AMANI: Reveal (14 page)

Ian Cohen

“You better have a good explanation as to why you told my father we were engaged.” I threatened Amanda the second the door of my office closed behind her. It’d taken almost two hours to get rid of my father and his relentless inquisitions regarding the wedding. Why he’d gotten all zealous over this lie was beyond me. I’d never seen him so happy. Not since my sister’s death. “And where did you find this
ridiculous
ring?”
              “Bought it just this morning. Isn’t it beautiful?” A large grin was stamped on her silly face, but I could tell she was also scared. “And I’ve been telling my parents I’m going out with a guy from work for a year now and they’ve been asking questions as to whom it was and when they could meet him. Last night, I panicked and said it was my boss—well, you. And, well, they kind of invited you to dinner on Saturday night.” Seeing the shock on my face, she kept going. “I’m already forbidden to tell them where I work and what I do; I had to have some kind of answer for the most private part of my life!”
              Amanda was one of the few people outside the Cohens who worked at Headquarters, except for the safety department. Jim, a friend I had accidentally killed a month ago, had also been one.
              “But it’s a lie! I’m not your fiancé!”
              “I know, I know… But seriously, you don’t understand how pushy my parents are! I’m thirty years old, Ian. They expected me to have kids… like five years ago! They were so happy when I told them…”
              “You could have chosen anyone at HQ! Anyone! Let’s find my father and you’ll tell him it was someone else.” My fists clenched and unclenched while I tried to figure out what to do with her.
              “No! It has to be you. I already said you were called Ian Cohen and, being Jews themselves, they were thrilled to hear I was dating one.”
              I laughed, trying to calm myself. “I’m not even Jewish. And this is not a question. You
will
tell my father and your parents that you are dating someone else. Is that clear?”
              She seemed to be debating something in her head. Her eyes moved slowly from my left eye to my right, without blinking.
              “Actually, you might want to reconsider my offer, Ian,” she said, sounding more confident than I’d ever heard her. “I know very well that you are trying to toss Mrs. Cohen aside and take over as the leader of the Protectors. Since you came back from England, you have transformed and become much nicer to your co-workers, so I thought maybe you’d changed your mind… Maybe you’d realized Mrs. Cohen wasn’t that bad after all. But your little speech the other day confirmed my suspicions.”
              I could not believe my ears. Little annoying Amanda was cleverer than I’d given her credit for. “So what if I think Michelle is ready to retire?”
              “Well, I’ve heard you’ve been taking measures to convert to Judaism, and I could help you with that. I could convince my family rabbi that you’re ready and that you would like to convert before we get married.”
              “But we’re not getting married!”
              “Maybe not, but he’d have to believe we are. I swear, that would speed up the process. Then, when you’re finally a Cohen at heart, the Protectors will take you more seriously. I’ve already heard a few say that they think you’d make a good leader. They say you’re not afraid of making difficult decisions.”
              A jolt of hope made me shiver. “Do you remember who—”
              “It doesn’t matter. What does is that, by marrying me—our engagement would take your plan a step further.” I frowned, lost in a turmoil of thoughts. “You wouldn’t even have to pay me back for the ring!”
              “I sure wasn’t going to offer!”
              Amanda’s smile reached her eyes. “Does that mean you agree?”
              On the one hand, I couldn’t stand Amanda, but I was already forced to work with her, so why not pretend we were together in the process? Our work decorum would forbid us to get too close to each other anyway, so we wouldn’t have to behave any differently. Plus, after my father’s unexpected reaction to the news, I could convince him to help with the wedding plans, thus keeping him away from Operation R, or anything I planned on doing for the Rascals. I just had to make sure Amanda remained quiet about my plan on becoming a permanent leader at HQ.
              “As my fiancée, you wouldn’t dare tell anyone what you just told me, now would you?” I stared dangerously into her eyes. “Otherwise, I might become a widower faster than you can say ‘I do.’”
              She swallowed hard, her mouth wide open. “I wouldn’t dare. Actually, as my future husband, you’d be entitled to ask for my help with… anything, really.” Amanda attempted a step forward and touched my arm in a flirtatious way.
              I swiftly brushed her away. “This is a business agreement, nothing more,” I snapped. “I help you with your parents and you keep your mouth shut… and your hands to yourself.”
              Disappointed, she shrugged. “It’s a start.”
              I was about to reply when my phone rang. “Ian,” I grunted.
              “Hm, hi—this is Henry…”
              “Who?”
              “Er… Henry from the office.” I remained silent, confused. Did I know a Henry? “Er… Henry, the guy with the yellow glasses, who’s currently on Opera—”
              “Oh! Henry, of course!” Amanda rolled her eyes. “What is it, Henry?”
              “I—er—you should come here right now. I’ve got something. It’s urgent.”
              He didn’t have to ask me twice before I dashed through the first floor and was by his side a minute later, panting.
              “What is it? Did someone slip? Tell me Michelle wasn’t informed… Did you find Jeffrey?”
              “No, sir. I gave your number to all my contacts and they will report directly to you, sir, just like you asked. And Jeffrey Archer hasn’t been found yet. But do you remember yesterday, when you told me to monitor Amya’s parents’ phone?”
              “Yes, of course.”
              “Well, they just received a call from a small city called Sherbrooke, in Canada. I have reason to believe that it might be from Amya. It would make sense, as we’re unable to find her and her friends in the States.”
              “Brilliant! Were you able to get the exact location?”
              “Yes, I wrote it down for you,” he replied, subtly passing a small piece of paper to me. I folded it and put it in my pocket. “I assume we do not need to locate Mr. Archer anymore, but should I send a team to retrieve Xander Macfrey?”
              “No! I mean, I will have to think of a plan to make sure he doesn’t escape before we reach him. I will give you further instructions by the end of the day.” I set my hand on his shoulder, making him jump in surprise. “Good work, Henry.”
              I could tell by the grin on his face that he was proud and startled by my reaction. And to be completely honest, I was too. Like Amanda had said, I’d been very nice to most people at HQ lately, simply because I needed them to trust me. So far, it seemed to be working.
                “Amanda, I need you to leave me alone for the rest of the day,” I said the moment I set foot in my office. I still had to find a private office and concoct a false report for my father on my activities since Michelle had left Headquarters. “We can discuss our… engagement tomorrow. Don’t go telling people about us yet, although my father might be doing just that as we speak. We’ll find a good story, to make it sound believable for the rest of our colleagues, some other time.”
              Amanda stood on the other side of my desk, thoughtful.
              “Ian…”
              “I don’t have time right now. I told you we’d talk about it
tomorrow
.” I made a few steps forward, but she didn’t budge. “Now, I believe you know me well enough to understand that I’m not the most patient person in Amani. If you don’t leave my office right away, I might have to—”
              I was rendered silent as my gaze fell on Amanda’s right hands. Or more, because of what she was holding: the coop-hole lookalike I used to communicate with Meo. She raised it, slowly, and said, “It rang.” My heart stopped; then she finished me with, “And I answered.”

Amya Priam

I didn’t know how I had gotten there or how long ago I’d left the library when I heard Xander say they would be waiting on the bench, leaving me alone, sitting on the moist lawn, in the middle of what seemed like a small maze traced into the grass with ceramic.
              I should have felt angry at my dad for lying to me all these years. I should have felt sad that he hadn’t trusted me—or my mother, judging by the sobs I’d heard on the phone—enough to reveal to us what he was. I should have feared him, even though I knew he wasn’t necessarily a bad Rascal.
              But I only experienced this empty numbness, like I was floating above ground, outside my own body. Like the fog in my brain, clouding my thoughts, would drive me mad.
              After minutes or hours, snow began to fall, instantly melting as it touched the earth… and my nose. I threw my head backward and gazed at the frozen drops emerging from nowhere, out of the dark sky. The sun had set and a cold wind was making the beautifully designed snowflakes dance around me, illuminated by the cars’ headlights every time one drove by. Once in a while, I watched crystalized precipitation fall silently into my eye, making me blink. But I stood there as if unable to move, as if helpless.
              And that’s exactly what I felt. Helpless. All those things happening around me: Wyatt, Xander, Delilah, and now my father… and I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t just straighten my neck to avoid the snow falling into my eyes, because I was frozen and clueless as to what I had to do to make everything stop. I could only sit there and hope that the wind would blow everything away.
              “Amya?” It was Xander again. I heard his footsteps on the grass before I saw his face. Without a word, he sat down next to me. We stared at each other for a moment, and then he said, “Talk to me.”
              And that was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I burst out crying. In a second, he was holding me in his arms, holding me tight, my face in his neck.
              “I’m s—so scared…” I bawled and he held me even tighter. “I’m so,
so
scared,” I repeated. “Please feed on me. P—please make it go away.”
              Xander shook his head. “It won’t make much difference, Amya,” he whispered. “The pain will go away, but it’ll be back before you realize it’s gone. You have to face it now. Facing it now will make it more bearable later.”
              “But it f—feels so
heavy
!”
              “Then just let it go. Get it out of your system. That’s the only way.”
              I drew a long breath, held it in, and finally let everything go… I cried like I’d never cried before. I cried because of my father’s secret. I cried for my sister. I cried because I was scared. I cried because Xander was now a Rascal and it was all my fault. And finally, I cried for me, just because I hadn’t allowed myself to bawl my eyes out for years and it felt
so
good to do so.
              My eyes and nose were probably swollen by the time I stopped, but Xander’s eyes only exhibited love and compassion as he released me and dried my cheeks with his warm fingers.
              “How do you feel?”
              “Like a balloon.”
              He laughed. “Aside from that?”
              “Lighter, I guess.” I managed to return his grin. “Thanks.”
              He pushed a lock of wet hair away from my face. “Are you up for our next mission, then?”
              “What would that be?” I asked, feeling very hungry for the first time today.
Please tell me we’re going to have dinner
.
              “Oh, you know, the very mundane quest of finding a way to kill me!”

***

“So, tell me young man, what have you tried so far?”
              Because we had stopped at Tim Horton’s on our way to Hibiscus’s office, we were fifteen minutes late. But she was so excited that she didn’t even seem to notice. When we arrived, she immediately grabbed Xander’s arm and dragged him inside her office, forcing him to sit on a chair she’d set in the middle of the small room.
              “Nothing much, really. I don’t normally afflict myself with pain for fun.”
              Karl cleared his throat. “I personally fought against Rascals and I can assure you that bullets do not kill them. One in the head might slow them down at most. And they cannot be burned either.”
              “Then let’s cross those off my list.”
              “
You were planning on shooting me in the head
?” Xander yawped. He looked at me like he would do anything to get out of this situation.
              Hibiscus waved his worries away. “They were at the bottom of my list, obviously. We are first going to try and find a way to hurt you permanently. Killing you immediately would prevent us from—”
              “Hm, ma’am,” I interrupted at the sight of Xander’s increasing alarm. “We are here to find a way to clear Xander’s name so that some people won’t try to murder him. Killing him
any time
in the process would counteract with our plan.”
              “I see… In that case”—she stared at Xander—“I’ll do my best to keep you alive, young man.” She crossed another word off her list. “Ha! Blowing you up isn’t an option either, I suppose…”
              Samera, Xander, and I kept glancing anxiously at each other.
              “Didn’t you, um, try anything on your friend in high school?” I asked. I still couldn’t face the fact that my father was a Rascal, but I wondered nonetheless if she had experimented on him before. “Weren’t you both curious at the time?”
              Hibiscus considered her answer. In the end, she shook her head and said, “We were young. We looked at things a different way. Let’s just say we made the best of what we had.”
              “What do you mean?”
              She smiled and quickly unbraided her hair. “He needed to feed on dreams, see. I remember very well. But, as you may already know, Rascals also have the ability to transfer some of what they feed on onto somebody else.” She was lost in her memories for a moment and then looked directly into my eyes. “Your father and I, well, let’s just say our nemeses didn’t sleep very well. Mind you, nightmares are bloody tiring.” She paused. “Yes, Kellen rang me an hour before you turned up,” she added, probably reading my startled expression. “He said his daughter, Amya, had just learned the truth about him. He also asked me to tell you he was sorry—”
              “Don’t bother,” I retorted quickly. “I don’t want to know any more. Shouldn’t have asked in the first place.”
              Sadness brushed her eyes for just a second before she went back to braiding her hair. “A great person he is your dad… Great chap.” She paused before she turned her gaze back to Xander. “But we’re here for a precise purpose and we’re not leaving this office before I’ve discovered your weakness, young man,” she told him.
              Hibiscus stretched her arm under her desk and grabbed a leather suitcase on wheels. She bent and opened the first zipper. Then, she pulled out a leather bag that contained a set of strangely-shaped knives.
              “W—what is this for?” Samera asked.
              “This is my collection of knives found during archeological searches.” Hibiscus expressed herself much like she would in front of a class. “This is an iron knife from the pre-dynastic Egypt; a bronze dagger from remnants in Rome, and finally, one of my most prized possessions, a flint knife from the late pre-dynastic period!”
              My best friend continued her interrogation. “What will you do with these?” 
              The professor started rolling Xander’s sleeve up. “I thought about it all day—couldn’t concentrate on my class—so I gave my students a short, unexpected test and told them they had the rest of the class off. No one complained; that’s a shock. In any case, I thought that maybe, just maybe, Rascals could be affected by a kind of material. A metal perhaps…”
              “Just like werewolves are sensitive to silver?” I asked.
              Samera rolled her eyes. “You read too much, Amya.”
              “Werewolves don’t exist, dear, but you do get what I mean, indeed.”
              “Who knows,” I muttered under my breath so that only Xander and Samera could hear, “my mother could be one for all I know.”
              “All right! Ha!This is exciting! We shall start with iron,” Hibiscus announced.
              Now that it was clear she was not allowed to kill Xander, the latter seemed to relax. Even as Hibiscus cut deep into his forearm, he did not wince, but kept his gaze steady on the wound, which healed instantly.
              “Definitely not iron.”
              For an hour, she tried her ancient knives on Xander, plus other instruments made of different materials such as aluminum, steel, wood, clay, concrete, and even silver. None of the incisions lasted more than five seconds. Defeated, the professor sent us home after all.
              “I will think about it some more. There certainly
is
a mineral or material that can hurt you,” she pondered. “I must attend a seminar tomorrow… Come back on Wednesday, would you? I should have found the answer before then.”
              The walk back to Madame M.’s was chilly and quiet. I made a mental note to go shopping for a winter coat tomorrow because mine was definitely not up for Canadian weather.
              I knew Xander needed to feed to regain his strength after an hour of incessant injuries, so I held and squeezed his hand, and waited for him to understand. At first, he shook his head and whispered that he needed too much.
              “Good,” I replied. “There are a few emotions I wouldn’t mind losing for a while.”
              The fact that he would be helping someone other than himself convinced him at last. For a few wonderful minutes, I felt careless and untroubled. I wanted to dance under the snow and whirl and sing! But then, before we stepped inside Madame M.’s house, Karl said he wanted to call Michelle to make sure she was all right and to ask if the Protectors had found any trace of my sister yet.
              And just like that, all those emotions eating me up came rushing back. At eight-thirty, I was lying on the couch, swaddled in Madame M.’s warmest blanket, reading
The Golden Compass
by Philip Pullman, and ready to fall asleep. Both Doc and, I believed, Sleepy were perched on top of my legs purring like their lives depended on it; Samera and Xander were going through clothes Madame M. had bought for us today; and she and Mr. Jensen spent the entire evening training in our host’s basement. Apparently she had all the necessary equipment for a thorough workout and fighting session. At some point, Samera bid us goodnight and went to her room while Xander joined the training downstairs. And I was left to myself, at last able to close my eyes and fall into a deep sleep…
              Until I woke up to the sound of slow footsteps and whispers behind me and felt a bag over my head.