The Marked (17 page)

I SLAMMED
the phone shut and shoved it back into my pocket. Nausea roiled in my stomach. I leaned over the sink and closed my eyes, waiting for the feeling to recede. When it didn’t, I grabbed a washcloth and wet it, drawing the cool rag over my cheeks and the back of my neck. I studied my face in the mirror; my eyes were sunken and dark, the hair around my face a frizzy mass.

I shouldn’t, I thought, have taken his call. He was lying to me. He had to be lying.

As I pulled my hair into a ponytail, I heard voices at the front door. My heart sank. I took a deep breath and threw open the bathroom door, certain I would see a group of Watchers standing outside.

Grandma was blocking the doorway, but she was so short I had no trouble making out the person in front of her. A smile of relief split my face. “Cam! What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you, of course,” he said. He was wearing his forest green Delcroix T-shirt, the one with the gold dragon on the front. The light from the setting sun left a rosy glow on his features.

I recalled with horror that I had picked my old Danville Middle sweatshirt and matching sweatpants from the dirty laundry basket that morning, but then I caught Cam’s eyes and realized it didn’t matter. Energy rippled off him; his body was practically vibrating. He shifted from one foot to the other, and I knew he didn’t care what I was wearing.

We shared a quick hug under Grandma’s watchful gaze. “Did you just get to town?” I asked.

“A couple of hours ago. I borrowed a car as soon as we got to Delcroix so I could see you. I didn’t want to wait until tomorrow.”

Grandma pointed at the television. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m right in the middle of this program. Maybe you two should go in the kitchen.”

“Actually, I’ve got a whole bag full of laundry,” Cam said. “I had hoped that Dancia could come with me to the Laundromat while I get it started? If I don’t get it done tonight, I’ll be wearing dirty clothes all week.”

Grandma scowled. “You could do a load here. While you talk.”

Cam took firm hold of my hand. “That’s very kind of you, but I’ve got at least three, and it would save a lot of time if I could do them all at once.”

She grabbed a tissue from the table and dabbed at the corner of her eye. “You can’t do laundry at school?”

“The washers were full. I guess I wasn’t the only one who brought a load of dirty clothes back from vacation.”

The persuasion oozed from him. It was only his Level Two Talent, but Grandma didn’t have the strength to resist. “You’ll bring her back in before nine?” she said.

“Of course.”

“Well, I suppose I can’t fault a boy for wanting to do his laundry.”

I flung my arms around her. “Thank you, Grandma!”

We got into the car at the curb. It was a tan Buick. I raised a curious eyebrow. “Does Mr. Judan know you’ve got this car?”

“He said it was okay. He understands.”

We drove away from the curb in silence. At the first stop sign, Cam put the car in park and leaned over to kiss me. I couldn’t tell what emotion pulsed through him, but it was almost frightening in its intensity.

Another car pulled up behind us.

“Maybe we should go somewhere more private?” I said.

Cam gunned the motor, and we headed toward town.

“So.” I tapped my foot on the floor of the car. “How was your trip?”

“I suppose the news made it to Danville?”

I snorted. “Did you see what Grandma was watching? There’s been nothing else on TV all week.”

Cam rested his hand on the top of the steering wheel as he slid through a stop sign. “I don’t mind the coverage. It’s good. We wanted to send a warning anyway.”

My throat started to tighten. I cleared it and said, “A warning? What do you mean?”

“For the rest of them. Those three weren’t working alone, you know.”

“Oh.” I turned away and gazed at the houses beside us. I thought about the people inside who had no idea what had really happened in D.C. and wouldn’t have believed it if you told them. Sometimes I wished I were one of those people.

A few minutes later, Cam pulled into a dead-end street and parked well away from any houses. He angled his body toward mine and took my hands in his. “I’m sorry I couldn’t write,” he said. “We were moving around too much. I thought about you all the time.”

“Who were you with, exactly? Were there other people from Delcroix?”

“Mr. Judan was there,” he said.

I waited, expecting to hear Anna’s or Trevor’s name, but that was all he said. I didn’t want to ask him directly. I didn’t want to know that Anna had been with him while I was home with Grandma.

“So…” I groped for the right words. “What did you…”

“I helped them find the warehouse and track the men. Then they brought me in to find talent marks once they narrowed down the area.”

“What were they actually planning to do?”

He tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Something terrible.”

“Like what?” The air in the car was heavy and still.

“Kill someone. Probably the president.”

“Did you see the plans?” I had to work hard to keep asking questions, because he was touching my neck now, and the heat in his eyes was melting me down to my core. “The ones for attacking the White House?”

“No. I stayed by the front when they went in.”

“So you didn’t see them…you didn’t see the Watchers…?”

“If you’re asking if I saw them shoot, the answer is no,” Cam said.

“I just wondered if maybe they could have arrested them. Sent them to jail instead of killing them.”

Cam kissed my cheek. He spoke between soft brushes of his lips against my skin. “One of those men was a shape-shifter. There’s no jail in the world that could hold him. Another one was a computer genius. He needed to get access to a terminal only one time, and then he could open the prison gates. The last one could manipulate sound waves. With a little training, he could blow out the eardrums of every person in a two-mile radius. Jail wasn’t an option.”

Manipulate sound waves
. A connection lit up in my head even as Cam’s kisses sent ripples through my body. “He was one of the ones who broke into Delcroix at Initiation.”

“It was the same guy. I saw his marks.”

“Did he make that noise before they killed him?”

“Please,” Cam said, pausing. “Don’t ask those things.”

I tried to focus on how lovely his hands were, how strong and warm. But I kept hearing Jack’s voice, and what he’d said about the men being set up. “You’re sure they were planning something, though? I mean, there was no chance they were going to do something else with those guns?”

Cam pulled back. “Like what? Send them to underprivileged children? Open a shooting range?”

I squirmed, amazed at myself for pushing things this far. “I don’t know. Maybe they had them for self-defense. It’s not illegal to have guns, is it?”

“The guns were stolen semiautomatic weapons that they rigged to be automatic. It
was
illegal to have those guns. We have absolutely no doubt how they would have been used, and it wasn’t for show-and-tell. We don’t let bad things happen just so we can find out exactly what they were planning. We stop bad things
before
they happen.”

“It isn’t that I don’t believe you,” I said. “I just need to understand.”

“Fine—but can you understand later?” he asked. “I’ve been thinking and talking about this for the past two weeks. I hoped maybe I could forget about it for a while.”

I took advantage of the space between us to wriggle out of my sweatshirt. “It’s just that I haven’t seen you, and you didn’t write or anything. I’ve been waiting all week to hear the real story.”

Cam’s jaw tightened. “You want to know about it? Okay. I’ll tell you. It made me sick. That’s what you wanted to hear, isn’t it?” His voice turned rough, and he cleared his throat.

I winced and touched his leg. “Cam, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It was me, the Watchers, and Mr. Judan,” he continued, ignoring my interruption. “They wanted me to tell them whenever I saw a mark. We traced the men through the city and ended up at that warehouse.”

He flexed his hands compulsively on the steering wheel. “We didn’t think they’d be expecting us, but you never know for sure. They could have had a talent for foresight, or a gift for hearing, like Claire. Mr. Judan told me to stay at the entrance with a phone. I was supposed to call for backup if something went wrong. There was one shot, and then the explosions. Then two more shots, and it was over.”

I shuddered, imagining the moment, incredibly relieved he hadn’t been inside the warehouse.

“I thought it would feel good to be a part of something like that,” he said. “We protected innocent people. Hundreds of them, maybe more, I don’t know. The president, even. But I keep hearing that sound, and thinking about those men.…It feels wrong, somehow, knowing I was a part of that. I’m sure they could have found them some other way, but
I
led them there.” He punched his chest. “
Me
.”

“Don’t beat yourself up,” I said. “You did what you thought was right.”

He shook his hair from his eyes. “I know. I just thought it would feel different. Better. Easier.”

“I don’t think it’s supposed to be easy. Not something like that.” I shifted in the seat, tucking my legs underneath me so I could face him more fully. The heat of the car and my fear of the Irin fell away under his steady gaze.

“You know what I thought about afterward? When I was confused and didn’t know what to feel?”

“What?” I asked.

“You. You’re like the other part of me, Dancia. Nothing makes sense when you aren’t around.”

He squeezed my hand, and I felt a little crackle in my heart, like a leaf or a twig bursting into flame. It wasn’t persuasion, or his talent, or anything like that. It was love. Love for and pride in this incredible person who, for some crazy reason, wanted to be with me.

I felt a deep ache in my chest when I realized Cam was struggling—maybe even more than me. He was actually out there fighting for what he believed in, while I sat at home thinking I was brave for asking questions and typing
Ethan Hannigan
into a search engine.

I was staying on the sidelines while Cam was out there living with the reality of Watchers and guns and people no jail could hold.

“I probably sound like an idiot,” he said. “I shouldn’t have come tonight. I should have waited until I was in a better place.”

“That’s not what we’re about,” I said. “If we waited until
I
made sense, we’d never talk at all.”

He smiled and leaned an elbow against the steering wheel. “Thanks.”

I should have told Cam then about my conversation with Jack. I didn’t want to lie, or hide things from him. But I knew I couldn’t. Cam was absolutely certain the Irin had been plotting against the president. Which meant one of two things: either Jack was lying, or someone was lying to Cam.

CAM ACTUALLY
had brought a few loads of clothes with him, so eventually we had to drive to the Laundromat. While the clothes were drying, we shared a milk shake nearby at Bev’s. He slowly started to relax, and we walked around holding hands, laughing as we remembered the first time we’d met at Bev’s, when he was trying to persuade me to go to Delcroix and I was trying to hide my talent.

He dropped me off in front of our house. Grandma met me at the door. “Took that long to do a few loads of laundry?”

I didn’t even flinch. “Yep.”

She chuckled and went back to the TV. I went into the kitchen and grabbed a soda. My head was spinning with thoughts of Cam and the conversation I’d had with Jack.

If Cam didn’t know they were setting up the Irin, who did? He’d been outside the building while Mr. Judan and the other Watchers were taking their shots. It could have been any of them.

Without even realizing it, I’d accepted that Jack was telling the truth. Now I just had to figure out what to do next.

Esther had told me and Hennie what she was planning, so it shouldn’t have been a big surprise, but I was still shocked to see her on Monday morning, holding court to a small circle of boys by the basement lockers. Her hair fell in long, loose waves down her back. Her eyes were surrounded by the thickest, darkest lashes you’d ever seen, and her lips were a perfect shade of red. She wore a pair of tight jeans and a low scoop-neck top. It was Esther, but Esther like I’d never seen her before.

I thought I’d gotten used to Esther’s talent. I’d watched her change personas, subtly altering her face and body. But this was different. This transformation went beyond the shape of her eyebrows or the tone of her voice. This change went through to her core.

“Esther?” I asked in disbelief.

She turned to look at me, placing one hand on her hip. “What’s up?”

“I guess I should ask you that question.” I gestured from her head to her feet. “I see you went through with it.”

She laughed a low, throaty laugh. “I don’t know what you mean.” She regarded the boys around her. “Do you notice anything different about me?”

They nodded vigorously and she laughed again.

I shifted my backpack on my shoulder. I was wearing my standard baggy jeans and hoodie, and felt drastically under-dressed by comparison. “I didn’t see you at breakfast,” I said. “Hennie and I got here early so we could all eat together. You were supposed to meet us.”

I didn’t mention that Hennie had also run out of the cafeteria the minute she saw Yashir coming. They had texted over break, but she’d hung out with Rashid, the boy her parents picked out for her, three times, and she was feeling painfully guilty about it.

Esther swept a silky strand of hair behind her. “Guess I slept late. I need my beauty rest, you know.”

“Apparently.” I hadn’t planned on telling Esther the whole story, of course, but I had wanted to tell her how incredible it had felt to be with Cam this weekend, and how I’d fallen in love with him all over again. The first time, it was because of his looks and the force of his personality. On Sunday, I realized I was in love with his soul.

But right now, Esther clearly wasn’t interested in Cam’s soul.

A bell rang, and Esther linked arms with one of the guys. “I guess we better go to class.” She started walking away, and then, almost as an afterthought, trotted a few steps back toward me. She whispered in my ear, “I’ll be looking for Trevor. Let me know if you see him, will you?”

I watched her go with dismay. For the first time, it occurred to me that it could be Trevor, not Esther, who needed the protection.

The visitors started arriving early Tuesday morning, and more trickled in throughout the day. They came in ones and twos, wearing suits and carrying briefcases, talking animatedly to Mr. Judan, or each other, as they entered. There were lots of handshakes and greetings, as their belongings were whisked away by students and taken to the Bly, where they were staying. A collection of stony-faced men and women who I assumed were Watchers lurked silently in the background, wires crawling out of their ears. They had their hands on their hips or casually crossed over their chests. It wasn’t hard to imagine weapons concealed under their jackets.

After breakfast, Principal Solom’s voice came over the loudspeakers to announce that the strangers were there for a meeting of an international nonprofit organization. Alisha, one of the sophomores in the Program, told me they were actually the members of the Governing Council, probably there to discuss what had happened in D.C.

Barrett grabbed me in the hall on the way to my focus class. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”

The Bly stood a few hundred yards behind the Main Hall. It looked like something you’d see in a postcard, with its gleaming white paint and wraparound porch, and hundreds of red and pink roses growing up the sides. A tall figure with a shock of white hair met us on the porch.

Barrett bobbed his head and gestured toward me. “Dad, this is Dancia Lewis.”

The white-haired man held out his hand for me to shake. “Dancia, I’m Ronald Alterir.” Hawklike eyes studied me from a long face. The resemblance to Barrett was striking—though, unlike his son, the older man had the bearing of someone used to giving orders and having them obeyed. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“All good, of course,” Barrett said, flashing a smile.

“Thank you, Mr. Alterir,” I said, stepping back nervously after he released my hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Please, call me Ronald.” A small circle of cushioned chairs sat on one end of the porch. “I have a few minutes before our first meeting. Why don’t we sit down?”

“We don’t want to bother you,” Barrett said. “I know you’re busy.”

Mr. Alterir—I couldn’t think of him as Ronald, no matter what he said—sighed. “I don’t mind. It’s a welcome distraction. These meetings are always tense after we’ve had an incident with the Irin.”

We each took a chair. Barrett and I sat side by side, while Mr. Alterir positioned himself opposite us. I arranged my knees carefully in front of me, my toes twitching with the effort to keep still. I tried to remember everything Barrett had told me about his dad. I’d heard from Cam and a few others that Mr. Alterir and Mr. Judan didn’t get along, but I didn’t know why. I figured it had to do with the Watchers.

“Another emergency resolution?” Barrett asked.

“Probably.” Mr. Alterir crossed one leg over the other. “Normally, I wouldn’t speak so frankly to a student in your position, Dancia. But there’s nothing normal about you, is there?”

I wasn’t sure whether to take that as a compliment, so I just shrugged.

“She’s special,” Barrett said, stretching his legs out in front of him. His old sandals seemed particularly decrepit in comparison with his father’s expensive loafers. “That’s for sure.”

“I’m sorry you had to experience that incident with the group from Seattle,” said Mr. Alterir. “It’s always troubling when our students are threatened.”

“I guess you can’t control the Irin,” I said.

“No, but we can try to minimize the threat they pose. That’s what we hope to accomplish on the Council. At least, that’s what
I
hope to accomplish.”

I didn’t know how to take that, either, but I couldn’t help wondering if it had something to do with Mr. Judan. “So, you’re here to talk about what happened in D.C.?”

“Yes, we usually meet if there’s been an incident with the Irin that we find particularly troublesome.”

“Are you worried about the president?” I said. “Do you think they were trying to kill him?”

Mr. Alterir spread out his hands. “The documents they discovered in the warehouse were fairly conclusive.”

I thought of what Jack had said and picked my words carefully. Even though I had a feeling Mr. Alterir would understand, I didn’t want to start out my first visit with him by saying I had been talking to one of the Irin. “But it seems a little odd, doesn’t it? I mean, going after the president doesn’t seem like a particularly effective strategy if what they really want is to attack the Governing Council.”

“The same thing occurred to me,” Mr. Alterir said, eyeing me thoughtfully. I squirmed a little under his gaze, sitting up straighter in my chair and arranging my hood behind me. “An attack on the president is out of character for our friend Gregori. He likes to consider himself sophisticated and cunning, but he does not like to attract the attention of the conventional police. A high-profile assassination is not his way.”

I leaned forward. “How do you know all those things about him?”

“We are a small community,” Mr. Alterir said. “Particularly those with strong talents. You will come to appreciate this as you move higher in our ranks. Gregori and I went to the same school. I knew him well.”

My eyes widened. Gregori had always seemed like such a mysterious, shadowy figure that I had almost convinced myself he wasn’t real. “And now you fight with the Governing Council about him?” I asked.

Mr. Alterir stood up and walked to the side of the porch. He touched a petal of one of the roses. “Gregori was always unstable, even when I knew him. But I never thought he had the potential to become so dangerous.”

“You don’t think he’s as bad as they say?” I asked.

He snapped off the bloom, holding it up to his nose to smell the heady fragrance. “I have no doubt that Gregori has always had a certain ruthlessness about him. I believe if he wants something, he will do anything in his power to get it.”

I noticed he didn’t exactly answer the question. I tried a different tack. “If you agree with them about Gregori, what do you end up fighting about?”

He handed me the rose and smiled, as if he saw I was trying to pin him down and he found it amusing. “Every time the Irin strike us, we have a meeting to discuss our response. Lately, that response has been to increase the number of Watchers and their power to act without Council oversight.”

I gingerly held the prickly stem between my fingers. Mr. Anderson would be pissed if he knew we’d picked one of his flowers. “You don’t agree with that?”

He leaned against the porch and shrugged. “I can’t help but notice that someone gains more power every time we do this. And that makes me wonder: is it a coincidence or something more? A good question to ask, don’t you think?”