Tremble (26 page)

34

Things were starting to feel normal again—whatever that meant. I moved back into my own room two days later and, that morning, found a note taped to my door from Alex asking me to meet him at noon at the picnic table outside the cabin. Everyone I’d asked refused to talk to me about his condition, saying only that he was fine and had asked to speak to me himself.

It was the first time since the day at Zendean that I’d been outside, and the chilly January air bit at my skin—but it was wonderful. I’d missed New Year’s Eve—and Kale’s first New Year’s kiss—but I was determined to spend the next few weeks making up for it.

“How’re you feeling?” Alex sat down beside me. I hadn’t even heard him come up.

I wiggled my fingers and smiled. “I’m good. I got your note.” I gestured to the bench. “Obviously.”

“I wanted to come see you right away, but they told me to let you rest. Said you got shot.”

“Surreal, right? But I guess now I can call myself a true badass. Wasn’t that what we said? It takes a bullet?”

He shifted uncomfortably.

“Oh, come on. You have to remember. That night at Memorial Park? We had this conversation about—”

He looked up from the table, head shaking slowly from side to side. “No. I don’t remember.” Sighing, he tapped the wood twice, then turned so he sat sideways, facing me. “Most of my memories are gone.”

“But they’ll come back.”

“No. They won’t. That Ginger chick is pretty sure they’re gone for good, and I can’t explain it… I think she’s right. I remember my first name and that I’m a Six—a telekinetic. I know that everyone here is important to me. My family…but that’s about it. Everything else is just gone.”

“I… No. That can’t be—”

He took my hands in his and smiled. “Don’t sweat it. I’m alive. From what I understand, there was a girl with me who wasn’t so lucky.”

This had happened because he’d helped me. Alex and I, even with our intense history, were just bad for each other. It wasn’t intentional, but somehow we just kept hurting the other. It was like there was a force field around both of us that turned our intentions to poison. Nothing we did in regards to the other ever turned out right. “Lu. Lu was killed. Ben attacked me. You came in. You saved me… I’m sorry this happened to you.”

“Don’t be.” Sighing, he leaned his head back and blew out. “I’m not sure why, but I get this feeling that I had a lot of unresolved issues. Things I couldn’t get past.” He tapped the side of his head again. “I think a lot of them had to do with you. Whatever they were, they’re not a problem anymore.”

I swallowed, fighting against the lump in my throat. “That’s true.”

“I think I have to look at this as an opportunity. A gift, ya know? This is my chance to start over with a clean slate. That Dax guy said I was kind of a dick.”

A small giggle escaped my lips. “You, um, had your moments.”

“I don’t really remember much, but I get this heavy feeling when I look at you. He said we were friends, but it was more than that, wasn’t it?”

“It was,” I admitted. “At one time.”

He nodded, justified, and stood. I noticed there was a backpack on the floor at his feet. “Anyway, I wanted to stop and say good-bye.”

“Good-bye?”

“I’m a new man—literally. I want to help with this whole Denazen thing, but I think I need to figure out who I am first. Yanno, find myself?”

Alex had a wide array of faults—faults I took great pleasure in pointing out every chance I got—but he had genuinely loved me. I loved him, too, but Kale had my heart and soul, and that would never change. Even the loss of his memory couldn’t kill what we had together. This was a way for Alex to finally be free. Even though I wanted to stop him, to keep him close and safe, I knew in my heart this was best for him. It was time to really let go.

“I think that’s a good plan.”

He turned and started away, stopping a few feet from the path. With a wink over his shoulder, he said, “Who knows? Maybe I’ll find myself a great girl. Someone like you.”

I sat there until he disappeared from sight, then stood, wincing as I turned the wrong way and wrenched my arm. I didn’t mind, though. The pain was a relief. Brandt and his friend were working on the cure and insisted it’d be ready in less than a month. In the meantime, I worried about the little signs creeping up and increasing.

But no worries. I had plenty to occupy my time until then. There was a lot of work to do. I had no intention of sitting around waiting for Vince to return with answers. I planned on getting them myself. If Marshal Cross was simply a worker bee, then we needed to know who was above him in the chain of command. We needed to know where his orders came from.

First I’d verify that what Vince told me about Denazen—and himself—was true, then I’d work on getting names. We had a handful of new Sixes under our roof now, and I had a plan that would use the ability of every last one.

I was about to head inside when the black leather bracelet on my wrist caught my attention. It was the one I’d mimicked purple the night after Kale went back to Denazen. I didn’t remember consciously changing it back, but I let it go for now. I had more important things to worry about.

There was a conversation I needed to have with Mom.

I needed to know who my father was.

Keep reading for a bonus scene from TREMBLE, as told in Kale’s point of view…

Aubrey’s Promise

Whatever was in the needle Cross gave me earlier was wearing off. The edges of the room were becoming steadily sharper, and the sick feeling in my stomach was nearly gone. How long had I been back? Four days? Five? Maybe it was longer than that. At Denazen, there was no real sense of time.

They tried to break me. No food. No water. Pain. Threats. But all these things meant nothing to me. I’d been here before. In this same exact place. The only thing that mattered now, the only thing I wanted, was for her to be safe. I could endure anything as long as she was okay.

I was about to drift off again when a small noise came from the door. A moment later, someone tall with long, dark hair, dressed all in black, slipped into the room. I eyed him for a minute, debating whether he was actually there or not.

“I’m sorry,” Aubrey said, approaching slowly. “This is the first chance I’ve had to see you.”

I considered not responding. Cross was getting desperate to break me. There was no trick beneath him. But I needed to know. “Dez?”

He stopped a few feet from me, pulling up a metal chair. “She’s fine. I healed her.”

I nodded, silent. There was nothing more to say. At least for me. Aubrey, on the other hand, wasn’t finished.

“I don’t know how much time I have,” he said, taking a deep breath. “So I need to make this quick.”

Still, I didn’t speak.

“When we met in September, my view of the world was…different. I believed in what I thought they were doing at Denazen. I believed Cross. My brother did, too.” He shifted in the chair. “Able and I, we were raised by an honorable man. Brought up to always keep our word and show no respect to those who don’t deserve it. Cross intended to go back on his promise to cure Dez. After you left with him, he told me not to cure her unless she came with us willingly.”

That caught my attention. My head snapped up, the chains giving a painful jingle at the movement. “You said—”

“I cured her anyway. My point is, my eyes were opened that day. That night, I told Able what happened.” Aubrey stood and started pacing. I wasn’t sure what he was trying to tell me, but it was obvious he was uncomfortable. “Able’s always been a little bit of a follower. He would have gone along with Cross if it weren’t for me. But I talked him into leaving. We were going to pack up and get the hell out of town before sunrise.”

“You’re still here.”

Aubrey nodded. “I went to get Able that night, but he’d changed his mind—with a little help from one of Cross’s Sixes. Mindy.”

“I don’t understand…”

“They hijacked his brain. He’s still my brother…sort of…but he’s different. Cross must have gotten wind that we were planning to bail. Able has an offensive ability. Cross doesn’t let go of those easily. You should know.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I made a promise to Dez and I want to keep it. I can’t stop what’s coming, Kale, and for that, I want you to know I’m sorry. In a few hours, you won’t even remember this conversation—”

Unease swept over me. “You’re saying Cross is going to do this to me? This brain hijacking?”

Aubrey sighed. “They’ve created a successful trial of the Supremacy drug. Domination, they’re calling it. Cross plans on giving it to you, but he needs to know he’ll be able to control you first. He plans to wipe away all memories of Dez and the Underground.”

“No!” I was weak, and even though I knew it would do no good, I pulled hard against the chains restraining me. Raw and bruising pain shot down my arms but I ignored it. “They’ll never be able to do that. Nothing can take Dez away from me.”

The sympathy on his face made me angry. He thought I was wrong. “They will. There’s nothing you can do.” He started toward the door, then paused a few feet away. “Like I said, you won’t even remember this conversation by the time they’re done, but I wanted you to know I’ll be here for you. With you. If there’s any way for you to find your way back to her, I swear to you that I will help.”

“Why?” I stopped fighting the restraints, knees giving out. Conserve. I needed to conserve what little energy I had left. I would need it. “Why would you help me?”

“No one deserves the things they’ve done to you. No one deserves to have someone he loves taken away. Cross knew I’d never leave Able behind—so he made sure Able stayed. I’ll never get my brother back. I’ve got no one now. Not really. Even if you never find your way back to her, I wanted you to know you’ll have me. I’ll stand with you.”

Acknowledgments

As always, a huge thank you to my family—my parents who are always supportive, and my brother for his computer wizardry. And to my saintly patient husband who is willing to forage for his own food when I get too wrapped up in work (which is most days).

My editors, Erica, a trusted friend and sounding board, and Liz, who continues to take chances on me, I’m eternally grateful.

A special thank you to Cathy Yardley for brainstorming titles with me. T is a lot harder than you’d think! And to Mary, JJ, and Marie for taking the time to share their thoughts and suggestions on the early drafts of this book.

For the hard work of my publicity team, Dani and Anjana, thank you. You guys are awesome and rock my socks ten times over.

Don’t miss
Prophecy Girl
by

Cecily White

Available online and in stores now!

Amelie Bennett. . . . Ending the world, one prophecy at a time.

I was born to slay Crossworld demons.

Big black flappy ones, little green squirmy ones. Unfortunately, the only thing getting slain these days is my social life. With my high school under attack, combat classes intensifying, and Academy instructors dropping right and left, I can barely get my homework done, let alone score a bondmate before prom.

Then
he
shows up.

Jackson Smith-Hailey
. Unspeakably hot, hopelessly unattainable, and dangerous in all the right ways. Sure, he’s my trainer. And okay, maybe he hates me. Doesn’t mean I’ll ignore the wicked Guardian chemistry between us. It’s crazy! Every time I’m with him, my powers explode. Awesome, right?

Wrong.

Now my teachers think I’m the murderous Graymason destined to bring down our whole race of angelbloods. Everyone in New Orleans is hunting me. The people I trusted want me dead. Jack and I have five days to solve the murders, prevent a vampire uprising, and thwart the pesky prophecy foretelling his death by my hand. Shouldn’t be too difficult.

Getting it done without falling in love. . .
that
might take a miracle.

Chapter One:

The Beginning

(…five days earlier)

“I’m not going to the dance, so quit asking,” I announced, extending a hand to my best friend Lisa Anselmo. “Binoculars, please.”

Lisa yanked a pair of black, dual-tube goggles out of her backpack and handed them over with a calculated pout. Enough to tug the heartstrings, not enough to wreck the mascara.

“Amelie, it’s our senior year. We’ve been planning this forever.”

“You’ve been planning this—”

“
We’ve
been planning this,” she insisted. “Katie and I have our dresses and everything. Don’t you remember? We swore never to go to these things without each other.”

“That was second grade, Lisa.”

“Like that makes it
okay
to ditch a pinkie swear?”

Groaning, I stared through my goggles into the dimly lit, fish-scented night.

The evening had begun pretty normally. Well, normal for me, anyway. Out the window by midnight, encamped at New Orleans’ Commercial Street wharf by twelve thirty, scoping the area for demons by twelve thirty-three. Not that there were any demons to be found. Apart from an Irish setter who tried to hump Lisa’s leg, the only activity we’d seen was a drunken sorority girl stumbling along the water’s edge. She looked young. Nineteen, maybe twenty. Her green sequined minidress hung off one shoulder, dyed-blond hair in rumpled disarray. Obviously trashed.

Hmm. Why would a girl like
that
be wandering around
here
?

“Seriously, Amelie, a pinkie swear is a pinkie swear. It’s like BFF code. You of all people should know that.” Lisa glared at me, her frosted plum lips curled down at the corners. “And don’t give me any garbage about how you can’t get a date.”

“I didn’t say I couldn’t get a date,” I muttered, distracted. “I said I didn’t
want
a date. Now, can you zip it? We’re on a stakeout here.”

“What about Paul? He’d go with you.”

“Waterfall Paul? After the Jell-O shot incident? No, thanks.” I flipped the visor down to increase the power on my new night vision binoculars. (Okay, not
mine
, exactly. Borrowed. Certainly not stolen.)

“How about Zeke?”

“Beer-breath. And he wears skinny pants.”

“There’s always Matt,” she suggested hopefully. “He doesn’t drink.”

“Matt’s awesome. He’s also in love with
you
,” I reminded her.

Lisa flicked a handful of thick chestnut curls over her shoulder and gave a tolerant sigh. “I don’t understand why this is so hard. We’re
Guardians
.”

“We’re trainees.”

“Same diff.
Every
Guardian Channeler needs a Watcher. We’re
supposed
to bond with them, Ami. It’s like
destiny
or something. If our friendship means anything to you, you’ll do this for me.”

Uh, yeah. Like I would dignify
that
with a response. At this point, Lisa’s friendship was less of a choice than a fact of life. It worked out well—kind of symbiotic, actually. I beat up anyone who messed with her, and she made sure my homework got done. Fair trade, right? Honestly, if not for Lisa’s constant nagging, I’d probably still be crouched in our kindergarten sandbox eating glue and playing with Neferet demons.

“Are you even listening to me?” She prodded me annoyingly in the shoulder.

I swatted her away. “Look, if it means that much to you, I can ask Keller Eastman. I’ll probably get herpes from holding hands with him and die a miserable, humiliating death…but for you, Lisa, it’s worth it.”

“Amelie Lane Bennett.” She gave me that look—the one she reserves for small children and people who wear white after Labor Day. “You need to take this seriously. Guardian bond assignments go up at the end of the year. It doesn’t matter how pretty you are, or how well you fight, or even how perky your boobs have gotten since last summer.”

I frowned and shifted my ladies so they tucked benignly against the concrete wharf ledge. “Can we leave my boobs out of this?”

“I don’t know, can we? I mean, look at you! Stained sweats, holey T-shirt, no makeup. And…
this
.” She flicked a clump of sweaty red hair poking out the rubber band at my neck. “You have so much potential, Ami. Must you waste it?”

“Lisa!” I grumbled. “Focus! This is life and death we’re dealing with.”

“I
know
it’s life and death,” she insisted. “There’s
nothing
more crucial than this dance.”

“Oh, for the love of—”

“I’m just saying, your mom had a great bloodline, but there’s no guarantee you’ll carry it. And with your parents’ history…” She trailed off, too polite to finish the sentence. “You’re lucky they let you stay at St. Michael’s after your mom died. I mean, you could easily have wound up in residential. Or worse, the human sector. Would it kill you to play by the rules occasionally?”

“Would it kill you to mind your own beeswax?”

“Probably,” she admitted.

I tried to concentrate on the sorority girl, but Lisa’s accusation drilled into me. Loathsome though it was, she had a point.

When my parents, Bud and Charlotte Bennett, abandoned the Guardian Community seventeen years ago, they’d tried to pretend things were normal. Not easy, since my dad had been labeled a defector and my mom a traitor to our mission. I suspect they planned to lie to me indefinitely—you know,
ignore
the fact that our family was about as human as the Loch Ness Monster’s. They’d put me in a human preschool, hid the broadswords and spellbooks, let me have human friends…right up until the day I channeled our kindergarten class turtle into the demon realm.

Thus began my career at St. Michael’s Guardian Training Academy.

My parents enrolled me mid-year with the understanding that I would be properly trained, sheltered from harm, and, most importantly, they would never hear another word about “the war on demonkind.” That denial lasted two years—the exact amount of time it took Mom to get shredded by a demon at a holiday PTA event. Merry Christmas, right?

I suspect Bud still awakens each morning with the faint hope I’ll transform into some tree-hugging, dirt-loving hippie daughter he can be proud of. I, by contrast, awaken each morning with a nasty urge to kill things.

Demonic things.

Big black flappy things, little green squirmy things… We don’t talk about it. It’s one of many topics we don’t talk about.

I lowered the extra binocular lens and tipped up my night goggles.

“Lisa, this is the third night in a row we’ve staked out this location. And the third night you’ve spent driveling about Watchers and bonds and dances. I know it’s important to you, but I need you to respect that
this
mission, sanctioned or not, is important to me. We’re technically at war here. Professor D’Arcy’s body was discovered not thirty feet from where we sit, and I, for one, am interested in finding out who killed him. Now, are you going to help me or not?”

She squinted her eyes, contemplative. I could practically see the thoughts processing in her head, the gravity of the situation weighing in. Finally, she spoke.

“What about Lyle? He still likes you.
And
he was at the top of class rankings last year. Any girl would be lucky to land him as a bondmate.”

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“Nope.”

I gave a weary sigh. Seriously, the girl was like a dog with a giant wad of beef jerky. “Lis, I’d rather die a cat lady than go out with Lyle Purcell again.”

“There’s an idea. You could borrow Brutus for the gala,” she mused. “You might get a hairball off the goodnight kiss, but his kitty carrier would make a nice accessory.”

“You’re hilarious. Now shut up.”

I flipped the goggles back down and kept scanning the horizon. A good thing, too. Sorority Sally had collapsed, giggling, against a wrought iron bench, head lolled back and throat bared like the cover of a Gothic romance novel. I guess the greasy homeless dude napping two benches down must’ve had a thing for Gothic romances. As soon as he heard the giggle, he pried open a bloodshot eye, emptied his rum bottle, and hauled himself vertical. Streaks of dirt clung to his coat and his shoulder-length hair dripped with sweat as he staggered toward the girl.

“Hey, Lis, we’ve got a situation.”

“Vamp, were, or demon?”

“Vamp, I think.”

She pulled a wooden arrow out of the quiver and watched as I threaded it into my bow.

“Remember,” she cautioned, “you have to wait until human blood is spilled. Any unprovoked attack on a Crossworlder violates the Peace Tenets. Do you need thermal imaging for vamp confirmation?”

“Do we have thermal imaging?”

She rummaged in the backpack. “No.”

“Add it to the shopping list.”

Thermals or no, I was ninety-eight percent sure this was a vamp attack. Maybe ninety-seven. My hand drew back the bow as the dude crouched over Sorority Sally, a predatory look in his eye. His fingers tapped her cheek, tenderly at first, then harder. I could see his lips forming the words,
Hey, baby. Want to party?

Yeesh.
After a hundred thousand years of verbal evolution, could a guy not produce a better pick up line than that? I barely had time to stifle a groan before the girl’s eyes fluttered open. Faster than thought, her hands gripped his collar, her mouth in a vicious twist.

That’s when I released the arrow. The shaft wasn’t as tight or familiar as the weapons at school, but it flew straight enough.

“Bull’s-eye,” I said as it entered her shoulder.

I’m not even sure if the poor schmuck noticed, he was so wasted.
She
definitely noticed. Her eyes narrowed to angry slits as she turned in our direction, fangs bared. Served her right. Maybe next time she’d remember to flick some water on her face before she went hunting. Only vamps and zombies wouldn’t sweat in this humidity.

“Duh, why didn’t you just kill her?” Lisa asked, annoyed. “Two more seconds and it would have been justifiable vampicide.”

“Lis, for all we know, she volunteers weekends at the soup kitchen. Besides, it wasn’t a vampire who killed D’Arcy.”

“Yeah, well,” she sniffed, “it wasn’t a demon, either.”

I was about to ask what she meant when I noticed a stirring in the distance.

The blond girl had shooed her would-be snack on his way and was in the process of working the arrow out of her shoulder when something dropped from a tree about fifty feet away. It scuttled toward her, razor sharp talons scraping the pavement, a bubbling snarl at its lips.

“Oh, crud. New target. UV arrow.”

It took me less than two seconds to reload and take aim, but by the time I did, the demon had already launched itself at the girl. Its skin was black and mottled, with coarse, oily hair along its shoulders—one part beetle, one part gorilla, three parts Sicilian mafioso.

“Uh, Lis? I need an ID.”

Lisa slipped on a second pair of night goggles and started paging through the ginormous Encyclopedia O’ Demons she’d brought along. Headmistress Smalley
seriously
needed to get that thing in an e-book format.

“Got it! Rangor demon, third level. Head shot only, everything else is armored. Left eye for the kill,” she summarized aloud. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Me, too.”

The Rangor slashed at Sorority Sally with manic glee. For a second, it looked like they might topple down the embankment into the Mississippi where I couldn’t get a clear shot, but the girl recovered enough to get her arms up. She rolled to the ground, tossing the beast over her head. Not as fast as some of the vamp videos we’d seen in training class, but way faster than
I
could have moved in that dress. Impressive.

“Hey, Guido,” I called.

Startled, the demon jumped to its feet
(um, claws?)
and ran toward us, gathering momentum. Arms raised, it let out a howl of fury. Its whole face seemed to fold open, rows upon rows of teeth bared in serrated ridges.

That’s when I sent off the second arrow.

The shaft pierced the beast’s left eye, spilling bright UV liquid down its face in a trickle of purple acid. A cry ripped through its throat. Inhuman. Screechy. Like the emergency brakes of a railway car. Lisa clamped her hands on her ears.

“Wow, this is super subtle,” she yelled over the ruckus. “Maybe next time you could take out an ad in the
Times Picayune
?”

In hard lurches, the demon writhed and twisted on the ground. Rangors weren’t known for their passive deaths, but really, it seemed to be taking longer than necessary. In the distance, horns honked and garbage trucks clanged, sure signs of human approach.

“We’re so gonna get busted.”

I sighed. Lisa was right. If a Guardian caught us, that would be one thing. But involving humans was a whole other enchilada.

“All right, give me a knife,” I ordered.

She handed me a hooked blade about the size of a banana and stood back.

It took less than twenty seconds to separate the crucial parts, at least enough to stop the twitching. By the time I finished, my arms were scratched, my hair was clumped with mucus, and the vampire had fled into the night.

“You’re welcome,” Lisa yelled after her. She humphed and turned back to me. “Omigod, did you see that? Ungrateful toads, every last one of them.”

“Tell me about it,” I said, wiping the demon goo off my arms. “You want to get the body or the weapons?”

“I’ll get the body. You’ll probably end up summoning a demon horde if you try to dismiss it. Remember Veronica’s sweet sixteen?” She smirked. “Priceless. I thought she’d never get her hair back to its normal color.”

I frowned. “It’s not my fault I have allergies.”

“Oh, is that what we’re calling it?” Lisa gestured to the boardwalk where the drunk human lay, passed out in a pool of vomit, not twenty yards from my pile o’ demon. “Amelie, how many times do I have to say this? Birthday parties are one thing, but it’s
illegal
for unbonded Channelers to mess around with Crossworld beings. Not without a Watcher present, and
certainly
not around humankind. Our handbook specifically says,
The fist of eternal damnation shall fall heavily upon he who knowingly reveals the existence of the Guardians.
Didn’t you read it?”