Read Conspiracy Boy (Angel Academy) Online

Authors: Cecily White

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BOOK: Conspiracy Boy (Angel Academy)
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“Say it again,” I agreed, as Katie scrambled to her feet and ran over to Matt.

“Babe, I’m sorry,” she said, stroking her hands over his face. “The spell came out stronger than I meant. Then I couldn’t direct the extinguishing spell. You okay?”

He gave a short yet genuine chuckle. “I’m fine. Not so sure about my Diesels.”

Katie grimaced, then flicked me a quick smile. “Thanks, Amelie.”

Yup, that’s what she said.

No hatred. No hostility. No thinly veiled threat. Beyond bizarre. But that wasn’t the oddest thing. The oddest thing, I didn’t even notice until she backed away from Matt. It wasn’t as intense as the golden strands that Jack and I activated when we channeled together, or even the pale, pearly strand between me and Luc—but it was definitely there. A dull, yellowish tinge to the air that seemed to hover between them.

“Wow,” I whispered. “Is that—?”

“A bond,” Luc finished over my shoulder. “Did you think you were the only one allowed to fall in love?”

I had to blink a few times to make sure I wasn’t imagining it. Nope, there it was, plain as day. It lingered for almost a full ten seconds after they separated and Katie returned to her seat with the other trainees.

“I don’t get it,” I whispered to Luc. “Why is he training them on defensive moves against Channelers? We’re the good guys, aren’t we?”

“For now.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means we hope for the best and prepare for the worst. St. Michael’s plays by the rules. That’s where your boyfriend thrives—playing by the rules. Here, there are no rules,” he said, “so we prepare for the worst.”

I half turned until my face was only a few inches from his. “And that’s where you thrive? With no rules? No hope?”

He gave a wry smile. “Hope is for people with choices, love.”

I sat through the rest of the training exercise while Luc filled me in on the recruits. Of course, I already knew Veronica and Skye. I didn’t even ask if they had their parents’ permission, because obviously, no way.

Veronica’s dad had held military rank since the beginning of time. And since he worked with the Guardian Council, anything not reported to them and triple-stamped with Akira’s approval would get immediately classed as illegal. Likewise, Skye’s dad served under General Manning, so there was zero chance he would green-light something so antiestablishment.

A few others, I recognized from school. A handful of vampires, one or two of the youngling Channelers, a few Watchers. The were-teen who squared off with Veronica had settled cross-legged on the floor and fiddled nervously with what looked like an old iPod.

“What’s his story?”

Luc glanced up. “That’s Dane’s nephew.”

“Why’s he here?”

“For the free juice boxes.”

I gave Luc a look that I hoped suggested a very uncomfortable future if he didn’t pony up a straight answer.

“Evan is here because Dane knows what can happen when too much power is concentrated in one place,” he said after a moment.

“Meaning?”

“Meaning you should ask Dane if you want to know more.”

Curious, I examined the boy.

Reddish-blond hair, lighter than Dane’s, flopped forward over his face. His features looked young, with none of the hard lines and cynicism I saw in the Watchers from my class. Nonetheless, there was something careful about him. I could barely make out the jagged line of a pale scar along his forehead.

“Prophecies don’t determine the future,” Luc said. “We do. Every choice, every day. We create the world. So we must inhabit our creation. That’s why the Society formed.”

I looked at him, wondering if he realized I had no clue what he was talking about. “What’s the Society?”

“Thought you’d never ask.
The Society for Unaffiliated Crossworlders
. As you know, some Crossworld groups possess ungodly wealth and power.”

“You mean the Immortals?”

That earned me an arched eyebrow. “As you also know, with power comes
abuse
of power. The Society trains targets of abuse to fight back before they become victims.”

“Like giving a turkey a handgun before setting him free for hunting season,” I observed. “Cool. You know, if I had a group with an acronym that spelled ‘SUC,’ I’d go by
the Society,
too.”

“I said precisely the same thing to your father.” Luc drew a deep breath, which I know took effort given his complicated relationship with oxygen. “If you don’t mind, I’d prefer not to discuss that on the grounds that it may incinerate me.”

I had to laugh. Now
there
was a sentiment I totally understood.

As my laughter faded, he shot me an amused glance. “You should laugh more often. It’s far less nauseating than your speaking voice.”

“That may be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Don’t let it go to your head.”

I downgraded to a smile. The truth was, it didn’t surprise me at all that the lower ranks of Crossworlders had orchestrated an uprising. It seemed a lot more reasonable than sitting around waiting for some stupid prophecy to set them free.

“Things are wrapping up.” Luc stood and reached a hand out to help me up.

It was on the tip of my behavioral repertoire to take it—that’s what a lady does when a guy offers a hand—but at the last second, I pulled it back. Granted, the likelihood was tiny that anything would happen, but as long as that stray bond thread existed between us, I didn’t feel quite settled touching him. I needed to talk to Jack.

“So, I get why the Society exists,” I said, rocking to my feet unassisted. “What I don’t get is why you’re here. Shouldn’t you be out tyrannizing virgins?”

“Alas, the virgins shall have to wait. I have business to attend to.” A frown creased his forehead, but he said nothing more. “Excuse me a moment.”

I watched as he made his way through a cluster of were-creatures and vampires to where Matt and Katie huddled at the edge of the ring. If it’d just been us in the room, I might have been able to eavesdrop. With all the ambient noise…no way.

Instead of making a fool of myself trying, I decided to check in with Bud. There were a few questions I still needed to ask him, and I didn’t want to lose my opportunity.

By the time I reached the office, Matt had his hands pocketed, and Katie’s head was wagging around like a bobblehead on a mission. Apparently, neither of them liked what Luc was saying.

It took all the self-restraint in my bones to walk past them without craning my neck to listen.

“Daddy?” I poked my head through the office doorway.

He was bent studiously over the desk, pen scratching across a page of numbers and glyphs. Nothing I recognized, but given the attention it commanded, I assumed it must be important. Beside him hunched a guy in his early twenties, equally engrossed with the page.

He reminded me of a younger, more elegant version of Professor Gunderman—equal parts geekfest and James Bond suave. A long-sleeved T-shirt and faded jeans hugged his body, and his eyes held such intelligence and conviction, I couldn’t help but like him instantly.

“Am I interrupting?”

They looked up as I entered.

“No, baby. Your timing’s perfect. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

I sidled in, leaving the bubbling cacophony of sound behind me. Most of the time, I appreciated the extra senses Luc’s blood gave me. Other times, they made my head feel like the sensory equivalent of a witch’s cauldron. This was one of those times.

“Blake, let me introduce you to my daughter,” Dad said. “Amelie, meet Blake Fassnight.”

I squinted at the guy. “Fassnight, huh? Any relation to my future mother-in-law?”

“Brother of the same, actually.” Blake’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “She loves you, by the way.”

“I find
that
hard to believe.”

“You’re very intuitive.” He grinned, extending a hand. “So…Wraithmaker?”

“That’s the rumor.”

I took his hand and froze. His skin was icy to the touch—way colder than Luc’s or Annabelle’s—which didn’t bode well for an Immortal bloodline. Or anything nondemonic, for that matter.

Blake must have noticed my confused look, because he loosened his grip. “I’m demon infected, going on two years now. Not contagious unless I bleed on you. Or kiss you.”

“I’ll watch my step.”

Behind Blake, my father chewed on his lip nervously. “Ami, he may be demonblood, but there’s no danger. He’s a unique case.”

“A unique case with a long, tedious story, which you needn’t be bored with,” he said. “Trust me.”

“Anyway, it’s nice to meet you,” I said, and I meant it. “And sorry about your demonblood stuff.”

“Likewise.”

I would have said more to the guy, but honestly, I didn’t really know where to take that conversation. There were very few folks I’d ever known who’d been exposed to pure demonblood: Henry, Alec, and now Blake. Alec’s was intentional and nonlethal. Henry’s happened during battle, but he hadn’t gone viral, either. Blake obviously had.

And me?
My exposure had been to Luc’s blood, which wasn’t pure demon. Pure evil, maybe, but not pure demon. For the time being, I was still an unknown commodity.

Normally, Bud would have given me a lecture for not being more chatty. Today, however, he must’ve been so blissed out to see me, he managed to overlook my first graderesque manners. “Sweetheart, did you need something?”

I blinked at my dad and crushed the urge to go straighten his glasses. It would have been so easy to slip back into the same pattern I’d occupied since Mom died—taking care of him, cooking dinner, doing his laundry, etc. All the things that were apparently too dangerous for someone with possible demonic infection to manage. Ugh, so strange to think how dramatically our lives had shifted in just a few months.

“I just had a quick question about something. It’s private,” I told him. “You got a minute?”

He and Blake exchanged a look.

“Go ahead. I’ll finish this up,” Blake replied. “See you tomorrow?”

“If we’re still here,” Dad confirmed.

Blake gathered the papers and headed out to the main training area, where the horde of students had all but dispersed. “Oh, and Amelie,” he said, almost as an afterthought, “Immortals aren’t all ruthless bastards. And demon infection isn’t the end of the world. Call me if you ever need to talk, okay?”

“I will. Thanks.”

No way would I call.

Even if the unthinkable happened and my blood went viral like Blake’s, I’d never be the kind of girl to chat it up with a stranger. Even a moderately chatty stranger who didn’t seem entirely psychotic. Though that
did
make it more tempting.

As soon as he was gone, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the pink Post-it Lisa had left for me. I’d held it in my hand at least a dozen times over the past three days, but it had never seemed right to show it to anyone.

I’m not sure what I was afraid of. Maybe that, since she’d touched it, they could use it to track her? Or to hurt her? Or worse? Jack had said something about it being a good thing she’d gone into hiding, because if the Council ever caught her, she’d probably spend the rest of her life being brainwashed and dissected. I hadn’t asked if he meant
literally
dissected, because really, there are some things a girl shouldn’t know about her school administration.

Yeah, maybe I wasn’t amping to start the
Lisa Anselmo Serial Killer Fan Club
, but she was still my sister. It seemed wrong to do something I knew could get her killed.

I held out the Post-it, still stuck to the edge of my fingertip. “I found this in my locker. Do you know what it means?”

He stared at it. “Someone at your school cares about your wardrobe?”

I glared at him until he put on his glasses.

“My, aren’t we taking ourselves seriously?” he said, exhaling. “Okay,
civitas terrena
. It’s obviously a reference to St. Augustine’s
Civitas Dei
, the City of God. Except
terrena
means ‘earthly.’ Is it maybe linked to a portal exit code?”

“That’s what I thought. But why?”

Dad shrugged. “Do you know who wrote it?”

“I have an idea,” I hedged but said nothing more. After a few seconds, it became clear I didn’t need to.

A shadow clouded his features as he reached for the note—carefully—like it might crumble into dust at his touch. “Well,
that
changes things. Have you showed it to anyone?”

“Just Jack. No one else in the Guardian community trusts me, let alone wants to talk to me.”

I stayed quiet as he looked it over.

We’d never really discussed Lisa. I mean, I knew it killed him, the way this had all gone down, finding out she was his daughter and that she’d basically been kidnapped at birth. He had adored her when he thought she was just my friend, I knew that much. But what he felt for her now, I had no idea. Hatred? Betrayal? Love?

“Dad, you okay?”

Bud nodded, his gaze still glued to the pink Post-it. Although there were no windows in the tiny room, the shadows seemed to stretch longer. Finally, Bud handed it back to me.

“Check with Matt. Or maybe Katie. They knew her better than I did.” His voice faded a bit. “Sometimes I think everyone did.”

In silence, I folded the paper back in my pocket.

“Dad, can you tell Luc I’ll see him back at the house? I’ve got something to do first.”

“Sure thing.” He nodded. “Be safe.”

It wasn’t until I’d hugged him good-bye and sneaked out the back that Bud’s words fully registered in my head.
They knew her better than I did.
Past tense, like she’d already died or something.

The thing was, Lisa wasn’t past tense to me. Not yet.

Maybe not ever.

Chapter Eleven:

Out of the Closet and Into the Fire

“Are you saying you can’t do it? Or you
won’t
do it? Because if it’s the second one, I’m happy to bribe or threaten you.”

Lyle glared up at me from the hospital bed. “Do I look capable of jumping a portal to you?”

“Depends if you want to survive it.”

“Generally, yes.”

“Then no, not really,” I said. “Want some more pizza?”

He snatched the cardboard takeout box from me and continued chewing. To be fair, his skin was decidedly less pale, though he still looked like he’d digested a demonic tapeworm. And he was still eating like a maniac, despite the late hour.

“Why don’t you ask Jack to do it?” Lyle folded an entire slice of pizza in his mouth. “I’m sure he’d be glad to jump you to wherever this exit key drops and whip out the old incident report form for Lisa. It’s his job, right?”

“He’s mad at me. We’ve got some issues with our bond being tracked.”

“Dare I ask?”

I fiddled with my own pizza slice as a visual of Luc’s demolished dining room flashed through my head. “Best not to. Anyway, Jack’s been a little gung ho with the rule following lately. He’d probably behead first and ask questions later. I can’t risk it.”

Lyle pondered a piece of pizza crust before shoving it in. “What about Matt?”

“He’s with Katie now. Besides, do you really think he wants to go hang out with his murderous ex-girlfriend and her psychopathic booty call?”

“Solid point,” he said. “That Fassnight guy, maybe? If he’s really demon infected, you might not need to shield him—”

“Because bringing another quasi-evil and completely unknown bloodsucker into this situation is such an awesome idea.”

“Touché.”

“Besides,” I added, “with my luck, there’s probably a prophecy about him going nuts and eating all the poodles in the world.”

“Would that be so bad?”

We both chewed in silence for a moment, pondering a world without poodles. It’s odd how normalizing that can be, just chewing alongside a guy. Like going to the movies or buying Girl Scout cookies. It was something Luc and I generally didn’t share—unless he decided to start chewing Girl Scouts, that is.

“You know you’re going to have to ask Luc,” Lyle said after a while. “He did Watcher duty for you before, and that was a remote jump. He could totally manage it.”

“I know.”

“So why don’t you ask him?”

It was a fine question—one I didn’t have a good answer for. So I did what every smart girl does when asked an impossible question.

“I should go. Call me if you feel better. Or if you die,” I added. “Maybe then they’ll let me heal you.”

“Will do,” Lyle said, as I plopped a kiss on his forehead. “Hey, Ami?”

“Yeah?”

“If you find her,” he said, then paused. “Just don’t do anything stupid.”

Translation: Don’t go all evil and start killing people.

“I’ll try,” I promised.

“And Ami?”

I turned, halfway out the door.

Lyle grinned. “Tell Smith-Hailey he’s a lucky bastard.”

“Oh, he knows,” I said. On impulse, I ran back to Lyle and gave him another kiss on the forehead, then let the door swing shut behind me.

It took a while to get back to Luc’s house. Not like I hurried. Midnight stars glowed like hot embers in the sky, and the walk gave me time to sort through what to do next. Ideally, Jack could help me with the locating Lisa part. The only problem was I didn’t fully know what he would do if we did find her. And more importantly, I didn’t know what
she
would do. If the prophecy still hadn’t been fulfilled, then her goal hadn’t been reached. What if she tried to kill him again? Could I stop her? What if I had to choose between them?

There weren’t a lot of people around, given the late hour. Still, the closer I got to Luc’s house, the more vacant the streets became. Almost like people could sense crazy wafting off the mansion. Even stray cats opted for different hunting grounds.

By the time I turned the corner to the Montaignes’ back entrance, I was so lost in thought I could have bumped into a Meliox demon and not even noticed. What I
did
run into was just as dangerous and almost as slimy.

“Guardian Bennett.” Lori Hansen stepped into the lamplight. “What are you doing here?”

I tried to smile, though I’m pretty sure it came out like a grimace. “Just out slaughtering innocents. How about yourself?”

“I’m doing my job.”

My eyes widened. “You’re slaughtering innocents, too?”

“I’m warding the house.” She frowned. “Amelie, I know you don’t like me—”

“Understatement.”

“—but there’s no need to be so hostile. You’re a talented girl with a bright future. I would like it if we could be friends someday. We
are
both on the same team, you know.”

“Actually, I’m on the team that wants to preserve life,” I said. “Not on the psycho murderer team.”

I started to walk back toward the house, but she stopped me. “I had reasons for what I did last fall. Just because you don’t understand them doesn’t mean they’re not valid.”

“Valid? You tried to kill me,” I reminded her.

“You were an escaped convict.”

“And Jack?”

That made her hesitate. “I was under orders.”

“Well, good for you,” I said. “Congratulations on following orders.”

It probably would have been polite to say something empathic about how hard it must have been for her, but I just couldn’t. There was no excuse for doing something so obviously wrong, even if you’re under orders. I didn’t even glance back this time as I stalked into the house.

I took the stairs two at a time, plowing into Arianna on her way down. She looked flawless and beautiful, as usual, which only made me feel dowdy in my jeans and lame peacoat.

“Good heavens, dear, you’re shaking. Are you ill?” She frowned. “Shall I have Marguerite make you some tea?”

I stared at her, trying to think of something to say. My head was still filled with the last few hours—trying to piece it all together. I didn’t need tea. I needed a therapist.

“I’m fine. Have you seen Luc?”

“In his quarters, I assume.”

“Thanks.” I nudged past her as the door swung open at the top of the stairs, Jack emerging from his bedroom.

My heart jumped at the sight of him, and not just because he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Don’t get me wrong, that definitely helped. I couldn’t help staring at the shadows curved under his well-defined chest, the ripples of muscle lining his abdomen. Even the silky golden hair and pale battle scars slashed over his arms begged to be touched. It all just made me want to push him back into his room and shut the door.

“Hey,” he said, stepping closer to me. It was like taking a hit off an oxygen tank—my whole body ignited.

“Hey, yourself,” I whispered. “What are you doing up?”

“Couldn’t sleep. I made this for you.”

My gaze fell to his hands, to the soft, knitted scarf he held there. It had muted grays and blues, with that super-silky, nubby yarn that makes the world seem snuggly, even in a snowstorm. I couldn’t help smiling as he looped the scarf around my neck and twined it into a snug knot.

“There. That’s better.”

“You were worried,” I observed. “You always get domestic when you’re worried.”

He shrugged. “If you hadn’t come home when you did, I was going to start baking cookies. I couldn’t feel you for a while. It makes me nervous when I can’t feel you.”

I nodded. That was definitely mutual. He’d become such a fixture inside me, if I went too long without seeing him, the world started to feel off balance. Sometimes I didn’t even notice it until I saw him again. Then everything clicked into place, my body hummed, and my soul sat up and stretched. And the world made sense again. Like now.

I leaned close to him, my forehead pressed against his collarbone. “You wouldn’t believe the night I’ve had.”

“I might,” he said. “Annabelle’s looking for you.”

“I’m sure she is.”

Careful not to ignite our bond, I let my hands slide up his sides. The indentations of his ribs stuck out in familiar ridges—like a musical instrument I hadn’t been allowed to play in far too long. It left a palpable ache of need in my chest. “Do you have a minute? I need you.”

“Mmm, my three favorite words,” he said. “What did you have in mind?”

“Something epic.” I let him dangle on the optimism as I took his hand and led him down the hall to Luc’s room. When I knocked on the door, Jack’s shoulders slumped.

“Not
exactly
the epic I was hoping for,” he commented lightly.

“Vampires rarely are.”

Luc opened the door wearing silk pajama bottoms and no shirt, with a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. “Oh, joy,” he mumbled through a froth of toothpaste. “Company.”

“We need you,” I told him as he wandered back to the bathroom.

“It’s going to be epic,” Jack intoned.

“Cheers,” Luc said and spat into the sink.

It took me a few minutes to explain my plan, then a few more to calm Jack down. I guess letting me jump an unmonitored portal to an undefined location, probably into the arms of a waiting psychopath and a known assassin, wasn’t on his list of approved leisure activities.

“Over my dead body,” Jack said, tugging a shirt on. Regrettably. “Let me revise that. Over my cold, dismembered, decapitated, un-revivifiable body.”

“Don’t hold back, Jackson. Tell her how you
really
feel,” Luc said.

Jack ignored him. “You’re not doing it. No.”

“Yes, I am.”

“You can’t. I won’t help you.”

“You don’t have to.” I pointed at Luc. “He will.”

“I’ll what now?”

“You’ll jump me through this portal to the exit locus key Lisa snuck into my locker last week,” I told him.

He thought about that for a second. “Yeah, okay.”

I smiled at Jack. “It’s all settled.”

“Nothing’s settled,” Jack said. “It’s not happening.”

“It is.”

“Is not.”

“Is.”

We might have gone on like that for another hour if someone hadn’t knocked on the door. Rather forcefully.

“Jackson.” Lori Hansen’s voice seeped through the door from the hallway. “The outside wards are done. Akira needs us on campus.”

Luc sighed. “Remind me to get a
Do Not Disturb
sign for my bedroom door.”

“Too late,” I said. “You’re already deeply disturbed.”

Lori banged again. “Jackson, are you hearing me?”

Grumbling lightly, my bondmate shut his eyes. After a few beats, he opened them, clapped his hands, and said, “Okay, everybody in the closet.”

Not precisely what I was expecting, but appropriate, nonetheless. With varying levels of complaint, Luc and I shuffled into the closet. He looked vaguely zombielike with the dark circles under his eyes. I’d gotten used to sleep deprivation over the years, but I had to admit, even for me, this was pushing it.

“All right, I’ll help you. With a few rules.” Jack shut the closet door behind us, effectively forming two layers of insulation between us and Lori Hansen. We could still hear her banging, but it was easier to ignore. “First,
I
jump her, not you. This is Guardian business. Guardians should handle it.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but he cut me off.

“Not negotiable. Second, if we do find Lisa, you maintain strict defensive protocols. No running into her arms shrieking like a hormonal teenage girl, got it?”

I fidgeted with the scarf still loosely knotted at my neck. “I
am
a hormonal teenage girl.”

“You know what I mean. Third, if anything dangerous or unexpected happens—”

“To her?” Luc broke in. “Inconceivable.”

“Shut it, Luc,” I said.

“—then we portal back here immediately,” Jack finished, wrapping his giant hand around mine. “You’re too important to me. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you.”

“Things happen to me every day.” I stepped closer until I could feel his breath on my hair, smell his sunshine-and-marshmallows scent. “If you’re with me, I’ll be safe.”

“Promise?”

As he talked, my skin started to do its glowy thing again. It wasn’t my fault. It’s just when you’re standing in a dark room next to your super-hot boyfriend, listening to him tell you how cool and important you are, it’s kind of hard not to get the warm fuzzies. The glow alone should have been enough to make me pay attention, but, unfortunately, I’m not too smart sometimes.

“Um, cousin?” Luc interrupted. “Not to be a killjoy, but can you cut that out? Immediately, please?”

I broke my gaze with Jack just in time to see a stutter of gold light, followed by a quick flash of purple. It’s not entirely clear to me when the air began to tighten, or when the walls began to fizzle like baking soda in vinegar. By the time I turned around, the entire west wall of the closet had dissolved into a fractal map of Crossworlds power and purple darkness.

Unsettlingly familiar purple darkness.


Protorum.
” Intuitively, I threw up a shield. Not that it did any good.

“Amelie, get back,” Jack said, shoving me behind him.

“We’re a little late for that, don’t you think?” Luc sounded vaguely bored, which I supposed is typical for him when he knows there’s no point in fighting. When the purple settled into a predictable rift pattern, I understood why.

“You”—Petra stepped through the hole between the worlds and leveled a finger at me—“are a tremendous pain in the ass.”

“I get that a lot.”

“You’re about to get it a lot more. Come on,” she said. “We’re leaving.”

Jack shuffled me sideways as she stepped through the shadowed portal, all the way until my shoulders smacked the shoe shelf in the corner. A few of those weird, chalky rocks clanged off the ceiling, but it was nothing compared to what had happened at the wharf.

“Petra,” Jack said, “I’m not going to let you hurt her.”

“How dense are you, Jackson?” Annoyance layered her voice. “I’m not trying to hurt her. I’m trying to
save
her. And we need to go
now
.”

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