Velocity (17 page)

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Authors: Abigail Boyd

BOOK: Velocity
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“They pushed Theo into the water, Dad. This is getting really serious. If we hadn’t been there, she could have died,” I reported to Hugh that evening.

“You need to not go out anymore at night by yourselves,” Hugh said. “The curfew is probably to allow Thornhill more freedom at night, but it will work for your protection, as well. Only if you heed it, though. Tell all your friends the same thing. I’ve already spoken with Theo’s mother, and she’s thinking about going out of town, but Theo is adamant that she stay here.”

I didn’t want Theo to leave, but I’d never forgive myself if she wound up dead.

###

The Thornhill kids were preening even more than usual at school. It was impossible to focus on my studies, but I did the best that I could. I wanted to tell Lainey that I knew what she did, but I knew it was hopeless. At lunch, the entire group was now allowed to eat in a separate conference room.

“Are you really going to leave town?” I asked Theo timidly as we made our way through the line.

“Probably not. My mom told my father that she wanted to move and he just about flipped. My mom can’t say no to him,” she said.

“I don’t want you to go anywhere,” I admitted. “But I also want everybody to be safe. Especially you. You’re my best friend.”

“Well, shucks, pardner, I think you’re neat too,” Theo said, grinning as she put lime green Jell-O on her tray. “At least I know now not to avoid thin ice.”

Lainey and her group passed by Henry’s table as Theo and I were getting out of the lunch line. She looked beautiful in a tight pink dress and leather boots, and I held my breath as she stopped and leaned over him.

“You coming?” Lainey asked as her group waited nearby. All the members of her posse sported the copper pins.

Henry shook his head, his expression very cold, almost bored. “Why would I do a stupid thing like that?”

She narrowed her eyes at him, tossing her orange in the air and catching it. “Still hanging around with the trash, is that it? Still slumming it?” She baited, smirking wickedly.

“The only time I ever felt like garbage was when I was with you,” Henry said. Then he was on his feet, up in her face. “I know what you did, Lainey. And so help me, if you mess with that girl again, I will make sure you regret it.”

Lainey blinked, obviously thrown off guard. She stalked away with her entourage behind her.

Henry saw us and frowned. He moved his things off of the seat next to him. “Are you two going to sit down?”

“Going all Sir Lancelot for my benefit?” Theo asked, blushing all over the place. It made me feel good that the two were mending fences. Alex and Madison were there, too, but Theo ignored their duo for now, as she had been doing lately.

“Why do I get the feeling I’m missing something?” Alex asked, seeming alarmed. He looked at all of us for clues.

“You’ve missed a lot,” I admitted.

Madison was staring longingly after Lainey and her friends as they left the commons, her fork hovering over the plate as she attempted to skewer her food.

“What are you staring at?” Alex asked.

“I just miss being a part of their group,” Madison admitted. “Not that I don’t like you guys,” she avoided looking at Theo, “But they’re just having so much fun. They look so beautiful. And I could totally rock on of those pins. And I should be the one next to Lainey, not Harlow.”

“Madison, what they’re doing isn’t a joke,” Henry said. “You thought their activities before were questionable—they’re up to much worse now.”

We weren’t fooling anyone, and Madison knew about some things already, although I’d never seen her at one of my father’s meetings. We filled them in on everything, finishing with what had just happened to Theo at the lake.

“Are you okay?” Alex asked her immediately.

“I’m fine,” Theo mumbled, staring down at the unappetizing food on her tray. She poked the Jell-O with one finger.

“I’m going to kick her ass,” Alex said, starting to stand up. Theo’s hand snapped out and she grabbed his arm,. Although I knew that she couldn’t be stronger than him, he stopped.

“We have no evidence, no witnesses,” she said evenly. “They have all the power. We just have to find something to throw at them that will stick.”

Lunch had breezed by as we were updating them. The bell rang and Theo, Madison, and Henry all dumped their trays.

“Ever since I gave up carbs, I’ve lost so much weight,” Madison bragged, smoothing her hands over her stomach dramatically. “I’m going to have to buy a whole new wardrobe. We should go together sometime, Alex.”

“I don’t shop,” he said distractedly.

“I’d make it worth your while.” She breezed away.

“Bitch,” Theo muttered under her breath as she followed. I came around the table, but Alex stopped me in my tracks.

He jammed his thumb to his chest. “I want in. To your meetings. To everything. I’m a part of this too, ever since we did that stupid séance at the orphanage. And no matter what, that girl is my business.”

I nodded. “She should be.”

###

I got on my father’s laptop when I got home and stayed on it for hours. I’d looked on the internet before for information on Dexter, but they were half-hearted attempts. I’d never taken researching on it seriously. I didn’t have other options, though. I’d already perused the library’s dry Hell history, which contained obituaries and land deeds and minutes to the town meetings, but nothing of use to me.

“Serious concentration going on in here, huh?” Hugh said, looking over my shoulder at the screen.

I sat back and stretched my legs, which were starting to cramp. “I’m looking into the original Thornhill Society more. So far, I’ve found out that Umbra Regnum is Latin for Shadow Kingdom. Not exactly a happy slogan. If that doesn’t make their intentions obvious…”

“What else have you found out?”

“Not too much, yet. But I’m not finished.”

Kissing my hair, he rested his chin for a second on my head. “Don’t stay up too late. You have school in the morning.”

He made me chop suey for a late dinner and I ate it while still researching, deep in detective mode. I kept coming across bits and pieces of information, but they led to dead ends. I researched each member of the 1930s society, taking the names from the photo I’d found of them. It was currently propped up against the laptop screen, and showed five people in grainy black and white―John Dexter himself, Cynthia Warwick, Hazel Ford, Paul Rhodes, and Dr. George Slaughter. All distant relatives of my current foes.

The main man himself, Dexter, was considered by many to be philanthropic and generous, although reclusive and a bit strange. He’d left a good legacy in the tiny paragraphs describing him.

But his darker history came out as I dug into wikis and messageboards about ghost stories. The stories that Warwick had told me originally―involving ritual sacrifice, child abuse, mysterious deaths―were all described by varying accounts. While I was curious to learn about him, the more I learned, the sicker I felt. This was what I was related to?

Cynthia, or Sissy, as she was commonly known, was some young socialite. There were a few black-and-white photos of her during the twenties as a flapper. Then she just disappeared and I couldn’t find any more information about her.

Hazel Ford was an old, rich widow who had lived to almost ninety and left all of her money to a series of bachelor nephews and bountiful nieces. I traced her family tree, clicking through the branches until I’d hit all dead bodies.

On to the good doctor, George Slaughter had spent a good stretch treating TB patients at a Michigan state infirmary up north. He’d lived and died without getting married or having children.

The final person that I looked up was Paul Rhodes. He seemed fairly nondescript―I couldn’t even find another picture of him. Considering how much press and attention Phillip was fond of getting, it surprised me. The hole I found when looking for Paul stirred the fires of my curiosity.

As I was searching, I committed every detail about each person to my memory. I wanted as clear of a picture as I could get in my head to improve my chances of getting back to their time. I didn’t know how hard it would be to go back that far―after all, I’d only attempted thirty years before. Eighty was a whole different ball game with very old equipment.

Finally, just as my fried eyes were about to give up, I googled down a poorly made blog that held promise. The background was black with garish red text. Glowing red flame animations danced all over the page, as an invitation for epilepsy. Those were not the promising parts.

It appeared to show information about Dexter and the rituals. I started scribbling down notes as soon as I began to read.

Dexter planned the ritual of Umbra Regnum, or shadow realm, for years. He executed his sacrifices spread out over the course of nine years, so as not to draw suspicion to the deaths. Even though he practiced on the orphans in his care, there were other deaths, though no one talked about it.

Each seal under his town, the town of Hell, MI, which is still there today, required a certain amount of blood to activate. Just like the other Dark bringing rituals, there is a final seal under a certain point. Using a soul amulet, Dexter planned to open the seal and harness the Dark energy into himself. It did not work out as planned, however, although the details of that night have never been spoken of. I spoke to a relative of the widow Hazel Ford, one of the survivors of the failed ritual of Umbra Regnum. The man gave me her personal diaries that outlined the evening.

The ritual began with a great feast around the dining table. Then, they retreated to the final seal, where three girls of precious blood were supposed to be sacrificed. What happened then is unknown, but Dexter failed at the ritual and disappeared. His Dark legacy follows him to this day.

A great feast around the dining room table? I could definitely imagine that, since it was the same one that Henry, Alex, Theo, and I had had the séance on back in the day. I’d been drawn to that room on several occasions and it made sense. Rubbing one of my dry eyes, I scrolled down the page, and clicked on a link called True Angels.

Angels are all around us, it’s true. But they are invisible, and not the good, noble creatures we’ve always learned of. They inhabit a morally ambiguous area. Our laws are meaningless to them, and our lives trivial and as short as the blink of an eye. But occasionally, a angel will cross over and find favor with a human. They will mate with them to carry on the Luminos blood. Those who have Luminos blood will display great potential―strong spirit Sight, lack of aversion to blood, the ability to command soul amulets for Dark travel, and even the possible potential to tap into the holy light. But their powers are unstable, and most will not be able to harness them. Some will be destroyed by their own efforts to use the powers.

Curious as to who cultivated such a sophisticated blog, I searched around for an about me page. The picture was an animated devil, and the guy went by the name
DeathSeagull.
I didn’t find email. And to be honest, I was not sure that I wanted to exchange emails with someone who would go by that moniker.

I sat back, shutting the laptop. So that was it. I had all of those things, save for the last. I really was part angel. But how did I stop myself from getting hurt or losing my mind as I used the powers?

I knew my next step. Dexter and his clan had been attempting a much bigger ritual, unlike Phillip’s high school experiment. Just like we were up against now. I wanted to see what stopped them.

 

CHAPTER 16

I’D NEVER SEEN
so many people crammed into Callie’s apartment before. Not only were the core members of the opposition group there, but Madison, Alex, and Henry had arrived with, curious about the grounding stone. Most everyone was gathered in the living room, but my friends were sitting beside me in the bedroom.

Several people had shown irritation at Henry being included. I heard whispers of protest about him being Rhodes’ son.

“He’s a part of this whether we agree or not,” I’d heard my father say to Joe Reed earlier.

I was propped up on Callie’s cozy bed. Her entire room was decorated in tones of soothing blue, down to the lamps and the sky blue Kleenex box on the side table.

Theo was coaching the others on what to expect when I went under. “She totally looks like a corpse, but don’t worry. She pops right back up again.”

“Is it safe?” Henry asked, frowning.

“That’s what all the monitors are for,” I said, gesturing.

I still hadn’t had any luck reaching any of Thornhill’s recent history, so my path was sure. I had to go back and see John Dexter and the original Thornhill Society’s Umbra Regnum ritual.

“This is going to probably be by far the longest of these you’ve undertaken,” Hugh said. “If anything bad happens, come back. If we notice a severe drop on any of the monitors, we’ll remove the stone and pull you out.”

“I’ll be checking your stats every fifteen minutes,” Callie piped up. “Alarms will sound if your respiration or heart rate drops too low or too fast.” She adjusted the wires around me so I had more room to move. “I know it’s not the most comfortable setup, but this way we will be sure to catch anything before it goes wrong.”

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