The Deadly Nightshade (23 page)

Chapter 42

Not even thirty seconds have passed since Savannah left when Claire approaches me. By now the patch of hair I ripped out of her head has filled in nicely and sprouted a little blond tuft. To think almost three months ago I wouldn’t have hesitated to beat her face bloody given the chance, and now we greet each other with a friendly smile.

“Hey, Reina wants to see you. Says it’s urgent.”

I figured this would happen. Whatever rumors Savannah heard about my upcoming departure must have passed through Reina’s ears as well. I wonder what new cunning tactic she will employ this time to keep me from leaving. Whether she’s aware of it or not, this can only end one way, and that’s with me exiting through that iron gate. She can’t force me to stay. I mean, what could she possibly do? Lock me up? Keep me under surveillance? What good would I be to her then? No, I’m sure she wouldn’t take such drastic measures. And if she does, well, all I’d have to do is tell her about Roman and she would throw me out of Sweetbriar with her own two hands.

As I walk to Reina’s house, I wonder why she sent Claire to fetch me instead of Nate and why she didn’t order Claire to escort me there if she doesn’t trust me. But I suppose neither of the answers to those questions is important. What
is
important is that I brace myself for whatever trick Sweetbriar’s leader is about to pull. When I reach the top of the marble staircase, I see her door is open, so I walk right in.

Reina sits at her desk, her hands folded in front of her and her eyes following my every move. Nate stands beside her, stoic as a soldier, and I wonder if there is anything on earth that could make his devotion to this woman waver. I enter slowly, cautiously, preparing to avoid whatever trap has been set for me. As Reina and I lock eyes, she gestures for me to sit down in the chair across from her. Tentatively, I lower myself into the seat.

“You look uncomfortable,” she says. “Is everything alright?”

“I’m fine,” I say flatly, trying not to glance at the lieutenant. “What’s this about?”

“Ah, someone seems to be in a hurry. I am sorry, am I keeping you from something? Do you have somewhere to be?”

I grit my teeth, trying my best to hold back a sarcastic remark. God, how badly I wish I could wipe that red lipstick-covered smirk right off her face.

“I was hoping to meet Connor for lunch, but I suppose whatever this is is more important.”

“Ah, yes, Connor. Dr. Lam informed me this morning that he no longer needs crutches to support him and that he can walk on his own just fine.”

“That’s right. His leg is practically good as new.”

“When you first came here, we made an agreement that you and Connor could stay in Sweetbriar under our protection until he was healed. Now that he is better, I assume your plans are the same?” she asks.

I nod.

“Nightshade, I want to be clear here and let you know you do not
have
to leave. Sweetbriar is your home as long as you want it to be. No one is kicking you out.”

“I know.”

“But it is still your intention to leave?”

“It is.”

Reina sighs and folds her arms across her chest. “May I ask why? Has your stay here not been satisfactory? Surely there must be a reason.”

“Look, Reina, I like Sweetbriar, I really do, and I’m thankful for the hospitality Connor and I have received these past months. This is a lovely town you’ve created, and I understand why you may find it strange that I would want to leave a place like this, but I honestly believe it’s what’s best. I don’t belong here, not like the rest of you do. I was raised to be a wanderer, to hunt and provide for myself and myself only, to be on my own, not to live in a camp among dozens of other people. I’m not suited for this kind of lifestyle.”

Reina muses over this for a minute, clicking her long red fingernails against her desk rhythmically. “I am not so sure I agree with you,” she says, those three little wrinkles returning to her forehead. “You have good decision-making skills, Nightshade, and you do not let emotions get in your way—although you will learn that is not always a good thing. A little passion can be good sometimes, as long as it does not corrupt your mind.”

I shake my head, unsure of what this has to do with anything. “What do you mean?”

Reina stands and walks to the window, her back turned to me. “Is there anything I can do to keep you in Sweetbriar? Anything at all?”

“I’m sorry, but as soon as the sun is up tomorrow I’m leaving. That’s the end of it.”

“I really wish you would reconsider,” she says, turning back to face me. “But you seem set in your decision, and it seems like there is nothing I can say or do to convince you to stay. If you do leave tomorrow, you will receive the weapons we confiscated from you at the gate. Sweetbriar thanks you for your services, and although we regret seeing you go, we wish you a safe journey and a long and healthy life.”

She signals with a flick of her wrist that I am allowed to leave, and I exit the room even more confused than when I entered. Reina seems far too accepting of my departure. This has begun to feel like more of a trap than ever. But maybe she has realized she can’t win, that I will find a way out of here no matter what she does, that I am not an animal caught in a snare and that I am in control of where I stay or go, not her. Either way, I must remain on my guard until tomorrow morning, until my shackles are finally removed and I walk through that iron gate and return to the life I knew before Sweetbriar, the life I have always known.

Chapter 43

Still unsure of what to make of my meeting with Reina, I head to the cafeteria to grab a quick lunch—my last lunch here, I suppose. Upon entering the building, I spot Connor immediately. He holds one of the smaller children by the hand and helps him carry his tray to a table where the other kids sit with Savannah. It’s so strange seeing him without his crutches, but in a way it reminds me of how things used to be before we came here. Noticing me, he says something to Savannah and comes over to meet me.

“Hey, can we talk?” he asks.

I nod. Connor grabs a seat at an empty table and waits for me to get my food. When I join him, I notice his uninjured leg bouncing up and down anxiously under the tabletop and his fingers twitching. He continues fidgeting until I take my seat. I’ve never seen him this jumpy.

“Well? Is something wrong?”

“A lot of people have been talking, you know. They say you’re planning on leaving Sweetbriar soon,” he says.

“Tomorrow,” I affirm.

He shakes his head. “When were you going to tell me? I mean, don’t
I
get a say in this?”

“Connor, I’m not forcing you to come. It’s your decision whether you stay or go, but I’m going.”

His hands ball into fists, and I can see the frustration growing on his face. “How is that even a choice if you’re leaving?” he snaps.

“How is it not? Look, Connor, I don’t care if you want to stay. In fact, I
know
you want to. I see how happy you are here, how well you fit with these people. If this is where you belong, I’m not going to take you away from it.”

“No, Nightshade, you don’t get it. Yes, I love it here and yes, I want to stay more than anything. But if you’re going, then I’m going too. I’ve spent the last six months of my life with you, and six months is long enough to know where I belong. You’re stubborn and hard-headed and impossible to deal with, but you’re my friend and I belong by your side. Without you, Sweetbriar wouldn’t feel like home.”

Although I fight to hide it, a smile spreads across my face. I was wrong about him. He has made his choice, and he has chosen
me.
“What about Savannah?” I ask.

He sighs. “Savannah will understand, and so will the kids.” He turns his head toward the table where his fellow teacher and his seven young pupils are sitting. When he faces me again, the pain in his eyes is visible, strikingly so. He loves that woman and those children. How can I let him leave them behind?

“Connor, why are you doing this?”

“Because I promised myself the moment I met you that I would stick with you no matter what you tried to do to get rid of me,” he says, smirking. “You saved my life, Nightshade. Without you I would still be alone, or dead, and I don’t really know which is worse. I could never let you leave Sweetbriar by yourself.”

“Why not? I do okay on my own, you know that.”

The smirk vanishes from his face, and he is silent for a long time, so long that I almost repeat the question to make sure he heard me. “Yeah, I saw how you were, and you survived—no, more than that, you thrived. But you were nothing like you are now. The old Nightshade would’ve left me to die when Roman’s people came after me, and she wouldn’t have felt any remorse either. The old Nightshade would’ve left Sweetbriar months ago and never looked back. The old Nightshade wouldn’t care about me or any of these people. But you aren’t her anymore. And if you go back to being alone . . . I’m afraid you might become her again, and I don’t want that for you.”

I stare at him, unable to find words. In that moment, I am sure that Connor really does love me. This isn’t an act of loyal devotion or repayment for keeping him alive for so long. No, this runs much deeper than that. He has helped me become the Nightshade I am today, and he will do whatever it takes to keep me from reverting back to my old ways. He’s right—I am no longer the Nightshade my father raised me to be, and though she has kept me alive till now, I’m not sure I ever want to be her again.

After we finish our meal, Connor tells Savannah about our discussion. Her disappointment is visible. It sits in the thin lines that crease her forehead and the subtle downward curl of her lips and the redness in her large green eyes, the same eyes that well with tears and threaten to overflow. She excuses herself from the table and hurries outside, covering her face with her hands as she goes. Connor follows. I remain there with the children, who stare at me questioningly, wondering what could possibly have made their teacher cry. Ash tugs on my sleeve to get my attention.

“Are you and Mr. Hawthorne really going away?” he whispers in my ear when I bend down to hear what he has to say.

“Yes, we are,” I say.

“Forever?”

“Yeah, kiddo. Forever.”

“But why?”

“It’s . . . complicated” is the only explanation I can offer.

He frowns, then hugs me tight, his head pressed against my stomach. I stroke his blond hair lightly and allow the embrace to continue for a moment. When he releases me, I send him back to his seat to finish his lunch. Connor and Savannah reappear just in time. Although the tears are gone from her eyes and a smile has returned to her face, it is not the genuine one I have so often admired.

Connor and I use the rest of the lunch hour to say our goodbyes to our friends and acquaintances. He stays with the children and Savannah for the majority of the time, enjoying what few fleeting moments he has left with them and only getting up to thank Dr. Lam for her help these past few months. I meet up with the members of my hunting and patrol group to let them know the rumors that I am leaving are true. Sophia and Claire hug me and wish me well, telling me not to get into too much trouble out there. Sheppard, with a sad smile on his face, tearfully offers to have a ceremony for Connor and me after lunch to bless our departure, and although I’m not religious I gratefully accept his offer. Nate shakes my hand, thanks me for everything I have done for the group and for being such a great co-leader, and wishes me luck. The lieutenant’s hand lingers on mine for a second or two after the shake is finished, and I gently slip it from his grasp before wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him into a soft embrace, which he sinks into with a long sigh. As Nate releases me, I look upon these four people I have spent nearly three months of my life with. It feels almost surreal to think I will never see them again as of tomorrow morning.

When lunch is over and the majority of the Sweetbriarans have filed out of the cafeteria, Sheppard leads a group of us to the church to begin the ceremony. The procession is made up of Connor and me, my four hunting companions, Mr. and Mrs. Sharma, Dr. Lam, and a few others who decide to watch. Although I’m sure Savannah would want to partake, she is unable to attend because of her responsibility to look after the children, who of course must come first. As we enter the old white church and everyone except Connor, Sheppard, and me take a seat on the wooden pews, I can’t help but think that this is probably the most occupied this church has been in years. The wood floor creaks and groans under the weight of the bodies like an old man stretching his back for the first time in a decade. Sheppard stands at the front, surveying the crowd, a smile playing on his lips. I wonder when the last time he performed a ceremony to an audience of more than a couple people was. Too long, I figure, judging by the look of elation on his face at seeing his church so full.

Sheppard lights a dozen or so candles, filling the room with a beautiful orangey glow. He then asks Connor and me to step forward and face the others, whose eyes bear into us with expectation. As we stand shoulder to shoulder and Sheppard prepares to make his speech, I notice a figure approaching the doorway, her frame black against the white sunlight that shines in from behind her. Before I can make out her face, the click of her heels against the floor gives away her identity. Reina’s brown eyes do a quick sweep of the room, and then finally settle on me. She remains in the back, arms folded across her chest, her usual unreadable expression worn on her face.

“Today, we say goodbye to two friends,” begins Sheppard, his rich voice ringing through the room and bouncing off the walls, echoing all around us. “Although they have only been with us for a few months, I think we can all agree that Nightshade and Connor will leave a lasting impression on each and every one of us here. It is with heavy hearts that we watch them go, but, my friends, this goodbye does not have to be a sorrowful one. While Sweetbriar is our beloved home, it was only meant to be a chapter in their lives, and while that may feel bittersweet to some of you, we must be thankful for the opportunity we have been given to get to know them. These two walked through our gate not by chance or mere coincidence, but by fate and God’s will. And although they were only with us for a short while, we must be thankful for every second we shared with them. Do not feel sad as they exit our lives, but instead reflect upon the memories you have made and the bonds you have created.”

The crowd claps. As I look around this room filled with all of the familiar faces I am leaving behind, I feel my first pang of regret, and it hits me that maybe I don’t want to leave Sweetbriar. It is a good life here. Maybe it is not ideal, and sure it is not what I am accustomed to, but it is a good life. These people have become ingrained in me—in my mind and body and soul—and to just walk away from them forever . . . But it doesn’t matter what I think or feel. I have no choice.

“Nightshade, Connor,” Sheppard addresses us, placing himself in front of Connor first. “All of Sweetbriar wishes you a safe and healthy journey. We will carry you in our hearts for the rest of our lives, and I hope you will carry us in yours. Go with God, my friends. Go with God.”

He makes the sign of the cross in front of Connor’s face, then claps him on the shoulder and embraces him in a hug. After he releases him, Sheppard positions himself in front of me. The preacher smiles down at me, cupping a hand gently against my cheek. I shut my eyes, soaking in the warmth of his touch upon my skin, enjoying every second of it and wondering how long it has been since someone touched me so affectionately. When I open them, he has removed his hand and raised it in front of my forehead, preparing to bless me.

Sheppard hasn’t made it halfway through the sign of the cross when two deafening gunshots ring out.

Panic erupts. People scream. A few duck under the pews for cover. I lock eyes with Reina, whose face has completely drained of color. Somebody outside cries out a warning. Without skipping a beat, Reina flings open the doors and heads in the direction of the noise. The majority of us follow right on her heels.

As we emerge into the street, I draw my swords. There is no doubt in my mind about where those shots came from—beyond the wall. All of Sweetbriar seems to have emerged from their homes and workplaces to see what is happening, and the terror in their eyes only grows as they watch us hurry toward the iron gate looking about as clueless as they must feel. They call out to Reina desperately, asking for an explanation, but they are provided with none. Unsure of what else to do, they follow in our wake.

Two bodies, those of the guards, lie at the entrance to our camp, their faces pressed to the cobblestone and their garments soaked red. Just behind the gate stands a pack—no, not a pack, a gang—of maybe twenty-something men and women, each and every one of them equipped with a firearm. At the head of the group, a large man with long, stringy black hair stands with his narrow chin held high and his thick arms wrapped around a hunting rifle. His black eyes settle on me almost immediately, and a wicked, yellow-toothed grin spreads across his scarred face. As my heart drops in my chest, I can’t help but wonder if this is what fear feels like.

“Good afternoon, folks,” Roman shouts, his deep voice reverberating through the entire town. “Don’t be alarmed now, we just wanna chat.”