Part 26 (1/2)
”Antonio?” His name came out as a whisper.
He dipped his head. ”Si, Jenn.” That voice. His voice. She swallowed hard against the tide of emotion inside her. Except for a few words during the battle with the werewolves, they hadn't spoken since the attack.
”Are you . . . okay?” It sounded lame, and she didn't even know what ”okay” meant anymore. Are you going to murder us? How did you ask that?
”I will be,” he said firmly. He looked at her father, and Jenn thought she saw red glowing in his eyes. To her shame she wished Antonio would lose control and attack him.
”We had a little heart-to-heart,” Gramma Esther said. She looked at Jenn's father, and at Jenn. She crossed to Jenn and bent down in front of her. She pushed ringlets of Jenn's hair away from her forehead. ”Now, how about you fill us in on what happened to you?”
Jenn opened her mouth and then closed it, having no idea how to begin. In the background, Holgar and Father Juan kept laughing.
An hour later Jenn stood in the dining room, staring at everyone else gathered there. Jenn's mom had come to, but the monks had given her something to calm her nerves, and she had gone back to Jenn's old room. Sade hadn't left the room she shared with Jenn and her mom when Jenn and the others had returned, and now she fussed over Jenn's mom as she tucked her in bed.
Noah insisted on handcuffing Jenn's father's wrists; then he escorted him to a previously unoccupied room and made sure that monks were stationed to watch him. Jenn was incredibly grateful to Noah for taking charge of their prisoner, because there was no way she could trust herself to deal with her father even on that rudimentary level.
”Where's Heather?” he'd asked. The question still rang in her ears. A thousand wicked retorts had come to mind, but none of them was so painful as the truth. We don't know.
Father Juan and Holgar had both regained their composure and were sitting quietly, soberly, at the table where they took their meals. Antonio and Gramma Esther sat across from them. Jenn took a place next to Holgar, where she could study Antonio. Noah sat down next to her when he returned from ”securing” her father. Noah was chewing his cinnamon gum. When he offered her a stick, she took it. Antonio watched them together. He watched everything.
They quickly filled Esther and Antonio in on Solomon's offer, as well as his goodwill return of Jenn's father. The two listened carefully to everything before the general discussion began.
And after it had gone on for three hours, they were still no closer to knowing what to do about it. Finally Father Juan stood up with a yawn. ”We're all exhausted. Might I suggest that we get some sleep and come at this again in a few hours?”
”Good idea,” Jenn agreed. She was so tired she kept fuzzing out and missing parts of the debate.
Everyone had agreed that if Solomon sided with Lucifer, their cause was hopeless. But his offer of an alliance could easily be a ruse, and he might already be in league with the other vampire-helping him gather intel, or trying to soften them up for the later attack.
But if Solomon was telling the truth, he could be a valuable a.s.set, if not a totally trustworthy one.
It seemed like an impossible situation. Jenn hoped that sleep would make things clearer. At least for her.
The others began to disperse, but Antonio stood, looking a bit lost. After a moment she understood. Unlike the rest of them, he had no room to go to. He'd spent his time in the cage downstairs. Gramma Esther must have arrived at the same realization, because she put a hand on Antonio's arm.
”Why don't you sleep in the hall outside Jenn's room, guard her against any intrusions while she gets some rest?”
The suggestion surprised Jenn, but Antonio looked so grateful it was almost comical. Then the seriousness of the situation penetrated. Her neck ached where he had bitten her, and she resisted the urge to rub it.
Jenn nodded her a.s.sent and headed for her room, Antonio trailing behind her at a respectful distance. Gramma Esther must have her reasons for trusting Antonio, or else she wouldn't have suggested that he guard Jenn while she slept.
Jenn didn't trust Antonio, but she trusted Gramma Esther. For now that would be enough.
Alone in his room Father Juan quickly realized that even though he was bone weary, sleep was not going to come. Frustrated, he sat up and debated his limited options. He wasn't in the mood to speak with anyone, even to be around anyone, which pretty much meant he was trapped in his room.
He sighed. At least he could find something useful to do. From a small velvet sack beside his bed he pulled out his runes-rectangular black stones inscribed in gold with arcane symbols-and began to cast them, seeking answers.
An hour later he was still getting answers he didn't like. Much as he didn't want to admit it, the runes had never lied to him.
Battle was coming, and it was true that forces from without would sorely test his warriors. But the forces within were just as important, and those he could do very little about.
The stones told him that there was a darkness in Jenn's soul that was blinding her on her path. Unless it could be lifted, all would be lost. He thought of the look on her face when she had first seen her father step off the helicopter. There had been murderous rage there. And she had ignored Paul Leitner since-or had seemed to.
Her inability to forgive him would hinder her in every aspect of her life, but most particularly in being able to trust Antonio and lead the others with a clear head. That was dangerous for all of them. But forgiveness did not always come easily, and in this case, her father had done nothing to truly earn it. He was repentant, of that much Juan was certain, but that wasn't going to be enough.
He sighed and gathered up the stones. They clinked together as he put them back in the bag. He set it by his bedside and tried again to go to sleep.
Sometimes Esther thought she might be the only sane one on the funny farm. She had gotten some sleep, but mostly she had worried about Jenn and Antonio. She had stopped herself from going to check on them, though. It was a test, and Antonio needed to pa.s.s it without someone watching over his shoulder. It was also a risk, but most things worthwhile were.
She was also struggling with her anger toward her son. She knew she needed to go to him, talk to him. But she didn't have the words yet, not like she'd had with Antonio.
Antonio was a good man fighting against the darkness inside of him.
Paul was a coward.
And she had no words of comfort for a coward.
Was it because of the life Charles and I gave him? Life on the run, always one step away from getting caught? Picking up in the middle of the night, making him memorize the details of a new false ident.i.ty, forcing him to abandon his friends? She remembered one night in the car, speeding out of town, when he had sobbed hysterically, finally confessing that he'd been hiding a puppy under his bed. They couldn't go back for it. Esther had called a local no-kill shelter and told them to pick up the little dog.
Antonio's been handed a worse deal, she thought. At least he's trying. My son caved at the first sign of a threat. He didn't just leave a puppy behind. He handed my two granddaughters to the Cursed Ones.
Wearily, she finally rose. It was almost evening. She found the others gathered again in the dining room. Her relief at seeing Jenn and Antonio was short-lived as she realized that everyone was hovering around a computer.
”This should be it,” Noah said, and sat back.
A static sound filled the room, like a radio station not quite tuned in right. Finally it cleared up, and she could hear it crystal clear.
” . . . of the Resistance with word of the latest tragedy in this war.” The man's voice was shaking. Esther hugged herself and listened hard. Something was horribly, horribly wrong.
”Last night just outside Milwaukee, humans imprisoned inside a concentration camp were ma.s.sacred by vampires loyal to Solomon.”
Everyone s.h.i.+fted in their chairs and looked at each other. When Jenn met Esther's eyes, Esther saw her own fear mirrored there. But when Antonio looked up at her, she saw the full understanding and horror of a man who had lived through World War II.
”More cities have been overrun by the Cursed Ones. America, when will you wake up? When will you see what is happening to your sons and daughters?” The man's voice was pleading. Esther could feel his pain, and her eyes burned with unshed tears.