Black Knight (30 page)

“There’s been enough killing. We want a truce. If your people leave us alone, we promise to leave you alone.”

“You are asking for a treaty?”

“Yes,” I say.

Jelanda glances in the direction of our graves. “Your group is weak, vulnerable. Why should we treat with you?” Sam stops and frowns. “I’m sorry, Jessie. I’m not sure of that last phrase.”

“It doesn’t matter, I know what she meant.” I lean toward her. “We are stronger than we appear, and you are our prisoner. You have no choice but to deal with us.”

Jelanda smiles and her eyes are cold.

Sam translates. “She says, ‘None of you will survive.’”

I sit back on my heels, barely resisting the urge to break her neck. I tell myself I’m being civilized. At the same time my heart warns me I’m making a mistake. That I should kill her now before she destroys us all.

CHAPTER EIGHT

IN THE MORNING, IN WITCH
world, Jimmy shakes me awake minutes after dawn. My body—this body—has slept but my mind feels like it has gotten no rest. Because it hasn’t. I was awake most of the night in the Field.

Watching, waiting, standing guard.

I groan and roll over and cover my head with my pillow. “Let me sleep,” I beg.

“Lara’s awake,” Jimmy says.

“I don’t hear her,” I mumble.

“Her eyes are open. She’s looking around, looking for her mommy.”

“Give her to my mom.”

Jimmy hugs me from behind and kisses my ear. “I love you.”

“If you loved me you’d let me sleep.”

“If you get up we can have sex. And we can do anything you want to do.”

My eyes pop open. “Anything?”

He kisses my neck and gently bites my skin. I must have been a vampire in a past life. Touch my neck, kiss it, lick it—it doesn’t matter, I turn into a slut.

“Anything,” he swears.

I throw off the covers and stand up. “Let me pee and take a shower. Remember, you said anything. Get naked.”

“Should I get naked before or after I give Lara to your mom?”

“Right now I don’t care.”

An hour later we’re holding each other in bed and I feel myself drifting down lazy currents, floating, falling back asleep. I know I have no right to be happy. The Field is only another sunrise away and so is death. It’s impossible to imagine a more ridiculous time to feel joy and yet it’s here—in Jimmy’s arms. It’s always here because he’s always here. I know he loves me and what’s sad is I always knew I loved him even more.

But now I know nothing.

Except that it’s good to hold him.

My eyes are shut. I hear him speak.

“You have to tell me what’s happening,” he says.

“You don’t want to know.”

“Has anyone died?”

I sigh. “That’s what people do in the Field. They die.”

Jimmy goes in the kitchen and makes coffee. When he returns, I can hear myself snoring but he drags me into a sitting position and forces me to drink two cups—scalding hot but sweet. At some point my brain turns back on and I start talking.

I tell him everything that’s happened.

When I finish, he sits in silent shock.

“Say something,” I tell him finally.

“You have to stay alive, Jessie.”

“I’m trying.”

“Do whatever it takes.”

“I can’t betray the ones who trust me.” I pause. “I can’t betray you.”

Jimmy knows what I’m saying. “You’re worried Marc’s going to die. You want to see him again today, try to convince him to do it.”

I hesitate. “Yes. But—we’ve talked about it—it’s tricky. I’d be asking him to risk his life. He doesn’t know me like the other Marc.”

“Let him get to know you. You have to work fast. Get him to fall in love with you.”

“You don’t mean that. Last night . . .”

“Last night was last night. I didn’t understand then what you’re going through. And I was being selfish, I was thinking of myself. Now . . .” Jimmy takes my hand. “You have to stay alive,” he repeats.

My body trembles with the shock of what he’s telling me to do. The sacrifice he’s willing to make to keep me safe. The absolute love he has for me. I feel awe, I feel shame, I feel him—my Jimmy.

I squeeze his hand. “I might not be home tonight.”

He nods. “I know.”

I want to visit with Lara before I leave the house. I want to hold her in my lap and kiss the top of her head. I love the smell of her head. I don’t know why but it often smells like honey to me, although the shampoo I use to wash her hair has none in it. Other times she smells like flowers. Jimmy likes to boast that our daughter is a constant source of aromatherapy.

But I don’t stop to play with my daughter. I fear if I do, hours will go by and there’s much I have to do. Also, I’m afraid if I hold Lara even one more time, it will be to acknowledge that I might never see her again. My reasoning makes no sense but it’s how I feel.

After dressing, I leave the house quickly, giving Jimmy a painful kiss good-bye. I’m halfway to Kendor and Syn’s house when I pull over to the side of the road and call Cleo. She’s quick to answer.

“You’re still alive,” are her first words.

“How do you know? I could have died in the Field and I’d still be alive here in witch world.”

“If you had died there, you wouldn’t be calling.” She pauses. “Give me an update.”

“Wait. I need to speak to my father.”

“He’s away on important business.”

“It’s crucial I talk to him.”

“Why?”

“I’ve been thinking about Huck. I sent his DNA to my father to be tested and the lab sent a form back stating that Jimmy isn’t his biological father.”

“I heard.”

“Did you hear that the lab report was accidentally sent to our house—our house in
both
worlds—and that Jimmy accidentally read it?”

“I’m sure that upset him. I’m sorry.”

“Are you? The more I’ve thought about it, the more I’ve realized my father doesn’t make mistakes. He’s too controlled, too careful. That report was sent to our house on purpose. I
know
that. But what I don’t know is if the report is even accurate.”

“Why do you doubt it?”

“Because my father has plans for me. Important plans for my future. He’s desperate for me to free up more time, which means giving up Huck. You know the connections my dad has. It would have been a snap for him to have a lab send out a false report.” I pause. “It would have been a snap for you.”

“You think I would mislead you in such a manner?”

“I don’t know what to think.”

“I would never do that to you, Jessica.”

I feel my eyes burning. I wipe away a tear.

“It’s just driving me crazy, you know, the way it’s eating at Jimmy. He only saw the letter last night, and this morning . . . this morning he didn’t say a word about it. Here it’s killing him and he says nothing to me. Except that I have to stay alive.”

Cleo speaks gently. “He must love you very much.”

“Yes, he does. I’m sorry, what I said, I know you wouldn’t lie to me like that. It’s just hard, thinking that my father might.”

“You’ll talk to him when he gets back.”

I hesitate. “Is he all right? Where he is?”

“He’s alive. That’s all I can say. Now give me an update.”

Pulling myself together, I recount my adventures in the Field—in a more condensed form than I told Jimmy. When I’m finished, Cleo asks a few seemingly random questions about Sam and Kyle. She appears to be searching for something. I finally interrupt and ask what’s bothering her.

“I told you, to be in the Field they have to have at least six witch genes,” she says. “So far they haven’t told you everything they can do.”

“I’m no better. They have no idea I can cloak.” I pause. “Do you know anything about them from your sources?”

“Both are known to the Council. Kyle Downing, because of his music. And Sam Verra, because of his mother, Larla.”

“Sam told me she was once a member of the Council. But it sounds like she turned her back on you guys. Why?”

“Larla has the same streak you and Syn share. She’s always been wary of authority. She hates being told what to do—not that many people would try with her. At her age, she’s a formidable presence. We first met thousands of years ago and in all that time she’s always been a loner. Her thoughts are her own. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s passed that quality onto her son.”

“Do you know who Sam’s father is?”

“I can’t speak about that, and it’s irrelevant. What you want to know is if you can trust him. I’ll run background checks on him today but I already know of one disturbing report. Sam was arrested last year in connection with the murder of his longtime boyfriend, Michael Edwards. Michael was found strangled to death in a workroom at Parsons, where they were both students. Sam was arrested because he had motive and opportunity. He was working late at school that night and he freely admitted to the police he was upset that Michael was planning to leave him. But Sam swore he was innocent.” Cleo pauses. “Eventually he was released due to lack of physical evidence.”

“The way Michael was choked—was there any sign excess physical strength was used?”

“Yes. The detective in charge of the case noted that in her files. Of course, she was unable to explain the cause of the damage to Michael’s throat and trachea.”

I swallow. “Sounds like a witch killed him.”

“Clearly. I can tell by the way you talk about Sam that you trust him. But you must keep this incident in mind.” Cleo pauses. “Now Kyle, he’s had a checkered past. He’s been arrested twice on drug charges and once for assaulting a police officer. But he’s never been to jail. Each time the charges were dropped.”

“The Lapras?” I ask.

“We assume Lapra influence. We know for a fact a highly placed Lapra executive secured a recording deal for him and launched his career. You’ve seen how often his music videos play on MTV. Someone pays for that time.”

“Kyle freely admits to being rock’n’roll’s latest bad boy.”

“What better way to divert your suspicions than to admit to being corrupt? He’s not gotten as far as he has so fast without being ambitious. That doesn’t necessarily make him evil. Still . . .”

“You want me to keep an eye on both of them.”

“A sharp eye,” Cleo says.

“How about Viper’s hand? I lost fingers when I fought Russ but they grew back. Can her hand regenerate?”

“You lost the tips of your fingers. A hand is another matter, and it sounds like you severed it above the wrist. It would take a master healer to repair such damage and Viper is too young to possess such ability. You’ve definitely wounded her but keep in mind there’s nothing more dangerous than a wounded animal.”

“Any thoughts on Nordra?”

“I know you felt pressure to protect your people from Viper’s attack, but you erred when you wounded Nordra and didn’t finish him. Now both are still out there. Don’t repeat your mistake. Viper and Nordra must know where you’re heading. They’ll be waiting for you at the top of the volcano.”

“What can you tell me about that dark wall?”

Cleo hesitates. “You have to see it for yourself.”

“But you’ve seen it already.” When Cleo doesn’t respond, I realize I’ve hit a nerve. I speak carefully. “Kendor told me that the Field was hard on you. That you barely survived.”

“The Field is hard on everyone.”

The way Cleo says “everyone” strikes me as odd. I experience a flash of insight. Even before I quiz her on the point, I know the truth.

“You weren’t a witch when you were put in the Field,” I say. “Your mentor connected you there.”

Cleo takes forever to respond. “Yes.”

“He sacrificed his life to save you.” For the second time Cleo refuses to reply, and I feel a sharp pain in my heart. I force out my next words. “Is it true only one can survive? That there’s no hope for the rest of my team?”

Cleo repeats what Jimmy told me.

“You have to stay alive, Jessica.”

* * *

Syn greets me at the house in Pacific Palisades and leads me into the living room, where Kendor is waiting. Immediately I know something’s changed. The feeling in the air is much more serious.

Yesterday, there had been a degree of unreality to our meeting. They had hardly spoken about the fact they had been shuffled through time. Sure, Syn had asked about what their present-day counterparts were doing—and I had lied when I’d given the impression they were still alive—but the sheer weirdness of their situation had not been discussed.

And I had let it go. I was there for a purpose, I had told myself. To learn from two experienced witches how to stay alive in the Field. I had been relieved when Kendor had quickly started my training. There was no way I wanted to talk about his dying. I feared I would get emotional.

Now, today, it’s like the two are more aware of their surroundings, and I can’t help but wonder at the progression. From dazed zombies at the mall, to compliant instructors yesterday, to . . . what today? For the first time since they died last month, I feel like they’re totally in the room.

Syn eyes me suspiciously. “Who are you?” she asks.

I sit up straight. “You asked me that yesterday. My story hasn’t changed. I’m Jessica Ralle. The Alchemist—the old man you call William—brought you here to help train me for the Field.”

Syn shakes her head. “Nothing you say explains why we are here. And this place.” She looks around as if it’s haunted. “I do not like it.”

“Yesterday you seemed at home,” I say.

“Yesterday was a long time ago,” Kendor remarks.

I feel as if there’s no point in trying to lie to them. These are the Syn and Kendor of old—two of the sharpest minds the world has ever known. I feel their eyes on me, studying. If I lie they’ll know it.

Yet I try to stall until I can get a better idea of what’s happened to them. “You’re witches. It’s natural for you to experience every day twice.”

“That is not what we mean,” Syn says.

“Yesterday was tomorrow,” Kendor explains. “We moved through time again. Maybe it was the Alchemist, maybe a bright light, we do not know. But we were in the future, your future.”

I remember how I saw a light before I was abducted.

Marc saw the same light. I saw it through his eyes.