Seizure:

  “According to experts, the Book of Kells contains every design found in Celtic art. It’s considered the most striking manuscript ever produced in the Anglo-Saxon world. One of the great masterpieces of early Christian art.”

  “Andrews really believes those pages are from the Book of Kells?” Hi croaked. “No kidding?”

  I nodded. “He nearly had a heart attack.”

  The boys gaped from their squares.

  “I’m not kidding,” I laughed. “After examining the manuscript for ten minutes, he stood up and grabbed his chest. I thought he was going to pass out.”

  “So it’s valuable?” Shelton was leaning forward, hands on his desk, nose inches from his webcam. “Really valuable?”

  “The Book of Kells is the national treasure of Ireland, Shelton. They keep it on display at Trinity College in Dublin. Thousands pay to see it every week.”

  “What are you saying?” Ben demanded.

  “I’m saying we found a lost portion of one of the most famous books in history!” I shouted. “It’s like finding the Mona Lisa, or the statue of David!”

  “We’ve got ten pages!” Hi ran a hand across his face. “What’s that worth, Tory? What did he say?”

  “A lost folio from the Book of Kells would be among the rarest documents in the world. Andrews wouldn’t even guess, said the value was incalculable. Priceless.”

  For a moment there was absolute silence.

  Then bedlam.

  Ben raised his arms above his head. Shelton, Hi, and I started jumping up and down, screaming incoherently.

  Then, without warning, Hi disappeared. Seconds later I saw him streak across the lawn outside, shrieking like a madman.

  I needed no invitation. In moments Coop and I were running beside him.

  Ben appeared next, then Shelton. We formed a ragged circle and spun around like five-year-olds playing a mad version of Ring-Around-the-Rosie.

  This embarrassment went on for a full minute.

  I was the first to collapse on the grass, breathless and sweaty. The others dropped, one by one. We sprawled in a line, giddy, unable to believe our good fortune.

  “I’m going be like that Facebook guy,” Hi said. “Or maybe Justin Timberlake. How much does a G6 cost?”

  “Hold on!” I had to nip such talk in the bud. “Let’s not forget why we did this. We now have the money to save Loggerhead Island.”

  “But we could be rich!” Hi whined. “Super rich! Buy-Ferraris-just-to-wreck-them rich! We could own a freaking NBA team!”

  “We didn’t do this to get rich.” Ben. The voice of reason.

  “That’s true,” Shelton said. “But you have to admit, millions of dollars is pretty tempting. It’s like the dream where you win the lottery. I don’t want to wake up.”

  “If we sold the manuscript and divided the money, our pack would be split.” I sat up. “Our parents would move us hundreds of miles from each other. Sure, we’d have tons of cash. But that wouldn’t change who we are. What we are.”

  “Virals,” Ben said, rising beside me. “Freaks.”

  “And it’s not just us,” I reminded them. “What about Whisper and her family? What about the monkey colony, or the sea turtles that nest on the Loggerhead beaches? If we don’t come to the rescue, they’re all in danger.”

  “We’ve found something worth millions, and you want to just give it up?” Hi still lay on his back. “I hate those endings! We could buy Loggerhead Island with that kind of money!”

  “You’re not thinking straight.” I gently poked Hi’s shoulder. “It’s too dangerous to be a Viral alone. Who knows what could happen in the future? With our bodies. Our powers. Anything. All we can really count on is each other.”

  “We need to stay low profile,” Ben said. “And together.”

  “They’re right.” Shelton breathed the world’s deepest sigh. “I hate it, but it’s true. Our families would scatter. We wouldn’t be neighbors, classmates, maybe not even friends. That money is poison.”

  “We have to be smart.” Ben reached across me and tapped Hi’s chest. “Guard our secrets.”

  “But I wanna be a big baller!” Hi threw out his arms. “Make it rain up in the club!”

  “You’d choose money over the pack?” I asked. “Fine. We can arrange that. Part of the treasure belongs to you, so it’s your choice. No one can force you.”

  “Gaaaaaaah!” Hi pistoned his arms and legs in the air. “This blows!”

  Ten more pumps, then he sat up. “Fine. Crush my dreams. What’s the plan?”

  “We shock the world,” I said, slapping him on the back.

  Circling up, we hashed out a plan.

  “And Hi, let’s be clear,” I said when we’d finished. “Our priorities are preserving LIRI and protecting the pack.”

  Hi started to speak, but I cut him off.

  “But that doesn’t mean we have to come out empty-handed.”

  “TORY! I’M BACK!”

  Kit tossed his keys into the tray.

  “What’d you do while I was gone?” Grabbing the remote and flopping onto the couch. “Overthrow the government? Find the Loch Ness Monster?”

  “Can you please come over here?” I was sitting at the dining room table. “I’d like to show you something.”

  “Sure.” Kit dragged himself to his feet. “What’s up? Need to confess a new crime? Your secret life as a Chinese spy?”

  Kit’s eyes landed on the manuscript.

  “Wow. That’s beautiful.”

  “It’s a very rare document from the ninth century.”

  “That explains the metal case.” Kit closed his eyes. “Tell me you didn’t steal this.”

  I smiled. “Not this time. The boys and I found it.”

  “Found it?”

  “You should probably sit. I haven’t told you everything.”

  Kit took the chair beside me. “Talk.”

  “In the end, we actually did find treasure.” I tapped the document holder. “Anne Bonny left these pages in a box underneath the church on Dewees.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  I ignored Kit’s question. “While you were gone, I had the document analyzed by an expert.”

  “Of course you did.” Dramatic sigh. “Where?”

  “The Karpeles Manuscript Museum. Dr. Andrews helped me this time.”

  “Downtown. Where that psychopath Nigel Short worked.” Kit shook his head. “I’m putting a tracking bracelet on you. What did the man say?”

  “This folio was originally part of the Irish Book of Kells.”

  Kit’s face went pink. I continued before he could interrupt.

  “There might be ownership issues, and the Irish government will take a strong position, but Dr. Andrews estimates these pages are worth eight or nine figures. Minimally.”

  The pink moved toward plum.

  “You found a lost folio from the Book of Kells?” Kit’s voice was unsteady. “You dug it from the ground?”

  “It was under a flagstone. In a box.”

  “Tory, a father isn’t supposed to fear his fourteen-year-old daughter. That being said, you terrify me.”

  “Don’t be silly.”

  “Is that everything?” Kit demanded. “Is there anything else you’ve held back?”

  “No, sir. You’ve got the full story.”

  The lie knotted my gut. I ignored the guilt. Some things I just couldn’t share.

  “I do have a plan,” I ventured cautiously.

  “Of course you do.” Kit’s eyes rolled to the heavens, then dropped to me. “Let’s hear it.”

  “The boys and I have agreed to give up the folio in order to save Loggerhead Island.”

  “Give it up?” Kit’s Adam’s apple rose and fell. “You’d do that for the institute?”

  “For the animals.” I reached out and cupped his chin with one hand. “But first, you have to make me a promise.”

  “Go on.” The corners of Kit’s lips tucked up ever so slightly.
br />   “Promise we won’t move. Promise we can stay here on Morris Island. As a family.”

  “That I can do.” Kit sighed in relief. “Somehow, I’ll make it work. Whitney’s going to flip. And you will finish cotillion.”

  Blargh. “Fine.”

  “To think that ten little pages can change everything.” I ran a fingertip over the manuscript’s protective case. “We need to thank my great-great-great pirate grandma.”

  Kit’s eyebrows shot up. “Your what?”

  “Nothing. Just kidding.”

  Maybe.

  THE CEREMONY WAS about to begin.

  Hi and I hurried to chairs marked with our names on white index cards. Shelton was already seated, and was absently scrolling his new iPad.

  “Ya’ll are late,” he said. “Ben went looking for you.”

  “I brought Coop out for a visit,” I said. “He hasn’t seen his mother in weeks.”

  “I’ll shoot Ben a text,” Hi said. “He’s probably lost.”

  Shelton glanced at Hi, then started giggling. “Sorry man, but you look ridiculous.”

  “The word you seek is fly,” Hi replied. “Diamond stud earrings are the bombtrack. This is high-quality bling.”

  “For the ladies, maybe. For you? Not so much.”

  “I can’t wait until your mom sees that ear,” I said. “Please call me when that happens.”

  A large platform had been erected in the center of the LIRI courtyard. The entire staff was present, decked out in their finest. The mood was festive, energetic. Smiles were everywhere.

  “Too bad school starts tomorrow.” Hi fiddled with his newly implanted gem. “I was getting used to being liked for a change.”

  “Who knows?” Shelton closed out his email and dropped the iPad to his lap. “Maybe the Bolton kids will accept us now. Some must’ve heard what we did.”

  “Yeah. Maybe.” I didn’t want to talk about school.

  I hadn’t spoken to Jason since blasting him at the country club, when he’d asked to escort me to the debutante ball. Since then I’d completely blown him off, mainly because I didn’t know my answer. And I still had no plan for dealing with Madison. I’d be dodging landmines all next semester.

  Problems for another day.

  Two weeks had passed since I’d shown Kit the manuscript. Events had unfolded quickly, and as well as could be hoped.

  Dr. Andrews’s team of experts had authenticated our folio as a missing chapter of the Book of Kells. The discovery ran as breaking news on CNN. The art world was still frothing with excitement.

  The Irish government had gone ballistic, demanded the immediate return of the pages. Kit had hired an attorney. After days of negotiations, a deal had been struck.

  No one would talk numbers, but rumors ran wild.

  I spotted Ben hurrying up the aisle.

  “How’d you sneak by me?” He slipped into his seat and elbowed Hi. “Nice sparkler, Snooki. When’s your debut?”

  “Philistines.” Hi rubbed his rib cage. “You guys wouldn’t know class if it died in your bathroom.”

  “Maybe you got distracted by all of Sewee’s new gear,” I teased Ben. “She’s looking awfully tricked out these days.”

  “You should talk.” Ben adjusted his tie and ear-tucked his hair. “I saw about a dozen packages on your doorstep. How much camping gear did you buy?”

  I waved away the comment. “Your eyes deceive, sir.”

  “Shelton’s hoarding car catalogs,” Hi said.

  “My license is right around the corner,” Shelton replied. “Always be prepared. Isn’t that the Boy Scouts’ motto?”

  “Any chance I can score another gold coin?” Hi asked. “I was thinking Gucci for school this year.”

  “You spent your allowance,” I said. “Everything left is for outfitting the bunker. I have big plans.”

  We never mentioned the gold coins. Not to anyone. The ancient manuscript had been more than enough to preserve Loggerhead Island.

  The Virals deserved a reward. We’d solved the riddles and dodged the bullets. We deserved something for our troubles.

  “How’d it go with the old geezer?” Ben asked me.

  “Splendidly,” I said.

  After much debate, we’d given Rodney Brincefield a few doubloons. It just felt right. Without his brother’s stone disk, we wouldn’t have made it through the tunnels. A debt was paid.

  “It was nice to see his surprise,” I added. “He really is harmless.”

  “Crazy harmless,” Shelton said.

  “Why does Chance get a share?” Hi whined. “He’s already filthy rich.”

  “We wouldn’t have found the treasure without him. Fair is fair.”

  I could have also added “massive guilt,” but didn’t want to be that honest. My debt to Chance was larger than a few gold coins. I intended to make up for playing head games on him. Just don’t ask me how.

  The dignitaries began taking their chairs. Kit sat behind a long table at center stage, looking extremely uncomfortable.

  “Tell me how this works again?” Hi asked.

  “It’s a rededication ceremony,” I said. “There’ll be speeches and backslapping, that kind of thing. Later there’s a buffet.”

  “No, I mean the deal your father struck to keep LIRI running.”

  “First, Kit created a nonprofit trust and donated the manuscript,” I explained. “The cotrustees are the new Loggerhead Island Foundation, of which Kit is the director, and Trinity College in Dublin, keeper of the Book of Kells. Then the newly created trust secured a loan from the Bank of Ireland. Very nice terms.”

  All three boys opened their mouths.

  “Don’t ask,” I said. “But the answer is, a lot. A whole lot.”

  “So the trust bought Loggerhead Island?” Ben asked.

  “Correct. And not just the real estate. The trust now owns LIRI and all of Morris Island as well. The institute is no longer subject to CU’s fickle budget.”

  Kit had insisted on the purchase of both islands. The State of South Carolina had agreed, with one stipulation. Loggerhead and Morris would forever remain nature preserves. Neither could be commercially developed. Kit had been happy to agree.

  Everyone viewed the deal as a win-win.

  “With the Kells folio as collateral,” I said, “LIRI will never have funding issues again. In fact, Kit says they may expand. LIRI is poised to become the premier veterinary research facility in the world.”

  “No wonder they appointed your dad director,” Hi said. “He saved Christmas.”

  “He’s perfectly qualified. The position’s been vacant since Karsten, and Kit is a member of the senior staff. He’s a logical choice.”

  “Easy there, Lady Defensive.” Hi twirled his earring. “Just yanking your crank. I couldn’t be happier that Kit is director. He raised everyone’s salaries. My father may hang a picture of him in our living room.”

  “Did you read today’s paper?” Shelton asked. “Sounds like the Bates brothers rolled on Short. They copped to the Fletcher murders.”

  “You still believe Short knew what the treasure was?” Ben asked. “Pages from the Book of Kells?”

  I nodded. “He’s a rare-document expert. My guess is that Short saw a copy of the same report Jonathan Brincefield did. I think he was willing to kill because he knew the stakes.”

  Marlo, Duncan, and Short had each been charged with two counts of murder and four counts of attempted murder. My view? Lock the slimeballs up and toss the key.

  Kit’s generosity had benefited the Virals as well. Though a shockingly long list of museums, landmarks, and wildlife organizations had banned us for life, we’d avoided criminal charges.

  Because we were minors, the police had kept our names from the media. Very few knew what had actually occurred, or how and where the folio had been discovered. That was fine with us. Kit could have the celebrity.

  The man who gave away a fortune had tongues wagging all across the Lowcountry. Kit had become a loca
l media darling. Whitney was in heaven.

  “How’s the auction going?” Shelton asked.

  “The last doubloons sold this morning,” Hi said. “Great price. I shut down the eBay account and moved the money from PayPal. I think we’re good.”

  An AV geek tweaked a microphone. A loud tap tap carried over the afternoon air. Kit thumbed a stack of note cards. Nervous.

  I caught movement in my peripheral vision. Streaks of silver outside the perimeter fence. I stayed alert, knowing the sighting was not accidental.

  Coop appeared, Whisper at his side. Buster and Polo crowded behind, completing the family portrait.

  They shouldn’t be here. Too risky.

  Maybe it was the good vibes, or my giddiness at how things turned out.

  It could’ve been my happiness at seeing Kit receive the recognition he deserved.

  Or perhaps it was being with my best friends. My pack.

  Whatever the reason, I decided to have some fun.

  I slipped on my shades.

  Reached deep.

  SNAP.

  The flare pulsed through me. The transitions were getting smoother, the change less physically jarring.

  But the powers remained volatile. A mystery. And the virus still plagued our nightmares.

  Worries for another day. Focus.

  I closed my eyes, plumbed my subconscious. Images sprang forth. Me. Ben. Hi. Shelton. Coop, watching through the fence.

  I’d tried to explain, but the others didn’t fully understand. They got the main point—our mental linkage was possible only when the pack was together. We didn’t know what that meant, but took comfort in the bond.

  In my mind, I saw the fiery ropes. The flames were even brighter with Coop near. The wolfdog was the final link.

  Opening my eyes, I sent the briefest of messages.

  SCRAM!

  Coop yapped, circled, then disappeared into the forest.

  Beside me, the other Virals flinched.

  Three voices hissed in unison.

  “Get out of my head!”

  Smiling, I complied as Kit rose and walked to the podium.

  No way I’d ruin my father’s big day.

  Acknowledgments

  The Virals series would not be possible without the tireless effort and creativity of my son, Brendan Reichs. Thank you for making Tory Brennan’s world come alive.