AMANI: Reveal (15 page)

Ian Cohen

I swear I had no choice. I couldn’t possibly let Amanda ruin everything I’d built with Meo, just because she’d found out about him.
              Or had she? The second she told me she’d answered Meo’s coop-hole call I seized her, Traveled to the Red Dimension, and tied her to the balcony of a skyscraper under construction parallel to HQ.
              The inconvenience was that I needed to go back later tonight to make sure she was still there… and to feed her. Like I had time for that.
              I did consider killing her. Annoying as she was, she wouldn’t have been a great loss for humanity. But since she’d last been seen in my office, I would’ve had great difficulty convincing my colleagues I was innocent. Plus, I still believed she could be the key to a faster conversion to Judaism, which meant that, in a way—and I hated to admit it—I needed her alive.
              When I’d been certain no one would find her until I could come back, I returned to Amani and called Meo.
              “Is this Ian or his fiancée?” he answered, amusement in his voice.
              “Oh, shut up. What did you tell her?”
              “I said I was your brother, but she knows you pretty well. Didn’t believe a word.” He laughed. “Then she started asking questions about the device she was holding and about me, obviously.”
              “W—what did you say?”
              “Oh, nothing much. Just that we were lovers and this was our only means of communication to keep our relationship a secret.”
              At once, my intestines seemed to boil from inside, sending waves of hot blood into my cheeks. Why had he said that? Speechless, I sat down, taking deep, shaky breath.
             
Say something, Ian. Anything.
              “Ha!” I exclaimed, attempting to laugh normally. “And what d—did she—how—how did she respond?”
             
Worst attempt. Ever.
             
Why was it affecting me so much? I had to get a grip on myself, for goodness’ sake.
              “She said it wasn’t possible since you two were engaged. But she was quite dubious, hesitant—didn’t believe her own excuse.” He didn’t ask me if it were true, if we really were engaged. Instead he went on and said, “So, Ian. What did you do to her? I know you get upset easily. Did you kill her?”
              “I couldn’t. I have to behave if I want the Protectors to trust me. She’s locked up at the top of a building in Red.”
              Meo burst out laughing. “You always surprise me, Ian. Well, I’ll leave you to your problems…”
              “I didn’t call you about Amanda. We—we might have found Amya’s location.”
              Meo’s tone changed radically from easeful to tense and serious. “Where is she?”
              “I believe she is in Sherbrooke, Canada. The call was made from a college called Bishop’s.”
              “Leave it to me; we’ll take care of her.”
              “What do I tell my people? I can’t make them track someone and then do nothing about it.”
              Meo made an impatient noise. “Be creative, Ian. I have to inform my boss. I’ll let you know if we need anything else.”
              And just like that, he hung up. No “thank you.” No “good job.” Nothing at all. Insulted, I kicked my desk and ended up hurting myself even more in the process. Who was I kidding? It was the way Meo worked. One second he was making jokes and the next he was acting like he didn’t care about me at all. Or maybe he simply didn’t… no. That option was out of question. He did. I’d seen it in his eyes in England, when he had spoken to my ear… so close.
              My cell phone rang, making me jump. For a second, I wished it were him. But he would never call on my personal line.
              “Ian,” I snapped.
              “Sir,” a man’s voice spoke. “We might have found information on Miss Priam’s location.”
              I exhaled sharply. “I already know that. Henry told me earlier.”
              It was getting late; all I wanted was to get some dinner, find an office and write a short, falsified report for my father, and sleep the rest of the day off.
              “Er… It isn’t possible, sir. We just received words from someone who says they saw her.”
              “Saw her? Who saw her? She’s not even in the States.”
              “How did you know that? Sir, she was located outside the University of—”
              “Bishop’s, I know. Henry already told me.” Patience wasn’t my strong suit, and if he kept going on that path, he was going to find out.
              “Bishop’s? No. Not at all. I don’t even know where—that’s not important. We don’t have much time. If the Rascals know we found her, they might try to make a move…”
              “The Rascals?” I started, but then it clicked. He wasn’t talking about Amya. This wasn’t one of Henry’s contacts. He was a Protector who’d been working on Delilah’s case on Michelle’s order. “Oh, hm, right!” I immediately corrected. No one at HQ except for Henry could know about Operation R. “You found Miss Delilah Priam, is that correct?”
              “Yes, sir. Who else?”
              “Well, I am currently working on many cases, if you must know, so you will forgive me if I don’t follow. And I’m very tired. You should have said who you were talking about sooner.”
              “I mentioned Miss Priam quite early in the conversation if I recall correctly…”
              “Are you really arguing with me? This is a waste of time. Just send a team to retrieve her. What are you waiting for?”
              Whoever was speaking hesitated. “I was waiting for your instructions, sir. Whom should I send? And what about the Rascals? It would not be wise to send a team until we know how to kill them…”
              I rolled my eyes though he couldn’t see me. “Tell the Protectors to shoot them in the head. It should hold them back for a while. Before you send anyone, though, please make sure it really was Miss Priam. It would be a waste of energy and capital to send a team on a mistake. Let me know when the information is solid and then we’ll consider planning a rescue mission.”
              “Right. I should receive more data from England soon.”
              “England? Where exactly in England?”
              “Oxford, sir. The girl was spotted just outside Exeter College.”
              I made a pensive noise. “Is that so? Thank you, and I will be waiting for your call,” I said before I hung up.
              The idea of calling Meo was quite an unpleasant one. I was still offended and angry at him for being so inconsiderate. But I had no choice. The Rascals would be ambushed shortly and they would probably kill me if they knew I had orchestrated the attack without their knowledge.
              The call was short, however, and Meo assured me there was no problem because they were already leaving for Canada. He mentioned having found the person they were looking for in Oxford, but did not elaborate. I made sure I was the one who hung up first this time and, satisfied with myself, I headed to the cafeteria, where I wrote down a few words explaining to my father what I had done these last thirty-six hours or so. I also called Henry and told him to wait before sending a team to retrieve Xander. And finally, I ate my dinner, thinking of lending Michelle’s office to my father until her return.
              When everything was settled, my watch indicated seven o’clock. Meo and the other Rascals would be in Canada around one in the morning and, judging by their eagerness to catch Amya, they would probably get to her right away. That gave me a good six hours to eat, take a shower, and sleep.
              Oh, and I
did
have to find a solution about Amanda too…

Amya Priam

With a bag over my head, a bandana stuck in my mouth, and my wrists tied behind my back, I was forced out of Madame M.’s house. I wanted to scream for Samera, but she was already asleep and Xander, Karl, and Madame M. were probably still in the soundproof basement, practicing martial arts.
              Still, I had to try something…
              But just before I could make any sound whatsoever, I heard someone whisper, “Come with us without a fight or there will be consequences.”
              My thoughts immediately went to Delilah. What would they do to her? And most importantly, what had they already done to her?
              So I followed without a scream or a fight. Slowly, I was forced down a long street, which I assumed was College Street. It was freezing cold as I wore neither shoes nor coat, only Madame M.’s spare pajamas. Where were we going like that? Then, at some point, we turned left and walked through—was it a field? No—a railroad. My feet stumbled on the wooden tracks and were it not for the hands around my elbows, restraining me, I would have fallen face down on the ground.
              “Careful there,” the same voice whispered.
              A few feet ahead, I could hear a second person walking slowly and carefully as if blindfolded too, but, unlike me, she kept making muffled screams through her bandana.
              Delilah.
              The second we were finally put side by side, I twisted my body to reach her tied hands with mine. If she knew I was there with her, maybe she would calm down. But as soon as I touched her skin, she bolted away and I heard a
thud
sound as if she’d fallen sideways on the train rail.
              I let a scream escape my mouth, followed by her own, which was much louder and sounded like, “Whoever you are, my father will sue you!”
              At that exact moment, someone removed the bag over my head and, as my eyes adjusted to the glow protruding from six flashlights, I recognized Sine, Patrick, Mary, Adam, Kristin, and Emily, all staring at me with wicked smiles. Then, to my right, Vivian stood up, the bag over her head removed, showing her outraged features. Patrick hurried behind me and untied my hands and bandana, while Adam did the same to Vivian.
              Relief washed over me, as though I’d just been doused with a cold bucket of water over my head.
              “This is not funny!” Vivian snapped. “How dare you wake me in the middle of the night?” she continued, touching her untidy ombré-red hair set in a bun on top of her head. Then her fingers reached her face, which, without so much makeup, was very pretty. She blushed as she avoided glancing in Patrick’s direction. “You could have at least given me a heads up,” she added. “How did you even get in my dorm without a key?”
                “A friend of mine lives there too,” Patrick said. “I asked him to leave the front door open tonight. And apparently you don’t lock your room.”
              Vivian’s blush shined brighter.
              “How did you even know where I was staying?” I then inquired in a much lighter tone than my co-captive.
              Patrick grinned. “That took a bit more preparation. I asked Hibiscus to notify Adam when you left her office this evening. He then followed you to the red house… And don’t worry, we left a note on the couch,” he added, “so that no one will think you’ve been kidnapped.”
              He had no idea how likely that would be.
              “Thanks,” I said through my clattering teeth.
              “All right! Now that we’re all here, we shall begin!”
              “And what exactly are we doing?” I asked.
              Fear for my sister had vanished, but I was still wondering why Patrick had gone to such lengths to get us all out here in the middle of the night.
                “One word,” Emily replied darkly. “Initiation.”
              I looked sideways at Vivian but she ignored me, crossing her arms over her chest. I had this strange impression that she would have preferred to be the only initiate tonight.
              “Obviously you are going to compete against each other,” Patrick said. “Throughout the next hours, you will be assigned a list of tasks. Your goal is to complete them as fast as you can. The first one that succeeds wins.” He pulled out two very large onesies from a backpack at his feet, as well as a pair of pink scarves similar to his. “It’s very chilly outside, so I brought you those. They’re, um, a friend of mine’s.”
              He tossed the pink onesie to me and the purple one to Vivian. We immediately put them on and fashioned the scarves around our necks.
              “Wow,” Adam said, covering his chuckles. “I’m glad you found me two years ago, Pat.”
              “Wait, you didn’t go through an initiation?” Vivian snarled.
              “Sure, we all did,” Adam replied, clearly amused by her frustration. “But mine was at the beginning of the school year, so we didn’t have to wear
these
.”
              Vivian crossed her arms in front of her chest and sulked. I had to pinch my arm to prevent myself from laughing.
              I had never been through an initiation rite and I looked forward to the experience. As for the ridiculously pastel onesie I had to wear, it was warm and that was all that mattered for me right now.
              “I look like freaking Tinky Winky,” Vivian muttered.
              At once, Kristin, Adam, and I burst out laughing and I was unable to stop until I saw the look Vivian was giving me, which I was certain would have made Dr. Harold Shipman—also known as Dr. Death, the worst British serial killer—flinch. I swallowed, pressed my lips together, and looked away.
              “I’m going to need two volunteers who will follow our initiates throughout their tasks and make sure they don’t cheat.” Patrick said.
              Kristin’s hand reared up like lightning. “Me! Please choose me!” she repeated, jumping up and down. “I want to go!”
             
How can she have so much energy in the middle of the night?
I wondered.
              “All right, Kristin, you can follow Vivian. Anyone else? Emily?”
              “Not in a thousand years.”
              “Anyone?”
              They all looked exhausted, but after only a few seconds, Mary’s hand raised hesitantly just above her elbow. “I can go, if there’s no one else…”
              “Awesome!” Patrick shouted. “Then we shall begin.” He dug up two pieces of paper in his bag and handed one to each Vivian and me. “This is what you have to do. I’m giving you one minute to read it, then the clock starts and you have one hour to come back here. That means you need to be back at two-thirty A.M.” He squinted, a smirk across his face, and took his phone out of his pocket. “The minute starts…
now
!”
              I unfolded the sheet and positioned it under Mary’s flashlight. It read:
             
             
-Eat a Big Mac in less than thirty seconds (start again if you don’t succeed)
              -Break into the library and steal a book (you will take it back tomorrow)
              -Kiss someone on the mouth
              -Find one person who can do a backflip (do not attempt it yourself if you can’t)
              -Come back to the railroad before the end of the hour
              “How am I going to do all this in an hour?” I asked Mary, but she only shook her head.
              “The minute’s passed!” Patrick announced. “Ready? Set. GO!”
              I was still staring at the list when Kristin broke into a run, dragging a reluctant Vivian behind.
              Mary and I looked at each other, smiled, and shrugged.
              “They’re heading toward the McDonalds,” she said, “So we could start with the second task.”
              “Why not!”
              “Good luck!” I heard Adam shout behind us as we jogged toward the street, and then down on College.
              I was surprised to see we weren’t the only ones awake at this hour. Several students seemed to be walking toward Reed Street, bottles of alcohol in their hands.
              “Is there a party every night?” I asked.
              “Most nights, yes,” Mary answered shyly.
              The thing was, I couldn’t even remember if it was the same at Princeton, so maybe this was what college life was like. Attend classes during the day and parties at night.
              Bishop’s campus was deserted when we arrived in front of the library.
              “Let’s walk around the building, see if there isn’t a window open,” Mary suggested.
              And to my great surprise, there was one, just big enough for me to go through. Beaming with excitement, I told her to wait outside and I managed to glide over to the other side. Having no experience whatsoever in breaking into buildings through open windows, I fell face-first on the floor of the computer room.
              “Ow!”
              “Are you all right?” Mary whispered.
              “Yeah. I’ll be back in a minute.”
              “I’ll keep guard. If you hear”—she imitated a wolf howling sound—“hide.”
                That was far from reassuring. I hadn’t thought about it before, but what if there was a guard inside? Or an alarm system? What if a librarian slept in the library every night to make sure no student tried to break in?
             
That’s a ridiculous idea
, a small voice inside my head argued.
              Leaving the computer room, I remembered I’d seen bookshelves in a room with long rectangular tables on the first floor. Unfortunately, the door was locked. Great. Trying to be as silent as I could, I ran up the stairs and was relieved to find the door leading to several shelves packed with dusty books open. I secretly longed to spend the rest of the night in the library, going through all the titles, but I knew the time was ticking and I had to go back to Mary. So I grabbed the first book I could and headed back outside.
              In the middle of the stairs, I froze, goose bumps lifting every single hair on my body. There, leaning against the staircase, was a silhouette.