Uprising (Alternate Earth Series, Book 2) (6 page)

“Has there been any word on where they’re keeping Lucifer?” I ask Mason.

“Yes,” Mason replies rather reluctantly, his back stiffening slightly as his gaze drops to the table, “we know where he is. Noel was able to find him and Ava.”

“I’m not going to like the answer to my next question, am I?”

Mason finally meets my gaze. “No. You’re not.”

I take a deep breath. “Where are they being held?”

“They’re being kept inside the White House.”

“Ok,” I say, wondering why this is such a bad thing, “well, I know there will be added security there, but it doesn’t sound impossible.”

“Jess,” Mason says like a warning, to prepare me for what he’s about to say next, “they’re keeping them in the Presidential Emergency Operations Center.”

“Why do you say that like it’s the worst place on earth to be?”

“Because it’s six stories below the East Wing of the White House,” Mason explains. “The only way to get inside is by going through an access tunnel, which has three vault doors leading to the only elevator that goes down to the room. The vault doors can only be opened one way.”

“How are they opened?”

“Only someone with security clearance can get through them. They’re fitted with a biometric access control system.”

“Like the controls Wayne put in Lucifer’s cell?”

“Yes.”

“I assume no one working with the rebellion has the security clearance we need to get through the doors.”

Mason shakes his head. “None of them do.”

“Then what’s the plan?” I ask, not ready to give up on the one hope Xiulan and perhaps thousands of others have to end their pain. “There
is
a plan, right?”

“Brand and his group are working on one,” Mason tells me, not sounding too optimistic about the outcome.

“Which is?” I press.

“Nina is trying to play on the sympathies of a fellow Watcher. Her name is Peyton Kilpatrick.”

“Will’s wife?” I ask, remembering Will mention his wife by name during our attempted rescue mission of Logan and Tristan from Robert’s mansion. “Why would she help us?”

“According to Noel and Xavier, Peyton isn’t like the others under Lucian’s command. She reached out to Xavier a couple of years ago for help. She asked him if he could hide her and her daughter somewhere that Will couldn’t find them. Xavier wasn’t sure if she was just testing him for Lucian or not, so he refused to help her. Since then, she’s made several attempts to escape on her own, but Will always finds them and brings them back home.”

“Why would she help us?” I ask.

“Ava is one of her best friends,” Mason says. “Nina thinks she can talk Peyton into helping us by promising to rescue Ava.”

“How does Peyton have access to the room they’re being held in?”

“She’s one of the few people Ravan considers to be a friend,” Mason says.

“And is she?”

“Yes…and no,” Mason replies hesitantly. “She does genuinely seem to care for Ravan, but she’s also fully aware that opening the seals can destroy this world, one she’s made her home. Peyton doesn’t want to see that happen. All she wants is a chance to live with her daughter in peace, without having to worry about Lucian and the others using her and Dillon in their plans. She wants out, and we might be able to give that to her if she helps us.”

“We should help her get away from them, whether she helps us or not,” I argue, not liking the idea of holding the possibility of freedom over someone’s head just to make them do what we want.

“I’m sure Brand will,” Mason says in an attempt to soothe my ire. “But we have to use what little leverage we have in order to get Lucifer and Ava out of there before it’s too late.”

Mason’s words bring me up short. “What do you mean by ‘too late’?”

“Ava is scheduled to be executed in front of the other angels under Lucian’s command. He wants to make an example of her, and show everyone what can happen to them if they try to betray him.”

“When is this supposed to take place?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

“It’s
that
soon, and Nina is
still
trying to convince Peyton to help us?” I ask, feeling the burden of not having enough time to do what needs to be done.

“Nina’s with her now,” Mason tells me. “I’m confident she’ll be able to convince Peyton to help us.”

Just then, Leah walks back into the kitchen with a bright smile on her face. I watch Xiulan’s expression closely as her daughter leans down and kisses her on the cheek.

“Do the birds like the solarium?” Xiulan asks.

Leah nods. “Oh, yeah. It’s the warmest room in the house. Malcolm says they should be ready to strike out on their own in a couple of weeks. I would really like it if you were here when I release them. I’ll probably become way too attached to them between now and then. I might need your help to let them go.”

Xiulan smiles wanly at her daughter. I’m sure she understands that she won’t be allowed anywhere near Leah in two weeks’ time. She’ll be driven completely insane from the torture of living inside a decomposing body if we can’t get her some help before then.

“I’ll be here if I can,” is all Xiulan can promise her only child.

Leah looks slightly confused by her mother’s answer, but doesn’t question it.

I send out a silent prayer, hoping God hears my plea for His help in rescuing Lucifer. He is the last person in the world I want to owe a favor to, but he’s also Xiulan’s best shot at an honorable death. We need him.
I
need him. I just have to brace myself for what he’ll ask in return for his help. I have a sneaking suspicion the price won’t be cheap, and that it will be one only I can pay.

CHAPTER SIX

Mason and I leave the kitchen to give Leah and her mother some time alone. If Lucifer is able to free Xiulan’s soul from her body, Leah won’t have much longer to spend with her mom. I feel a small sense of guilt for not telling Leah the truth, but it’s really not my secret to tell. As a parent, I can understand why Xiulan wants to keep it from Leah for as long as she can. It would only cause Leah pain to know that she’s about to lose the mother she just found. If I were in Xiulan’s shoes, I would be doing the exact same thing; enjoying what little time I have left with my child, and relishing every moment. I would postpone Leah’s heartache for as long as possible.

Mason and I find Malcolm and Brand speaking with one another in the library.

“Have you heard back from Nina yet?” I ask, needing to know if she’s successfully convinced Peyton to help us.

“Yes,” Brand tells me, not exactly looking happy about the fact. “Peyton has requested that I meet with her in person. I think she wants some reassurances that we’ll keep our end of the bargain if she helps us.”

“I can’t say I blame her,” I say. “She’ll be putting her life at risk if she does what we ask her to.”

“I don’t think it’s her own life that she’s most concerned about,” Brand says. “She’s more worried about her daughter’s well-being and getting her away from her father.”

“Which one?” I ask, knowing how twisted that particular family tree is. “Robert or Will?”

“Strangely enough, Dillon can’t stand her biological father,” Brand tells me. “Her loyalty has always been to Will over anyone else, even her own mother. Dillon’s never respected Peyton. She’s always considered her the weakest member of the family.”

“Why?” I ask.

“I think it’s because her mother submitted to Will’s demand that she sleep with a fellow Watcher in order to become pregnant.”

“Doesn’t Dillon understand Peyton only did that because she wanted a child so badly?”

“Dillon only sees it as her mother being spineless,” Brand replies. “She’s still a child in a lot of ways. She doesn’t see the bigger picture, and how much more her mother loves her than Will does.”

“So what exactly does Peyton want from us?” Mason asks. “If Dillon doesn’t want to leave Will, how are we going to force her to?”

“Peyton has chosen an isolated island in the Pacific Ocean that she wants to move to, and she wants our help to make sure Dillon never escapes from it.”

“And how exactly are you supposed to keep a flying werewolf from leaving?” I ask. “Does she want you to build her daughter a cell that she can’t escape from?”

Brand hesitates, swallowing hard before answering, “She wants us to rip off Dillon’s wings.”

I literally can’t make any words come out of my mouth. I’m too horrified by the imagery of such a barbaric act of cruelty.

Finally, I’m able to say, “How can she ask you to mutilate her own child like that? I thought you just said Peyton loves her daughter.”

“She doesn’t see it as mutilation,” Brand says. “She only sees it as protecting Dillon from herself. I think Peyton’s more worried about the damage being done to her daughter’s soul through Will’s manipulations than she is about taking away Dillon’s ability to fly.”

“And I assume that she wants one of you to do it so Dillon doesn’t know her mother is ordering it to be done,” I speculate.

Brand nods. “Yes.”

“Has she always been this much of a coward?” I ask, feeling my temper get the better of me, and realizing Dillon might be right about her mother’s character. “I don’t see how you can place any faith in someone like that.”

“It’s her weakness for Dillon’s love that makes her the only person willing to help us,” Brand points out. “She’s so desperate for it that she’ll do whatever is necessary to get it.”

“You have to know this isn’t right, Brand,” I state emphatically.

“Right or wrong,” Brand sighs, “it’s our best…no…it’s our only option at the moment. We either do what Peyton wants or lose our chance to save Ava and your Lucifer. I think we need to decide which outcome we can live with.”

“As much as I hate to admit it,” Malcolm says, “we need Lucifer. We need to know if he can release the souls of the infected. If he can, we won’t only be able to save their souls, but also the lives of those they might kill out of spite and jealousy. I don’t really think we have much of a choice here, Jess.”

“It doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“No,” Malcolm agrees, sympathetic to my plight. “You don’t, but you need to be able to live with it for the rest of your life. We all do.”

“Can her wings be removed surgically?” I ask. “Is there a way to make sure she doesn’t have to suffer any more than necessary?”

“The bones in the wings are so strong they can’t be cut by anything man-made,” Brand tells me. “Only someone with our strength can rip them out of their sockets and permanently detach them. Trust me, if there was a less painful way, I would do it, Jess. There just isn’t. The most we can do is to give her a sedative so she isn’t awake while it’s being done.”

I close my eyes and take a deep breath because I know there’s only one decision that can be made in this situation.

“I take it from the grim expressions on your faces that you’ve reached a verdict,” I hear Nina say as she walks into the room to join us.

When I open my eyes, I see Nina take her place beside Brand.

“It wasn’t a question of deciding what needed to be done,” Brand tells her. “It was only a question of whether or not we can live with the outcome.”

“Let me be the one to remove Dillon’s wings,” Nina says, her voice as cold as ice. “There’s no reason anyone else should have to live with the guilt.”

“No,” Brand tells her resolutely, “I’ll do it. If I’m going to make this deal with Peyton, I should be the one who follows through with our promise to her.”

Nina doesn’t say anything as she continues to look at Brand. I think she knows any argument she makes would be wasted on him. However, I do see something behind her eyes that tells me she might be thinking of an alternative to his plan.

“Peyton has asked for one more thing,” Nina tells us.

“What, the mutilation of her daughter isn’t enough for her?” I ask tersely.

Nina raises her hands in the air. “I’m just the messenger here, Jess. Don’t blame me because she likes to make outrageous demands.”

“What else does she want?” Brand asks, sounding wary of Peyton’s next condition to ensure her cooperation.

“She wants us to stage Dillon’s kidnapping.”

“Kidnapping?” Brand asks, looking confused by the request. “Since when are we kidnappers?”

“Peyton wants Dillon to think of her as a hero. Once Dillon sees Peyton attempt a rescue, we give her the sedative and remove her wings. When Dillon wakes up, Peyton will tell Dillon that she did everything she could to stop us from hurting her.”

“I haven’t met this woman yet, but I already don’t like her,” I say, unable to keep my disgust over the entire situation to myself.

“She’s desperate for Dillon’s love,” Nina tells me, not defending what Peyton wanted us to do, but trying to put it into perspective for me. “I don’t agree with her methods. I don’t think anyone here does, but it’s the only way we can get her to help us. That’s just a cold, hard fact. We can stand our ground and refuse her demands, which will mean losing the only chance we have of saving Ava’s life and rescuing your Lucifer, or we can do what she wants and hope we can forgive ourselves later. Which one is more important to you?”

“The choice is clear,” Brand says, not waiting for any of us to make an argument one way or another. “Tell Peyton I’ll meet her by the Bethesda Fountain in Central Park in ten minutes to officially agree to her terms. Also, remind her that this needs to be set up before Ava’s execution is scheduled. We have less than twenty-four hours to do everything.”

Nina nods. “Understood.”

After Nina phases to deliver Brand’s decision to Peyton, I hear him take a deep breath and stand a bit taller. He’s taken on a great burden, one I hope doesn’t break him in the end.

Mason takes me by the hand and says, “JoJo wanted to see you as soon as you woke up. She wouldn’t tell me why, but I promised her I would take you up to her workshop.”

Silently, I’m grateful to escape what’s about to occur next. I don’t want to play a part in Dillon’s torture if I don’t have to.

Mason and I find Gabe, JoJo, Zack, and Chandler busily working in the attic of the mansion. Natural sunlight is able to filter in through the large windows on either end of the open area, bringing a warm glow to JoJo’s workspace. Back home, all of her studios have glass walls. JoJo told me once that natural sunlight was the best to design by. Long tables have been set up for cutting out pieces for the leather outfits. JoJo is sitting in front of her sewing machine, busily stitching a jacket together while the guys are all cutting out pieces at their own individual tables.

“Well, hey, stranger,” Chandler says when he sees me, abruptly abandoning the scissors in his hands with a clatter as he drops them on top of his table. He walks over to me and gives me a big hug before stepping aside so the others can greet me in the same way. “It’s good to see you rested. We were all worried about you and Leah going on so many missions one after the other, without taking any decent breaks. The two of you made the rest of us feel like slackers.”

I look around the room and see two racks filled with at least twenty outfits. Not all of them are made out of one color of leather. I assume that’s because it’s hard to find a large quantity of the same leather in this world, but JoJo has patched the different colored pieces together in a way to make them still look stylish.

“I would hardly call any of you slackers,” I comment, nodding to the clothing. “It looks like you’ve all been busy doing this, plus your other duties.”

“We are doing our best,
mon cherie
,” JoJo assures me. I notice a soft rosiness to JoJo’s cheeks, and her dark hair looks a little glossier and bouncy for some reason. It makes me even more self-conscious about my own appearance…and smell.

“Sorry,” I tell them, tugging on the white t-shirt I’m wearing. “I should have taken a shower before we came up here.”

“Nonsense,” JoJo says, waving a hand in my direction to assure me she isn’t offended by my messy appearance. “I was the one who asked Mason to bring you here as quickly as possible.”

“Though you wouldn’t tell me why…” Mason points out, gently hinting that he too wants to know what JoJo has to say.

“Don’t feel bad. She wouldn’t tell any of us either,” Zack adds.

JoJo takes one of Gabe’s hands and says, “I didn’t want Jess to be the last one to find out that Gabe and I are expecting a little one just because she was out saving the world.”

“Oh, my gosh!” I exclaim, hugging JoJo and then Gabe. “I needed to hear some good news for once. The two of you just made a bad day good again.”

“Bad?” JoJo asks, looking worried. “What has happened,
mon cherie
?”

I shake my head. “Nothing that you need to worry about. It doesn’t concern us. I’m just so happy for the two of you!”

“Does this mean you’re finally going to make an honest man of our Gabe?” Chandler asks with a smile.

“Oh, you Americans and your provincial views on love,” JoJo says with a wave of her hand, in Chandler’s direction. “We will marry when the time is right. I refuse to rush into such a thing just to satisfy other people’s expectations. Our hearts are one. That is all that matters. I do not need a little piece of paper to tell me he is the love of my life. God already knows we belong to one another.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Gabe replies, looking at JoJo the only way a man in love can, with his whole heart open to only her.

“So are we the first people you’ve told?” I ask.

“
Non
,” JoJo says with a small shake of her head, causing her loose curls to bounce against her shoulders. “We decided to tell Malcolm first because our little bundle of joy needs an
ange gardien
. He accepted, of course, because no one else would do for us.”

I didn’t need to know French to understand that they asked Malcolm to be their child’s ‘guardian angel’. Considering the fact that Malcolm was most likely destined to outlive us all, I’m sure Gabe and JoJo knew he would also look after all of their descendants. I doubt they really needed to ask. Malcolm would have done it anyway. But it did give them the chance to thank him while they were still alive, which would mean a lot to Malcolm in the years to come.

Before Mason phases us back to our room so I can freshen up, JoJo hands me a new leather outfit made from the same maroon leather as the one I’m wearing.

“I thought you could use a fresh one,
mon cherie
,” she says. “Bring me back the dirty one you have, and I will have it cleaned for you.”

“Thanks, JoJo,” I say, realizing that I have been living in my leather outfit for the past two weeks. It could most definitely use a good washing.

“And I added in some decorative touches on this one, since I had some extra time,” she adds.

“I swear JoJo, you’re better than a fairy godmother,” I tell her, leaning in to give her a quick peck on the cheek.