Savior (22 page)

Knowing this, Jameson hastily reached his parent’s shack first, where voices were already conferring inside, signifying we were the last to arrive. Even Theleo, Eli, and the other defectors stood outside, appearing like they had no other place to go.

As we opened the door, I found both families packed into the room, some were pacing in order to relieve their anxious tension.

The second we appeared, voices assaulted our ears. Jameson allowed them to quiet before speaking.

“What do we know?” he asked with a focused concentration.

“The ministry was attacked,” Estelle said, her pitch almost feverish.

“The Sevens' ministry?” asked Jameson for clarification, a question I hadn’t even considered.

“That’s the one,” Charlotte said, wryly. She seemed to be the only person in the room without an emotional reaction to the report.

“Was it us?” Jameson’s father asked him, stopping his pacing long enough to watch his son’s reaction.

“No.” He looked disappointed. “We aren’t ready yet.”

“Then who?”

“We’ll need to figure it out. Who delivered the news?”

“Miss Mabelle and Miss Celia,” said Vinnia.

“Figures…,” grumbled Charlotte. “They always bring news of death or destruction.”

I was surprised she’d picked up on it, too.

“Are they still here?” asked Jameson, quickly scanning the room.

“No,” Charlotte barked.

In a nicer tone, Alison added, “They’re spreading the word.”

“We’ll need to know their source,” said Jameson to Aunt Lizzy, who spent the most time with our housekeepers.

“They said news of it was spreading through our world like wildfire," she replied and, in case her hint wasn’t picked up, she added, “So I’m not sure they have any particular one, dear.”

“Did they know if any of The Sevens were killed?”

My mother suddenly spoke up, attracting attention from the entire room. “All of them lived and whoever attacked will have a challenge finding them again. At this point, they’ll have gone into hiding while reinforcing the ministry with additional Vires. I imagine even Sartorius’ personal army was recalled.” She then quietly settled back, reassuming her impatient attitude.

“But The Sevens were definitely the targets?” asked Jameson, his tone grave.

“Yes,” said Spencer, going on to explain what had happened in his typically articulate manner. “No one was hurt, but they easily could have been. As you know, there are a number of visitors at the ministry at any given time, but when they fled the attack, not a single one was pursued. The attackers were specifically seeking The Sevens.”

Jameson nodded, his gaze sinking to the floor. When his head lifted, there was a rigidity in him that reflected the resolve he felt. “Do we know anything about the attackers?”

No one spoke immediately, all of them appearing reserved and baffled.

“Anything at all?” Jameson pressed.

“People said,” Oscar ventured hesitantly, “that the attack came from above, like a swarm of birds.”

“Birds?”

“It was at night, so those on the ground had impaired vision; and when the swarm began, they ran inside, thinking the attackers were coming for them. No one got a good look, but they left enough damage to show their force.”

“It just doesn’t make sense. Maybe the birds were trained?” Spencer suggested.

“Or they simply looked like birds,” Jameson considered out loud.

Dillon turned sharply toward him, amazed. “You don’t think they were people?”

“We don’t know anything yet,” replied Jameson, tight lipped, turning to my mother. “Isabella, you have friends at the ministry?”

She tipped her head once.

“Theleo,” said Jameson, turning toward him. “Do you have any confidants on the inside?”

Instantly comprehending Jameson’s plan of action, my mother interjected.

“I won’t give up their identities,” she vowed.

“Well, we can’t ask you to go…not in this climate.”

“You don’t need to. I’ll volunteer.”

“No,” I declared, stepping forward in opposition.

Despite my opinion in the matter, Eli slipped the black cloak from his shoulders, the same kind worn by those living and visiting at the ministry, and quietly extended it to my mother. She was flustered at what would be considered a selfless act by someone she still believed to be a Vire, but it didn't last. Taking it, she gave him a nod of appreciation, albeit a slight one; and he replied with the same. It was an exchange of silent respect between those who would be deemed enemies, and it stunned the room.

“Mother,” I said, again in resistance.

She ignored me, already heading for the door, where Theleo stood observing. “We’ll need to land on the north side, where the ministry is most vulnerable.”

Her voice immediately faded as she stepped across the threshold and Theleo lifted them into the night sky.

The discussion ended there, as everyone quietly shuffled back to their shacks to await news from my mother and her sources.

I didn’t sleep at all the rest of the night, despite Jameson’s repeated requests. The memory of my mother in rags being led through a dark chamber door lay like cement on the forefront of my consciousness, immovable and ever present. If she were caught again, however, there would be no imprisonment. They had no more need for her, knowing that their first attempt to lure me in using my mother had ended in dismal failure. No, her body would be annihilated and discarded like so many other innocent lives had been.

Only the steady rhythm of Jameson’s rising and falling chest offered some comfort. It had a consistency, a reliability that was lacking in my life.

Over the course of the passing hours, sometime between the call of an owl and the chortle of morning birds, a chill settled in the air, reminding me of two things. First, fall had arrived. Second, with it, school had started.

Classes had begun…I lay consumed by this realization as an idea began to develop alongside it, one too hazy to recognize initially.

Homerooms were designated. School books were ordered. Lesson plans had been prepared. Jameson and his siblings, along with my cousin and I, would be the only ones not present for it all. But plenty of others would be….

Students would be flooding back on campus.

One in particular, the one who could visit the dead.

Then it dawned on me what I needed to do, and the fog from my breath grew thicker as my excitement increased.

If anyone could tell us who would have the capability to attack The Sevens and survive, it would be one of their own relatives. And Sartorius’ son, my father, could only be reached through one person on this earth…another student at The Academy of the Immaculate Heart…Maggie Tanner.

With incredible precision, I lifted the blanket off me and slipped out of bed, peeking over my shoulder to make certain Jameson hadn't been disturbed. Leaving the cloak on the chair where I’d hung it, I picked up my boots and crept out the door.

I would have asked Jameson to come with me but we’d be far too obvious. The fact I was a Weatherford and he was a Caldwell, and we were together, continued to draw attention to us, even outside our world. I would have much better luck getting on and off campus without my famous arch enemy beside me.

Getting through the village was no problem. I’d watched Jameson start and maneuver his boat enough times that I was able to navigate it fairly well on my own, if I do say so myself. But as I entered the space between the end of the village and the shoreline leading to civilization, I realized what I’d done.

I was now completely alone.

If I were to never return, no one would know where to find me or why I’d disappeared. Jameson especially would take the brunt of it, knowing that I’d gone missing while in his presence. He’d never forgive himself.

Brushing aside the feeling of absolute vulnerability, I reminded myself to concentrate on the goal and not about failing to achieve it.

Focus, I told myself, repeating that mantra the entire way to the shore. There, I found Isadora’s rusted, beaten-up truck. After tying the boat to the weathered dock leading to land, I leapt up to the driver’s seat and turned the keys still dangling in the ignition. It was a good thing The Sevens chose remote locations for their prisons, I mused, and turned the keys. The truck rattled, sputtered, and died.

“No,” I muttered. “You won’t stop me from going. You’ll just delay me.”

As if it understood, the truck revved on the second attempt and then settled to a quiet hum.

Driving back to New Orleans was surreal. The last time I’d taken this route I was covered in moldy water and mud, and fleeing an altercation that left two Vires dead. Now, I was dressed in dark jeans and a long-sleeved tee-shirt, nice and clean.

Traffic gradually increased as I approached the city, a welcoming sign that people still existed beyond the perimeter of the village. I was even happy to see the academy as I pulled into the parking lot. It was full, so finding a parking spot was a challenge, causing me to stand out more than I wanted. If any Vires hadn’t returned to the ministry they could be watching me circling the parking lot, I realized. Goosebumps rose on my arms at the thought of it, but I effectively made them disappear with my mantra.

Focus
…

Oddly enough, I’d never actually snuck back
into
school before, so this posed an additional challenge. I figured the best way was to remain inconspicuous, which meant waiting until the students began crowding the hallways between classes. Once I found a parking spot, in the very back of the lot, I waited inside the truck, watching the windows for any sign of movement and searching my surroundings for any sign of a person wearing moldavite. Thirty minutes passed before I saw either one, thankfully it was not the latter. Nonetheless, I was cautious crossing to the school’s main hallway, and, once inside, I breathed a little easier. Unfortunately, that relief only lasted until I heard the latest gossip.

The Academy of the Immaculate Heart was known for passing along information, either true or false, from one student to the next. If medals could be given for speed gossip, this school would take the gold.

I stood just inside the door, directly across from Jameson’s locker. As I stopped and caught myself staring at it, missing him deeply, a voice intruded my thoughts.

“Well what happened to her?” asked a short redhead with a smattering of freckles across her nose. I think her name was Michelle. She had been in Jameson’s third period class last year.

“Who knows…guess that’s why her car isn’t in the parking lot,” said a boy next to her. He was completely unfamiliar to me.

“You know what kind of car she drives?” Michelle asked, mocking him.

“She drives a Knight XV,” he replied in a way that sounded as if Michelle should know what that meant.

“Ewww,” she teased.

“Michelle, it's the only fully armored SUV in the world," he retorted, and for extra emphasis he added, "Only 100 of them were ever made."

“Okay,” she said, tired of him proving his point. “So why has our principal gone missing too, genius?"

I was just about to step into the fray of students when she asked this question. Hearing this, I froze. The fact that our principal had gone missing was curious enough, but then Michelle had said ‘too’ meaning also and more than one. Or maybe it was pure intuition that told me her statement had something to do with why I’d come here.

“Who knows,” said the boy, offhandedly, as if he were commenting on the weather. “All of them are a little weird…Gotta get to class.”

He passed by me, slinging his book bag over his shoulder, oblivious to the impact his conversation had on me.

It took me several long seconds before I could move again, realizing that my time in the busy hallway was quickly coming to an end. Soon, everyone would be back in class and I would be exposed.

Having no idea where Maggie might be, I began searching every face in the crowd. People were rushing at me and crossing my path, but she was shorter than most, which helped eliminate a lot of them right away. Her curly brown hair and petite frame made her that much more distinct. Still, I didn’t see her anywhere in the hallways. And then I learned why.

“That girl who holds séances?” asked a female voice behind me.

I was on the second floor of the east wing by then, noting that posters plastering the walls were greeting students back.

“The one who talks to the dead,” the boy walking with her corrected. “Whatever…She’s gone.”

“What do you mean ‘gone’?”

“Gone. Was missing from her spot in Jackson Square for the last few weeks and she hasn’t been in class. Same thing with her boyfriend, Erin.”

“Eran,” said the girl.

“Whatever…They’re gone.”

“Huh,” she mumbled. “Sorta sad. I kinda liked them…”

“Why?” His tone was purely disgusted.

“I don’t know,” she said in a carefree manner. “They made school interesting.”

The boy snorted and replied, mockingly, “Like the Caldwells and Weatherfords?”

I heard him exhale abruptly. Because my focus had remained straight ahead, I couldn’t be sure, but it sounded like she had elbowed him in the ribs.

Apparently, I had been recognized, which effectively ended the conversation right there.

After only a few more steps, I stopped in the middle of the hallway, allowing students to briskly shove by me so they wouldn’t be tardy to their next class. Their effort suddenly seemed mundane as I contemplated something that held far more impact.

The ministry was attacked while Maggie, Eran, and our school principal were all missing. It could be coincidence. They could have a legitimate excuse for not being at school. Jameson, and I and our families certainly did. So why did I have the eerie feeling the two were connected?

I wasn’t given much time to consider it, though, as a boy turned the corner and came to an abrupt halt. It may have been the fact that he appeared to be too old for school or the reflection of a dark green stone hanging from his neck, but I knew instantly that not all Vires had returned to the ministry.

The last student slipped around the corner past the now motionless Vire, not bothering to give him a second glance. He was too busy hurrying to class.