Death, Doom and Detention

  “What exactly did you do?” Cameron asked, his voice razor sharp.

  I cringed. “It’s okay, Cameron. Nothing happened.”

  “I’d like to hear Isaac’s side of it.”

  I realized Isaac had become anxious. His expression was wary when he looked at Cameron. I’d heard that pretty much everyone in school was afraid of him, but it was just so hard to believe this huge guy would be afraid of anyone. “From what I’ve been told,” he said to Cameron, “I threatened her with a knife.”

  Cameron bit down and he turned a heated gaze my way. “Did we forget to mention that?” He stepped closer to the bed, making his own threat with the set of his shoulders.

  “And here we go,” Glitch said. He sat on a heating unit by the window to watch the show.

  Sydnee stood protectively at the other side of the bed, and I stepped to intervene. “I can toss you out of here, Cameron, if you don’t behave.”

  He placed the most cavalier expression on me I’d ever seen. “You can try.”

  “Cameron,” Brooke said, tugging his arm. She laughed softly, as though trying to excuse Cameron for his bad manners. “Lor has this. Really.”

  I decided to ignore him. “I’m sorry, Isaac. Just pretend he’s not here. Do you remember what happened at all?”

  He shook his head as Sydnee took his hand, her face lined with worry. “I can’t seem to recall the last few days, in fact. But some of the guys told me I’d threatened you. That I carved your name into a desk and said I was going to kill you or something.”

  The heat from Cameron’s gaze intensified. He so wasn’t helping.

  “You didn’t threaten to kill me, Isaac. You said they want me dead.”

  “Who?” Cameron asked.

  “I don’t know.” He plastered his palms over his eyes.

  Cameron leaned closer. “Would it help if we went outside?”

  I’d had it. I pointed to the door. “You can leave now. Isaac is the victim here, Cameron. Just like Jared was.”

  “I just find it really interesting that nobody thought to mention this before.”

  “I had a few things on my plate. You can’t expect me to remember every little death threat.”

  “Yes,” he said, his voice frighteningly calm, “I can. This changes everything.”

  I frowned. “How does this change anything?”

  He stepped closer to me. “Now we know for certain they simply wanted Jared out of the way. They want you dead, Lor. They.”

  “Oh.” He had a good point. “Then let me do my thing, yeah? Maybe I can get something.”

  Cameron stepped back but still kept up the menacing act. Brooklyn nudged me and nodded toward Isaac’s shoulder. When I looked at Syd, she gave an approving nod.

  I leaned in and placed a hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry about all of this. You’ll be fine,” I said, patting his arm before resting a hand on it. Brooke said something in the background to keep his attention while I concentrated.

  Blue eyes, sharp and crystal clear, appeared underneath a mop of sandy brown hair. “Ready for round two?” a boy asked.

  “Do I know you?” Isaac asked him.

  He was tall, his face somehow disproportioned. It was the new guy, Vincent.

  He said something. A word I didn’t understand, and Isaac’s vision blurred. The scene was hard to make out, but I saw a hand, two fingers red, dripping with blood. Vincent lifted them, rubbed them across Isaac’s forehead. “This is the most powerful blood available on Earth, big guy. You’ll either do what we ask, or you’ll die. Comprende?”

  When he’d finished, he slipped his fingers into his mouth and licked off the remaining blood. His eyes drifted shut as he let a feeling of ecstasy overtake him. After a moment, he blinked back to Isaac, his expression blissful, intoxicated. But he stopped and leaned in closer. “Who’s in there?” he asked, squinting. Then a seedy smile slid across his face. “Is that you, Lorelei?”

  I gasped and jerked back. Cameron caught me before I slammed into something important, like a heart monitor.

  “Are you okay?” Isaac asked.

  I coughed to cover my spaz attack and said, “Yes. I’m fine.”

  “Isaac was just telling us about the knife he had,” Brooke said to me.

  “Right,” he said. “I don’t even own a knife. I remember images, like blurry snapshots of the last few days, and I remember being in Mr. D’s office, him opening a drawer and dropping a knife into it. That’s the first I remember seeing a knife. It struck me as odd because I got the impression he thought it was mine.” Isaac gazed at me, pleading with me to believe him. “It wasn’t mine, Lor. I swear.”

  I patted his arm again, this time for real. “I believe you, Isaac. I know you would never hurt me.”

  “Or stab her repeatedly,” Brooke offered. “Or strangle her with your bare hands.”

  Turning to her, I slid a finger across my throat giving her the cut signal. I’d covered all that with the you-would-never-hurt-me line. At least she had my back. In a morbid, sadistic kind of way.

  Isaac turned to Syd, his expression sad, full of regret. “I could have killed my dad last night. What is wrong with me?”

  “Lorelei will figure it out,” Syd said, her faith startlingly humbling.

  Isaac turned to me in question, and I had no idea what to say to that.

  “But we should leave so you can rest.”

  “Thanks for stopping by,” Syd said, her eyes questioning.

  I nodded to her. “He’s going to be fine.”

  A relieved smile spread across her face.

  We thanked the Johnsons for allowing us some time with their son. They were happy he was okay and yet worried about why he’d tried to kill himself in the first place.

  I would’ve loved to reassure them, but what did I know? Whatever Vincent did to him, it seemed to be over. But who could say for certain?

  We stepped into the morning sun. The day was chilly despite the brightness around us. Typical winter weather in New Mexico. Sunny and brisk.

  “What did you see?” Brooke asked.

  They all stopped and gathered around me. While I hesitated to say anything in front of Ashlee, it wasn’t because I didn’t trust her. Far from it. She’d kept my secret for weeks now. I was more worried for her safety. Then again, my touching Isaac to try to get a vision was hers and Sydnee’s idea. I at least owed her an explanation.

  “I saw the new kid,” I said, looking up at Cameron. “He spread something across Isaac’s forehead. Blood. He said a word and Isaac seemed to come under a spell. Then he told Isaac to either do what they asked or die. Right before he licked the blood off his fingers.” I shivered in revulsion. “It was like a drug to him.”

  Cameron seemed to pale before my eyes. “Did he say whose blood it was?”

  I shook my head. “No. But he did say it was the most powerful blood available on Earth.”

  He cursed softly under his breath and turned from me. “You should have told me about Isaac yesterday.”

  “I was going to,” I said, my defenses rising. “But you were busy with that whole beating-the-crap-out-of-Jared thing. I’ll just walk back to school.”

  I stepped around him, but for every step he took, I took three. Outwalking him would be impossible. And he would never leave me anyway. I wasn’t sure why I was suddenly behaving like an impetuous child.

  “You realize this changes everything,” he said, keeping step with me.

  “You said that before.”

  “They wanted him out of the way to take you out. Plain and simple.”

  I stopped and looked up at him. “You said that before too. But accepting it is not going to be easy. I plan to fight it tooth and nail. Pretend it isn’t real. Give me my fantasy, will ya?”

  “And with his blood, they have the means.”

  “With his blood?” I asked, a noxious dread creeping over me.

  Cameron looked away, lost in thought. “They must have harvested his blood when they took h
im down. I have yet to figure out how they managed to do that, by the way.”

  “Can we get back to his blood?”

  The others stepped close again.

  “As far as I know, Jared is the only archangel stuck on Earth. There would be no blood more powerful than his. It would make for a great elixir.” He bowed his head, his brows drawn in a sharp line. “They could get anyone to do anything they wanted with it.”

  “With Jared’s blood?” Brooke asked, her nose crinkling in distaste.

  When he didn’t answer, I stated the obvious. “But Isaac didn’t do what they wanted.”

  “His size,” he said with a nod, “his personality, his faith. Any number of things could’ve given him the will to stop himself from killing you. If they’d chosen any other student.”

  “But they have,” Brooke said. “There are others. So many kids have been acting strange for a few days now. Have you noticed how many kids are out sick?”

  “Ever since that party Friday night,” Ash said.

  Glitch nodded. “And there was blood by the campfire at the clearing.”

  “If they were made to ingest it…” Cameron’s voice trailed off.

  “The new kid was there,” Ash said.

  That surprised me. “I didn’t see him.”

  “It was late. Isaac told Syd that the new kid showed up after almost everyone had gone home. He was there just long enough to meet a few of the guys. Said he was interested in playing football next year. Then he left.”

  Cameron breathed out a frustrated sigh. “Vincent could have harvested Jared’s blood earlier, then performed the ceremony there. Got them to ingest the blood, especially if they were drunk.”

  “Ew,” Brooke said. “That is so wrong.”

  “I need to know who was there late,” Cameron continued. “If he got to anyone with a weak constitution, Lorelei is still in great danger.”

  Ash gave an uncertain shrug. “I can try. I’m not sure Isaac will remember.”

  “That’s okay,” he said. “Just try.” He looked down at me. “We need to know who that shooter is from your vision.”

  I nodded and started toward Cameron’s truck. “Our conversations are so uplifting anymore. So full of hope and promise.”

  Glitch followed and wrapped an arm over my shoulder. “We’ll figure this out, Lor.”

  Brooke hurried to my side too. “That’s right. Don’t you worry about a thing. We have Cameron on our side. And an unconscious archangel who apparently has ecstasy for blood.”

  “Actually,” Cameron said, looking up in thought, “it’s probably more like heroin.”

  I sighed softly. In the long run, this wasn’t about me. None of it was. It was about this war. It was about my grandparents and the Order of Sanctity. The people of Riley’s Switch. The entire human race, if the documents of the Order were to be believed. Which, I had seen enough strange events in the last few weeks to believe anything those documents had to offer a thousand times over.

  We rode back to school in silence, all of us stewing in our own thoughts. Add some potatoes to us, and we’d be a meal.

  * * *

  The rest of the morning progressed relatively smoothly. Besides the plethora of odd looks. I hoped the looks meant they were curious about how I got my hair so healthy-looking and not about how they’d been programmed by an evil nephilim descendant to kill me. Either way, the looks were odd. And there were a lot of them.

  I broke down and texted Grandma for a status update on Jared. No change. Cameron was starting to get worried. I could tell. He didn’t want to tackle this alone. Facing nephilim hopped up on the blood of an archangel was a lot to put on a guy.

  We realized pretty quickly the creature whose name shall not be spoken aloud wasn’t in school. So that was a bummer. Then I had the bizarre impression that she was at the house with Jared. Alone. While I was at school. I had to call Grandma between fourth and fifth to make sure she wasn’t.

  Which, she wasn’t. So, I was good.

  Hopefully, she was in therapy. She’d probably need it after what she saw.

  We heard more kids were getting sick, having to go home left and right. One even had a seizure in the gym. The paramedics had to be called.

  “Okay, there has got to be something in the water,” I said.

  “Like your boyfriend’s blood?” Brooke asked, crinkling her nose again.

  By lunch, over 25 percent of the student body was out sick. It got to the point where parents were picking up their kids for no reason other than to avoid whatever unexplainable ailment was going around. I could hardly blame them. It was all over town. My grandmother texted me, asking me if I was ready to go home yet. I told her no. We were no closer to finding out what was going on, who was behind the shooting in my vision. I couldn’t give up now.

  As Brooke and I walked to lunch, Cameron close on my heels, I had the distinct feeling I knew how the presidents’ daughters felt over the years. Always watched. Every move scrutinized. I thought about trying to outrun him for a few glorious seconds of freedom, but the run probably wouldn’t last even that long. I might get a couple of feet. A yard if I were lucky. Sadly, nobody had ever accused me of being lucky, so I didn’t risk it. The failure would be humiliating.

  As I fished through my bag for my cell phone, Cruz de los Santos, a Riley High basketball player who had the height to prove it, brushed past me close enough to send my book flying.

  “Hey,” I said when he kept walking.

  Cameron was there at once. He picked up my book and handed it back. “Did he hurt you?”

  “No. The punk.”

  “That was so rude,” Brooke said, looking back at Cruz. “He didn’t even apologize.”

  “How much you want to bet he was at the party?” Cameron asked.

  I sighed loudly. “You know what? I’m not even hungry. I just want to sit outside in the open air while you guys eat.”

  “No,” he said.

  “I’ll sit on that bench on the other side of the cafeteria. You’ll still be able to see me.”

  “Just eat fast,” Brooke said. “I’ll take watch.”

  “I thought we’d discussed my level of comfort with you taking watch.”

  “Fine,” she said, putting an arm in mine and dragging me off, “just get something to eat and come sit with us. You’ll be two minutes.”

  Left with a growling stomach and no choice, Cameron led us to the bench, then hurried inside to grab a tray.

  After the huge, four-o’clock-in-the-morning breakfast and all the coffee I could drink afterwards, I didn’t mind skipping lunch. Or skipping the odd looks that surely awaited me in the cafeteria. Brooke stuck by my side the whole time, offering her support, her shoulder, and her complaints.

  It was too cold to be outside. She was hungry. She felt like a sticky bun. Not sure on that one.

  She draped herself across the bench melodramatically. “I’m going to starve before the day is over.”

  “Dude, go eat.”

  “I don’t want to be disloyal.”

  I stopped rummaging through my backpack. My lip gloss was gone. No doubt about it. “How is your eating disloyal?”

  “Because then I would sit with all those people who want to kill you. It would look bad.”

  “Oh, good point. I wonder what’s keeping Cameron.”

  She tried to raise her head off the bench but couldn’t manage it. “I don’t know.”

  “For heaven’s sake, I’ll go hit the vending machine.”

  She bolted upright. “Sweet. Bring me something colorful.”

  With a chuckle, I headed out in search of sustenance. My leaving the bench was hardly dangerous. There was absolutely no one crazy enough to be outside in the cold. Of course, I thought, halfway to the building, nephilim don’t feel the cold. I wondered if the descendants of nephilim felt the cold.

  I glanced around and decided to hurry. The vending machines lined the back wall of the main building. After picking an array of colorful fo
ods, I started to head out—when the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. No way. I kept walking. Better to ignore the hairs on the back of my neck than invite trouble.

  A male voice echoed down the empty hall. “Hi.”

  I whirled around, but no one was there. Without looking away, I started backing toward the doors. Toward Brooke. Toward safety.

  Or, well, toward a short chick with a killer glare.

  “Is your name Lorelei?”

  A yelp escaped me as I whirled around again, dropping a MoonPie and Brooke’s chocolate milk.

  The kid in front of me caught them both, one in each hand, then straightened to face me. I recognized the army jacket that was three sizes too big. It was the kid from the Clearing the other day, the one hiding in the trees. He looked about thirteen, with matted black hair under his hoodie and bloodshot eyes. Though he wasn’t that tall, he seemed to tower over me. Perhaps it was the curious look in his gaze that held something corrupt, something dark.

  “You should be careful.” He stepped forward.

  I stepped back. “I saw you at the Clearing the other day. Do you live here?” I took the milk and pie-ish-like substance from him. When he didn’t say anything, I asked, “Are you hitting the vending machines too?” If he was programmed to kill me, best to play dumb. Pretend like all was right with the world and run the microsecond I got the chance.

  “No. I just wanted to see you. Alone.”

  That sounded bad. “Um, okay.” Speaking of alone, where the heck was Static Cling when I needed him? Easing toward the door, I asked, “So, what’s your name?”

  He fell in step beside me and grabbed the door when we reached it. “Noah.”

  I started to say it was nice to meet him, but he didn’t open the door. He was actually holding it closed. Why did I get myself into these situations? I couldn’t even go for a MoonPie alone? I smiled the most nonthreatening smile I could conjure. “Can you open the door, Noah?”

  “No.” The expression on his face startled me. It was almost apologetic. His hand around my throat startled me more. I dropped the contents in my arms and pushed, but he was much stronger than he looked. “You have to help me,” he said.

  “Okay,” I squeaked out.