Secret of Betrayal: Book Two of The Destroyer Trilogy Page 3
Milo, on the other hand, actually surprised me by not shying away from the attention. He gave several interviews, showed everyone his diktats, and told the entire world that he supported me. I refused to go on camera with him, but I couldn’t have been more proud. Eventually, the media started getting in the way of us training without an audience, so Milo too has become adept at ditching the news crews. If only he was as good at getting away from his teachers.
I think Ms. Hernandez’s sudden interest is partly trying to make up for being so awful to Milo before. It really wasn't his fault he couldn’t do any of the homework she assigned last semester, since at the time he didn’t actually have any Perception. Her interest is also due to the fact that, like me, she quickly discovered that Milo’s Perception talent is incredible. It’s the reason he was able to subconsciously use it very effectively most of his life. His ability to block his emotions from me without realizing what he was doing was what made me think he wasn’t talentless in the first place.
Ms. Hernandez continues to scowl at me through the entire class, but by the end of the hour she’s grinning at Milo and complimenting him prodigiously. It’s almost enough to make me jealous. The slightly creeped out expression on Milo’s face—and the way he keeps trying to get away from her—prevents me from worrying too much. Although, it would make me feel better if Ms. Hernandez was an overweight grandmother rather than an attractive woman in her early thirties.
The bell ringing interrupts her gushing, and Milo scrambles to get down the aisle and away from her eager attention. It makes me laugh that sometimes he still forgets he has all the talents he needs. If he tapped his Speed right now he would be out of her reach before she could blink. I have to stifle a chuckle as he nearly trips over someone’s bag in his hurry. Only my reaching Milo’s side makes our persistent teacher back off. I throw her a catty smile for good measure and pull Milo into the hallway.
“I almost wish I was still a Cipher after that,” Milo groans.
“Don’t worry,” I say as I pull myself against his chest, “I’ll be there to make sure she keeps her interest strictly academic.”
Milo laughs, a welcome sound, and leans in to kiss me when a terrified scream rips through the hall.
Chapter 3
Mixed Feelings
We spin around in the direction of the scream and I find myself staring at Casey Harper curled up on the ground, clutching her head and screaming. Her friends are kneeling down next to her, but I dash forward anyway. We’re not friends. I barely even know her, but she sits in front of me in Spiritualism, and I know she is farther along than anyone else in the class. If she’s been dabbling around in the spirit world without a guide, she might be in serious trouble. I drop to my knees beside her, scattering her friends in an instant.
“Casey,” I say as I shake her shoulder, “are you all right? What’s wrong? Can you hear me?”
Another wailing shriek bursts out of her before she suddenly quiets. Her eyes are closed, and her body limp. I recognize the signs of a trance right away and change tactics. Wrangling my fledgling Spiritualism, I send my spirit away from my body. The clash of my intruding spirit against hers sends a jolt through her body. I keep pushing until I reach her consciousness. Instead of the focused core that should be there, I find a warbling mass of fear. Something I don’t immediately recognize has ahold of her and is refusing to let go.
“Casey,” I whisper through my spirit, “what’s going on? Are you okay?”
“Libby?” she yelps in surprise.
“Yes, are you okay?”
“Thank goodness you’re here! They want you,” she says, trembling and struggling viciously against the spiritual bonds I can see holding onto her. “They’re screaming at me! You have to talk to them! Please, Libby!”
“Who wants me?”
Casey visibly tries to calm herself. There is still terror in her eyes, but her body stops thrashing against her bonds enough for her to focus and attempt giving me a clear answer.
“The spirits,” she says. Her body trembles again, her focus slipping. “I…I was just trying to convince Nellie to break up with her jerk boyfriend. I shouldn’t have tried to manipulate her with my Spiritualism, but he’s really terrible to her.”
I grab her shoulder and shake her gently to get her mind back on what I’m asking her. “What happened when you tried to tap your Spiritualism?” I ask.
She shudders, both physically and spiritually as the bonds yank against her once more. “As…as soon as I reached for it…something grabbed me. Someone grabbed me.” Her body starts convulsing with sobs. “They won’t let me go until you talk to them. They just keep screaming at me.”
She slaps her hands over her ears. I can’t hear anything, but she folds under the pain of their attack. “I don’t want to be here anymore. Let me go!” she begs her captors.
“Casey, calm down. Tell them I’m trying. Tell them I’ll talk to them as soon as I can.”
“No, they say you have to do it now! They won’t let me go. Please, Libby.” Her sobs are now shaking me, too. “Please, Libby, make them let me go. I don’t want to be here anymore! Please, you have to talk to them.”
“I can’t. I don’t know how yet. I can’t find them. Tell them I’m trying,” I beg. Her hysteria is starting to make me panic. What lengths will the Ciphers go to in order to get out of their prison? Please don’t hurt her, I beg them, even though I know they can’t hear me.
Suddenly Casey’s physical hands grip me so tightly I know there will be bruises. “There isn’t enough time, Libby. You have to talk to them now. They won’t be here later.”
In my panic I jerk her body and spirit alike. “Why won’t they be there? What’s going to happen to them?”
“I don’t know!” she wails.
“Ask them, Casey. I have to know what’s going to happen. Ask them!”
“They won’t tell me! Something’s changing. They’re scared. You have to save them,” she sobs feebly. Her voice weakens, becoming almost nonexistent. “You have to save me. Make them let me go.”
The weakness of her voice terrifies me. Desperation pushes me to act. I don’t know what I’m doing, but I can’t let the Ciphers hurt her. Barreling forward, my spirit pours over Casey’s body. She cries out in shock at my intrusion and tries to fight me off, but I smother her effort quickly. I may not be able to do much with my Spiritualism yet, but the sheer strength of my talent counts for something. Casey’s body slumps in my arms as I wrap my spirit around hers, attempting to completely encase her and cut off every other influence. I almost have her when I slam into a wall of resistance.
The force of the impact rocks me, but I don’t let go of her.
The Ciphers have no talents, or at least they don’t yet, but when you cross into their domain they gain some kind of power over you. I can’t even get to their prison, let alone fully understand it, but I know enough about Spiritualism to know that you can only influence what’s already there, not completely redefine part of a person’s spirit. Casey was terrified, and they seemed to be using that to make it impossible for her to fight for herself. Another thing I know a lot about is how to bury your talents so deeply no one can recognize them. I’ve never tried doing that to another person, but it’s my only hope.
Rough and fast, I start shoving Casey’s spirit back into her body, smothering it with mine. The tether tying her to the spirit world stretches taut, but holds. I shove harder, using every bit of my spiritual strength to get her away from the Ciphers. When I finally get my hands on them, they’re going to be sorry for ever doing this. Casey groans against the force of my pushing, but she’s under too much stress to try and stop me. One final shove more powerful than anything I have done before snaps the line holding her.
She comes back to herself in a gasping rush. My own spirit flies back into my body, leaving me disoriented and shaky. Casey throwing herself into my arms doesn’t help.
“Thank you, Libby! Oh, thank you. Thank you!”
My senses and vision come back into focus. I wrap my arms around her and laugh in relief. I can’t believe I did it. I was so scared they were going to kill her. Pushing her back, I ask, “Are you all right?”
She holds her hands up and watches them tremble for a second before nodding her head. “Yeah, I think I’m okay. Thank you. I was so scared.”
“I was, too,” I admit. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
Suddenly I become aware of Milo standing behind me. I reach over my shoulder for his hand, and he grants my request immediately. I know he can feel me shaking. His strength and love wash over me and slowly start to calm me back down.
“Libby, what happened?” Casey asks quietly.
Her question brings the rest of my awareness back into focus. The entire hallway is crowding around us, gawking in fascination. “I don’t know,” I say, “but maybe for a while you should avoid using your Spiritualism without a guide. Just in case.”
She’s burning for answers, but the crowd pressing in on us makes her nod.
Shaking herself, Casey starts to stand. She steps on a few of her scattered belongings and stoops to gather them up. Casey has never talked to me before this, but she was never outwardly vicious to me either. Taking a chance, I move as if to help her gather her things and grab her cell phone off the floor. She notices what I’m doing and watches from the corner of her eye as my Speed-enhanced fingers program my number into her phone in a blur nobody else will even notice. Her nod is almost imperceptible. I hand her back her phone and move to stand up.
The entire crowd of students takes an involuntary step away. Casey’s pack of friends moves away from her as if she’s just contracted leprosy. I sigh, suddenly very glad she has my phone number. She may need some new friends after this. But at least she isn’t dead. I silently wonder whether she’ll have as many mixed feelings about that as I often do.
The only one who doesn’t shy away is Jen. I hadn’t noticed her there before, but the familiar little notepad and pencil in her hand says she just caught every detail of what happened. Every visible detail anyway. Thank goodness she doesn’t have Spiritualism or my life would have just become a lot more complicated. The scowl on her face says she’s probably thinking the same thing.
I stand up the rest of the way—putting Jen out of my mind for now—and turn to find the comfort of Milo’s arms. The sight of Braden standing twenty feet down the hall, out of Milo’s line of sight, traps me with indecision. I should just ignore him, pretend he doesn’t exist. But I’m about to walk away from the girl I just saved and leave her to a mob of fear-crazed teenagers. Locking gazes with Braden, I ever-so-slightly tilt my head toward Casey. My secret request is answered by his serious nod. Always more observant than Lance ever was, Milo notices my distracted nature and turns to see what I’m looking at.
Braden is already gone.
I step away from the crowd, then, and silently watch Casey get up unassisted. If the way the others are treating her is affecting her in any way, she doesn’t let it show. She simply finishes up at her locker like nothing has happened and then walks away. Unfortunately, she doesn’t get more than five steps down the hall before Ms. Sanchez approaches her. I can only pray that Casey has enough sense not to give our Spiritualism teacher the details of what just happened. It’s bad enough that Casey knows the Ciphers are trying to contact me. I certainly don’t need anyone else knowing, or even worse, figuring out why they want to talk to me in the first place.
Outside of my circle of trusted friends, the only ones who know the truth about the Ciphers are the Guardians and Seekers. And not even all of them know. Braden certainly doesn’t seem to understand everything going on. Of course, he could be putting on an act for my benefit, a lure to get me to trust him, but when he came to see me after we clashed at the theater the honesty behind his concern for me was too powerful to deny. I push Braden out of my mind and watch Ms. Sanchez question Casey. The bell rings, but I keep watching until Casey makes enough excuses to slip away down the hall.
Ms. Sanchez turns her missile-like glare on me, facing me for the first time in months. The hateful, unrelenting quality of her expression makes me wish she had kept up her practice of ignoring I exist. She knows something of what happened just now. That much spiritual energy couldn’t possibly be splashed all over the school without her noticing. And guessing at her unpleasant aura, Casey didn’t give her the information she wanted. Good girl. But I have the feeling Spiritualism class is not going to be a pleasant experience tomorrow. She stamps away determinedly.
“You okay?” Milo asks as he starts pulling me down the hall.
“Yeah.”
It’s an automatic response, but a second later I catch myself and stop. Milo pulls up next to me and waits.
“No, actually, I’m not okay. I was right about the Ciphers. The Guardians are going to kill them all.”
Chapter 4
Holding Out
Focusing has become a lost art for me. At least at school it has. It was a problem before, but after what I just went through with Casey, I haven’t been able to concentrate on anything since yanking her back to the physical world. My last few classes have been a blur of mumbling. My eyes watch the clock hands creep around the face like inchworms, one tiny, lurching step at a time.
I only have one more class to go. When the bell finally cuts my teacher off, I force myself to take a deep breath. I let the desks around me clear out before I gather my own belongings. I try to avoid bumping into people at all costs. So far, I only get menacing glares or pale expressions, but I know that if I knock into the wrong person I’ll be accused of purposely trying to injure someone. All I need is one drama queen or vicious student to put my tenuous deal with President Howe back on the chopping block.
When I exit the classroom, Lance falls in next to me. I look over at him with a questioning glance. He doesn’t notice. “What’s going on?” I ask. The hallway is noisy, and I’m sure I spoke loud enough to be heard, but he doesn’t answer.
We’re headed in the same direction, but we don’t usually walk together. Lance and Milo both have their last classes on the opposite side of campus from me. Lance is rarely ever this serious. A hint of worry creeps across my skin, leaving goose bumps in its wake.
“Hey, is something wrong?” I ask Lance as he follows me toward my locker. Everyone else in the hall is rushing to go home. I’m the only one with one more class. Mr. Walters’ Destroyer training class in always interesting, but I wish I were getting out of here, too. With Lance acting weird, I’m not as interested in being on time for class as usual.
When Lance doesn’t respond to my question this time either, I nudge him with my elbow.
“What?”
“Why are you brooding?” I ask. “You’re freaking me out. Is something wrong?”
He frowns. “Something … odd happened in my last class.”
“It’s that kind of day.” Please let this be odd like a girl asked him out. That hasn’t happened since he threw in with me. I’m about to ask him to elaborate, but I don’t get a chance. As soon as my locker comes in sight Lance pushes in front of me and blocks it from view.
Odd. That word doesn’t adequately describe this day. I don’t think any word can.
“What are you doing?”
“Checking your locker.”
“What? Why?” My brain scrambles to remember if there’s anything inside that I would rather he didn’t see. I try pushing him away, but he isn’t budging. “Why are you screwing with my locker? Afraid someone booby-trapped it?”
He pauses in his work and turns to look at me. “Something like that.”
Oh. So it was that kind of odd. “What happened?”
“I was told that you should be sure to check your locker.”
“By who?”
Lance shrugs. “Some kid ran into me after my Western Civ class. I don’t know who he was. Just mumbled it as he passed by me.”
“Great.” I stare at the locker, Lance’s
hand on the combination lock. “You’re not actually going to open it, are you?”
He hesitates. “Well, what else am I supposed to do?”
“Call…” I cut myself off before making a huge blunder. Calling the school guardian is not going to work. I’d rather open the locker myself. “Um, let me open it. I can probably withstand something unexpected better than you can.”
“No,” he says shaking his head. “I can’t.”
“Come on, get out of the way. My strength is already double yours. If I get hurt I’ll heal twice as fast. I doubt it’s anything too serious. The kids at this school aren’t smart enough to create anything that’s actually deadly.” I try to push him away. He surprises me by shoving me back.
“No, Libby, you don’t get it. I can’t let you near your locker.”
Lance gestures at the Guardian emblem on his blade. Ah, he literally can’t let me open the locker. His Oath to protect me won’t let him put me in danger. It will actually cause him horrible pain to let me approach my locker.
“Is that the only reason you won’t let me try to open the locker?”
He grins. “You’re the one who ran up on that stage to save Milo’s worthless butt. You should have to handle your own death threats.”
“You ran up there too,” I remind him. “And if you call Milo worthless again you’re going to regret it.”
“Oh really?”
“I’ll tell him…and then stand back.”
Lance glares at me, and says, “I was trying to save you, not Milo. If it had been up to me, I would have let them cart him off in a heartbeat.”
I doubt he’s kidding, but I let this one slide because I know Lance honestly thinks Milo is dangerous and shouldn’t be near me. I think he’s crazy, but I can’t convince him he’s wrong. “Milo isn’t going anywhere. In fact, maybe we should go get him.”