Savior (27 page)

I scanned them, one by one, recognizing them all. Peregrine wore the same white robe and Sartorius was dressed in his standard, custom-tailored business suit, his cane with its robust moldavite stone resting easily at his side. The remainder of them wore their chosen style, ranging from a kimono to a turban headdress. Strangely, the only similarity between them was their pasty-white, translucent skin.

I moved up beside Jameson, not willing to let him face them alone. From behind, the rustle of cloth told me that our housekeepers were staying close, too.

“So,” Peregrine began, “this is the girl who will take your life.”

I opened my mouth to retaliate with furious words of rejection, ones that would certainly have escalated the situation. But Jameson’s hand reached out and squeezed mine.

“We accept your offer under one condition,” Jameson stated coolly.

“Bow,” Peregrine commanded in a growl.

Ignoring him, Jameson carried on with his answer. “We will say goodbye to our families. When that condition is fulfilled, your side of the truce will then be honored.”

Peregrine didn’t take Jameson’s rebelliousness well, becoming so heated that his sagging cheeks turned ruby red. Yet, he didn’t repeat his order. Instead, he made a gesture to the Vire closest to Jameson and the man strode toward us. But he didn’t make it very far.

A commotion erupted around us then, drawing my attention to the windows and the door leading to the entryway. I was only vaguely aware that Jameson remained absolutely still, never once cowering from it, not even with glass shattering and flying through the air or with the footsteps crunching the glass and rattling the house around us.

Suddenly, the room filled with more black figures, although these intruders wore cloaks. From beneath the dark shadow of their hoods, I recognized Eli, the defectors, and Theleo, who came to stand between Jameson and the Vire who Peregrine had summoned. Each defector paired with a Vire, increasing the tension in the room to an almost unbearable level.

The Sevens showed no reaction to the arrival of our defenses other than weary irritation, and they gave no credence to the Vires who had turned on them. I determined this was because they had so many more at their disposal.

It seemed like both parties understood that the truce meeting was now a provisional ceasefire.

“Why now, Peregrine?” asked Jameson, breaking the silence. “Why call a truce now?”

“You don’t honestly believe our terms would have been met.” Peregrine seemed astonished that Jameson would believe it himself.

“Not for a second,” confirmed Jameson. “But your truce was elaborately detailed. Why?” He shrugged. “You would have found us just as entertaining without having offered one so well planned. Why now?” he pressed, his stare never leaving Peregrine.

Peregrine’s swollen lips lifted in a reflective grin, emanating confidence as if he was formulating a powerful move in a strategic game. “You haven’t found Kalisha yet, have you?”

My body froze at this statement, with a single thought moving across my consciousness: He knows we are piecing together the records.

Peregrine went on without waiting for an answer. “If you had, you would have reached your allies before we did.”

Allies? I thought and then remembered the record Cornelia had recounted. She had mentioned an ally.

“We no longer need a truce,” concluded Peregrine. He stood waiting for a response, his grin twisting into an obnoxious sneer.

Quickly understanding his insinuations, I realized they had planned on some form of a treaty, albeit a very likely bogus one, which had since been discarded. They no longer needed it because they had something else of greater value…

“You have our allies,” Jameson repeated in a low snarl.

“How does
that
taste in your mouth?” taunted Peregrine. “About as bitter as our pursuit of you has been, I imagine.” He leaned forward, intending to ridicule Jameson further. “And now we have you, too.”

“No,” Jameson replied calmly. “You don’t.”

As the last word left his lips, Jameson swung open his cloak and withdrew a dagger, slicing it through the air and holding it against Peregrine’s neck.

It had been so swift that no one had time to react.

“Your Vires and the other Sevens will leave the room now,” Jameson instructed, his voice even and confident. “Once they are gone, we will leave. At that time, I will decide whether to end your life…or spare it.” And then it was Jameson who leaned in with a taunt. “You see, Peregrine. You do
not
have us. You will
never
have us.”

“Oh, yes,” Peregrine hissed, before jeering at him. “We will.”

Then Peregrine’s hand swept up and reached the handle of the blade. I wasn’t immediately certain of what came next, whether Jameson had pulled it across Peregrine’s throat or Peregrine had done it himself. It wasn't until I saw the blood spilling from the jagged, cavernous wound, flowing down the white robe covering Peregrine’s chest, that I knew for certain. Because it was at that moment, as the fear should have entered the man’s eyes and life should have been departing his body, that Peregrine’s grin deepened. He then tossed his head back and released a howl of laughter.

From this reaction alone, I knew…It had been both of them who drew the blade across his throat.

The room became a battleground then, an ominous swirl of black, miserable shrieks of pain, and a whirling tornado of bodies, glass and wood.

Peregrine reached for Jameson’s throat with a fanatical craziness unlike anything I had ever seen before; but his fingers clutched at empty air.

Jameson had already maneuvered away from him, taking hold of my waist in a steely grip, and heaving me up off my feet. He carried me through the maelstrom, ducking and weaving through explosions of fire and shattering furniture. Either the Vires or The Sevens, or both, were using their abilities to stop us, but we reached the door to the entryway just as Miss Mabelle’s voice screamed over the commotion.

“Incantatio cohibere!"

Cohiber
e
…My mind raced as every Vire was slammed suddenly against the wall, some shattering on impact. Cohibere - I finally recalled – translated to restrain.

I was then bombarded with realization: Our attackers were now pressed to the walls surrounding us, a foot or more above the ground; I’d never heard Miss Mabelle use an incantation before; and she had her cane pointed at the ceiling and was drawing a slow, meticulous circle around the room with it.

Jameson only released me after he understood what had happened.

Miss Mabelle had singlehandedly conquered the Vires.

The Sevens, however, were nowhere in sight.

The defectors removed themselves from the grip of the Vire holding them and moved to the doorway where Jameson and I stood, skirting our housekeepers on the way.

Once they were safely gathered at the exit, Miss Mabelle and Miss Celia could have joined us. The Vires were restrained, probably better than expected. But they didn’t. It seemed they had unfinished business.

In unison, as a small army of two, they marched across the room where a single salmon-colored dress was compressed over the fireplace.

Lacinda stared down at them, dread etched across her genteel features.

“I came to you for your help,” she whispered.

Miss Celia tipped her head back so that Lacinda wouldn’t miss a word she said. ““Ya used two innocent lil’ girls fer yer own purpose.”

Miss Mabelle went on to correct Lacinda further. “Ya told us it was a obligation. Came right inta Celia’s house n’ told us it.”

Lacinda swallowed and the courage in her ebbed.

“Didn’t give us any choice.” Miss Celia shook her head in recollection. “No choice at all.”

Lacinda had apparently heard enough. “I made you the best Voodoo priestess in the world,” she hissed. “A simple ‘thank you’ would be fine.”

Jameson glanced at me then, and I knew he had come to the same realization as me…This woman, Lacinda, had convinced our housekeepers to become Voodoo priestesses and intercede in our lives. But I couldn’t understand why until Miss Mabelle spoke again.

“The joke be on you, Lacinda.” She defiantly jutted out her chin before leaning in to deliver the final blow. “We didn’t become da’ best Voodoo priestesses in da’ world ta serve yer agenda. We did it…to stop it.”

Lacinda’s face contorted from her fury but Miss Mabelle and Miss Celia didn’t wait around for her rant. They left her pinned to the wall, cheeks inflating and deflating rapidly with each huff.

Outside, the air was crisp and cool. I drew it in deeply to clear my thoughts and carry away the stench of fear in Lacinda’s house. The fact that Theleo lifted us swiftly into the sky helped instantly.

When I’d recovered, I turned to Jameson, who was still by my side.

“You…you took Peregrine’s life,” I declared in complete astonishment.

Jameson turned to me with nostrils flaring and a smirk resting lightly on his lips. He was exhilarated by the fact he had overcome one of them; just one meant that others could be killed as well. “They aren’t invincible…are they?”

I laughed under my breath, utterly amazed by him. “No, they aren’t.”

“We’ll be seein’ ‘bout that,” Miss Celia muttered over her shoulder.

Having drawn our attention to them, Jameson called out, “Miss Mabelle, what exactly is that…thing? Because it isn’t a cane.”

The image of her using it to cast against the Vires and compress them against the wall came back to me but was washed away when she grinned mischievously back at us. “Yer world ain’t da’ only ones ta use artifacts.”

Jameson pressed further, wanting a firm answer. “It’s a wand, isn’t it?”

Miss Celia took a fleeting look at her friend before answering for her.

“First of its kind,” attested Miss Celia proudly, even though it wasn’t under her ownership. “Second Century Egyptian. It be the archetype from which all other wands came.”

“Where’d you find it?”

“The Thibodeauxes,” she replied, haughtily. “Been in my family fer four gen'rations.”

“Ya didn’t think you were ‘da only ones to buy from the Thibodeauxes, did ya?” Miss Mabelle said this rhetorically, which became apparent after she and Miss Celia burst into cackling laughter at our expense.

That was a blatant reminder for me of just how long this secret world of ours had been in existence, and when the world of Voodoo had become a part of it.

Despite their mocking, Jameson called out, “I appreciate you using it.”

Miss Mabelle paused in her amusement just long enough to snap back, in her traditionally snide demeanor, “Yer welcome.”

Jameson glanced at me and shrugged. He had grown to understand her as well as anyone could. She would always be somewhat of a mystery, but there was one thing we could count on from Miss Mabelle…attitude.

“So,” I said, changing the subject by gesturing to the defectors who were assuming their typical positions at the head of our group with Theleo. “They never left Lacinda’s, did they? Because you knew The Sevens were there.”

Jameson gave me a half-smile, verifying that I was correct.

“You could have told me.”

“Would it have stopped you from coming?” he asked pointedly, reminding me of our discussion in his shack and that saving me has always been his only goal.

“No.”

He made a gesture to prove he already knew my answer and went on to explain. “I needed to lull The Sevens into a false sense of security. I needed to get them close.”

“Close enough to what?”

“I needed them close,” he reiterated firmly.

Reading his intentions, I filled in the blanks. Close enough to attack.

“That’s why you didn’t want me there,” I speculated out loud. “You wanted to drive them out of hiding to take their lives….”

“I didn’t want you there regardless,” he corrected me. “And I wasn’t aiming for all seven. I just needed one."

That was a motive I understood without him needing to explain. Taking the life of one would accomplish so much. It would prove they weren’t invincible and it would create hope in those throughout the provinces whose fear of The Sevens was too great to leave them.

Again, I stared at him in wonderment, this time for a different reason.

“You got him,” I said. “You definitely got him.”

Jameson nodded in elated agreement.

We left the Oregon coast seconds later and landed in the village quickly after. There, we found our families waiting for us on Jameson’s dock, their shoulders squared with tension, their eyes alert.

I had thought they were concerned about our safe return back, but that was only half of it.

My mother didn’t wait for our feet to touch the wood planks before launching into recounting what they knew.

“The Sevens are retaliating.”

“How do you know?” I asked, my own shoulders rising from nerves. “We just left them.”

“Because our entire world is in chaos.”

16  TRIAL

“Vires are starting to abduct people.”

Not wanting to create a panic, we moved inside Jameson’s shack before our voices could be overheard. Unfortunately, it didn’t stop the alarm from rising in any of us. No one took a seat as we filtered in, preferring to stand.

After the door closed behind us, I asked hesitantly, “Why?”

“Your guess is as good as ours,” said Estelle, biting back fear.

“Guessing isn’t going to get us anywhere,” muttered Jameson, cogitating with his eyes downcast. “Do we know who was taken?”

My mother listed off names, starting with Thomas Chatterley, and my emotions grew still. I recognized every one of them, and judging by the narrowing of his eyes, so did Jameson. They were the heads of the families who had extended invitations to us.

When Jameson’s eyelids closed in frustration and he released a pent up sigh, I understood the reason. He had done his best to convince them of the dangers The Sevens posed and he had been rejected. Now, the very ones who they believed to be their protectors were going to use them for their own purposes.

“What will they do with them?” I asked, not entirely certain I wanted to know. “The ones who The Sevens are taking….”