived. They came in units of five or seven or 10, filling the Guard’s house until the basement

alone was lined with cots to sleep 50 soldiers.

When the first spotters arrived, Hale started housing teams in empty homes on the outskirts of

town. Lucas started calling them the “outposts” and the name stuck. Dad left to check on the outposts

every day. He’d make rounds, gather intelligence, deliver supplies. Each spotter was charged with

patrolling the five block area surrounding her outpost. Gretchen was the spotter “assigned” to the five

blocks that included my home and school. In that way, Hale insured the entire town was covered—and

that none of the new spotters got the chance to lay eyes on me or my secret.

Seth and I were ready. We had everything we needed for the ritual, and I knew exactly where to go

to find the vessel. Seth pressed me for it’s location once, but I shut him down. When the moment was

right, I would get it. Until then, better to leave it undisturbed. He didn’t look happy, but he dropped

the subject after that. We had to perform the ritual on the solstice; Angela’s notes were very clear

about that. It started at dawn and wasn’t complete until the light of the full moon struck the vessel that

night.

So there was nothing for it but to wait. Only, the waiting was surreal. Everything else in my life

was so achingly, beautifully, pedestrian. Dad insisted we continue going to school, and I can’t say I

minded. Holding onto that last bit of normalcy made the coming battle feel much more like a dream

than a reality.

The one rule that I was forbidden to break was this: I couldn’t tell anyone what was coming. Not

Royal, not Cassie, no one. The Guard believed that knowing the truth would put civilians in more

danger; Lilitu moved through the world silently, their attack was all seduction and manipulation. If we

couldn’t stop the incubus from getting his weapon, or the seal from opening—the end of the world

would start very slowly. Better to let my friends go on, oblivious that the extinction of humanity had

begun. The alternative—telling them the truth—would only paint a target on their backs.

And so each day of school became a bittersweet, living memorial to the lives we might soon be

setting aside. I tried to push the ritual out of my mind. I wanted to immerse myself in every mundane

detail of my life as the days to winter solstice dwindled. Three left. Two left. And then, only one.

Friday, in first period, Cassie gripped my hand tightly as the morning announcements were read.

Fiedler reminded everyone to buy their tickets for the winter musical, opening tomorrow night.

“You’re still coming to dress rehearsal tonight, right?” Cassie asked. She looked as nervous as

Missy did.

I nodded. It seemed like the perfect way to keep my mind off the ritual.

The day went too quickly, slipping away even as I tried to stitch it into my memory. Seth, Lucas,

and I shared a quiet dinner after school, killing time until the dress rehearsal began.

When we returned to campus at six, the sun was just dipping below the horizon in the west.

Inside, the theater was a bustle of energy and nerves. Cassie hovered by the glass doors to the

lobby’s entrance. She lit up when she saw us, and beckoned us inside.

“I’ve saved us some seats,” she said. “Right in the center.”

For a dress rehearsal, the theater was more crowded than I’d expected. We walked down the steps

of one aisle and took our seats. I felt someone glaring at me. I looked around. Amber and Ally scowled

down at me from a few rows behind. Of course they were here; they’d want to support their friend

Missy. I turned my back to them, putting them out of my thoughts. I wasn’t going to let them ruin

tonight.

The lights dimmed, and the music began. I hadn’t expected anything too spectacular, so I was

completely transported by the musical that unfolded. Cassie’s costumes were just one piece of an

inspired production. Missy—I couldn’t believe how well she sang. Lancelot was played by a

sophomore guy I’d never paid much attention to before, but after this performance I was pretty sure

he’d be mobbed by girls for the rest of his career at Coronado Prep. Even the new Mortimer was great.

Lucas took hold of my hand halfway through the first song, and we sat together, watching the

show, sharing the warm energy of that simplest of touches.

When the lights came up for intermission, I turned to Cassie. No part of me had to force

enthusiasm.

“Cassie, it’s—it’s amazing.”

“You think so?” But she was beaming ear to ear. No one in that theater could deny it was a great

show. “It’s all Mr. Hart,” she breathed. “He’s the amazing one.”

My enthusiasm dampened a little, but I shrugged this off. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed

Amber, sneaking out the back of the theater, dialing her cell. Her eyes snagged on me, and for half a

second I saw the glimmer of something that sent an electric current of alarm through my body.

“Excuse me,” I said. “I’ll be right back.”

Seth and Lucas turned to congratulate Cassie. I slipped out of the theater, looking for Amber in the

lobby. She was nowhere to be seen. I glanced around, then caught a flash of motion through the glass

doors at the entrance to the lobby.

Amber was pacing in front of the theater. I walked out of the building in time to catch the end of

her conversation.

“Right. Just be careful. I owe you one.” Amber hung up her cell with a self-satisfied smirk and

turned back to the theater. When she saw me, she froze.

“What was that?” I asked.

Amber’s smile broadened. She shrugged. “A private conversation.” She walked past me back to

the theater. But before she opened the door she turned. “Oh, you’re going to want to stick around. You

won’t want to miss the after-show.” Amber reached for the handle, but I slapped the palm of my hand

against the glass door, preventing her from pulling it open. “Not this again,” she said. “I thought it was

clear after the last time you tried—unsuccessfully—to threaten me. I don’t negotiate with Lilitu.”

“I’m not going to let you hurt another one of my friends.”

“Yeah, you’re kind of running low, aren’t you?” She turned back to the door, dismissing me with a

flip of her icy blond hair. I grabbed her chin and jerked her face back around until I could look into her

eyes. I was about to demand an answer to my question—when I caught a glimmer of Amber’s

thoughts. It wasn’t like the telepathic conversation I’d had with Karayan—because Amber wasn’t

interested in sharing any of her thoughts with me. She tried to shrink back, but I gripped her tighter.

Amber whimpered.

I pressed the index finger of my free hand into the soft skin of her forehead. Images and thoughts

spilled out of her mind. Amber tried to jerk free, but I refused to release her. I saw, through her minds

eye—

Amber standing at her bathroom sink, looking at her reflection. Ripping the front of her shirt open,

scattering buttons across the blue tile floor. Mussing her hair.

Then,
Amber crying in her brother’s arms. She’d told him a story—that Lucas had tried to force

himself on her. That he’d been stalking her, and wouldn’t leave her alone.

Then,
Amber in the living room of her house, with her big brother and three of his friends. Their

faces darkened with anger as she recounted her story again, tearing up in all the right places, until the

boys were whipped into a frenzy of rage.

Then,
the plan taking shape. Amber reluctantly agreeing that something had to be done or who

knows what Lucas might try next. And Amber warning them that Lucas was a good fighter, so they’d

have to find a way to catch him off guard—and get him alone. Ally would lure Lucas into the trap.

Amber would distract Braedyn while it went down. No witnesses. The boys agreed.

I staggered back, releasing Amber. “You’re going to get Lucas killed.”

“They’re not going to—” she started.

“Liar,” I roared. “Get out of my way.”

Amber shrank away from me, sliding out of my way. I grabbed the handle and wrenched the door

open. She glared at me, still stubborn in her conviction. “You could have stopped all of this,” she

whispered.

If I hadn’t been desperate to find Lucas, I don’t think I could have kept myself from clawing her

sanctimonious face off.

He wasn’t in his seat.

Cassie and Seth looked at me strangely when I asked where Lucas was. I realized my voice was

edging into hysteria.

“Um, Ally said something to him and he just left,” Cassie said.

“Where?” I fought the panic rising in my chest. “Where did they go?”

Seth pointed to the side exit, the one that led to the loading dock. “I think they left that way.”

The theater lights started to dim. I pushed my way through the row. When I got to the aisle, I ran

straight for the door, throwing it open and charging into the night.

My eyes adjusted to the darkness almost instantly. I saw Lucas standing at the edge of the parking

lot.

“Lucas!” I shouted. He turned, surprised.