Birthright (Residue Series #2) (20 page)

“I feel fine,” he declared, pushing beyond my resistance and sliding his legs over the edge of the bed. “And who stripped me down?” he asked, staring at his boxers.

Again, chuckles carried over the weeping.

I glanced around briefly
, finding
Charlotte’s face glossy with tears,
and
her blubbering momentarily stunn
ed
me. I didn’t think she had it in her.

Mr. and Mrs. Caldwell stood over us, having rushed into the room when the house began to shake. Aunt Lizzy was beside them. It was clear from their expressions they couldn’t exp
lain what had just taken place, but that
didn’t matter. Jameson was alive.

Miss Celia and Miss Mabelle stood in the doorway, leaning against the door jamb for support. They were glistening with perspiration and half bent from exhaustion.
Something
in me, deep in
side
my subconscious, clued
me
in that they were the ones who’d sent the energy I desperately needed to save Jameson’s life.

The rest were either standing or leaning against the furniture that had finally come to a standstill.

“So?” Jameson asked briskly. “Anyone going to tell me what’s going on?”

Spencer and Dillon, who had become friends over the last few days, stepped forward
.

“Dillon, do you want to cover it?” offered Spencer.

Dillon accepted and went on to explain what had taken place since Jameson had collapsed in Mr. Thibodeaux’s storage closet. In the end, Jameson’s response showed just how resilient he could be.

“Others are at risk now.
The
Vires aren’t going to limit their attacks to just the Caldwells and
the
Weatherfords to get the job done.”

His hand came out
,
and he waved his fingers at Burke, who understood the gesture. A few seconds later, Jameson caught the jeans Burke had dug out of the closet and thrown to him.

While dressing, Jameson stood only
an
arm
’
s length from me, his tight stomach muscles
filling
my entire
line of sight.
Even
though he had
been on death’s doorstep
just
minutes earlier, he looked overwhelmingly powerful
once again
.

I
was
surprised
at my ability to exhibit a convincing demonstration
of will power
by
tilting my head up and
turning
away from
the
view
that was trying to steal my attention
.

“Jameson Bartlett Caldwell,” said his mother, curtly. “You get back in that bed and recuperate.”

“There’s no time,” he replied
,
flatly, drawing up his zipper with emphasis.

She stepped forward, her hands rising to her hips. “Let me make this very clear. You will remain housebound until I say. You will not be going on healing errands. You will not be formulating plans of reprisal. And you
will
get back in that bed.”

“I’m sorry,” he said with sincerity. “I can’t.” He made an attempt to move around her but she stepped in his path, blocking him. “Others are being hurt now. I won’t sit back and let it happen.”

As Mrs. Caldwell stared down her son, I looked to Aunt Lizzy for help, but based on her expression
,
she agreed with Mrs. Caldwell. So did Mr. Caldwell. I, however, did not. Jameson was correct. We needed to do something.

Opening my mouth to voice my opinion, I stopped. A hand
came
down on my shoulder, its message clear. It said, “I’ve got this.”

Looking back, I found it was Charlotte and instinctively stiffened until I heard the words coming from her mouth.

“Mom, it’s not just us in the line of fire. Almost every shop in The Quarter was damaged. Everyone in them suffered a hex. I agree with Jameson. We should do something about it.” Before her mother could respond, she turned to the rest of her siblings and my cousins. “What do you guys think?”

Immediately, the noise level in the room
climbed
several octaves, their voices blending together so that
not on
e of them was distinguishable. But, j
udging
from their nodding heads,
it looked like
they agreed.

“This is not a democracy,” rebutted Mrs. Caldwell, astonished.

Jameson wouldn’t allow the momentum to die out
, however
.
“Mom, whatever Jocelyn did to me, she did it well. I am more than cured. I can handle this.”

She opened her mouth to disagree and then came to a halt. Her eyes narrow
ed and her head tilted forward before s
he
went on to mumble
something that threw every one of us in the room. “Your scar…”

“His what?” asked Mr. Caldwell, moving closer.

“His scar is gone.”

The two of them were staring at him closely now.

“Not gone but…almost,” said Mr. Caldwell, leaning in to see
for himself.

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” said Jameson, irritably. “Jocelyn healed me…
made
me better than I was.”

Mrs. Caldwell
scoffed but clearly he’d broken through her armor of refusal. “What exactly do you plan to do?”

Aunt Lizzy chuckled. “Good question.”

“We need to train, to become strong enough to prevent it from happening again.”

“You’re already in classes at Ms. Veilleux’s school,” reminded Mrs. Caldwell.

“What I’m talking about is
different,” he said, taking
my hand
before
urging
,
“We
need to train together.”

Mr. and Mrs. Caldwell gave him a bewildered
look,
which quickly shifted
in my direction.

Jameson rubbed his forehead briefly and exhaled with frustration. “We – Jocelyn and me – are stronger together. We need to hone it. We weren’t prepared for this assault
,
but we can prepare for the next one.”

“And just how do you expect to do that with Vires watching your every move, dear?” asked Aunt Lizzy.

“We’ll do it at night,” he
answered.
“It’s the only way. We’ll sneak out, somehow, and practice where we can’t be found.”

I glanced from face to face around the room
,
feeling very much like Jameson and I were now alone in this battle.

Then o
ur least likely supporter spoke from her position in the doorway
.

“Think the chil’in are ready?” Miss Mabelle asked this question
out loud
, although it was directed to Miss Celia.

“Ready for what?” asked Burke
,
curious
ly
.

Miss Celia answered in no uncertain terms. “Preparin’ fo’ The Sevens
’
vengeance.”

“And how do
you
play a role in that?” asked Spencer, trying to piece together why our housekeepers
gave
the impression they
were involved too.

The ladies ignored him.

Instead, Miss Mabelle announced, “We begin at midnight.”

“N’ ya’ll be prepared,” warned Miss Celia. “Don’t ya go thinkin’ we’ll be easy on
ya
. Y
a’ll
get no free ride here.”

The snickers behind me indicated that last phrase wasn’t foreign to the Caldwell household.

“I don’t expect one,” I said
,
to which she raised her eyebrows
, obviously thinking I was being insolent.
I disregarded
her reaction
and continued. “But what exactly are we agreeing to?”

Miss Celia and Miss Mabelle looked at each other
,
but it was Miss Mabelle who answered. “
You
, chil’, are gonna finally learn what it takes to be a witch.”

“No lazy incantations.” Miss Celia spat. “No more useless boil hexes.”

“You gonna get a good dose of the real thing,” added Miss Mabelle.

“Uh huh,” muttered Miss Celia in agreement.

“Ain’t no way
ya
kin beat them Sevens with what
ya
been doin’,” Miss Mabelle finished with a sharp nod.

Our housekeepers
exchanged glances,
and Miss Celia furtively reassured, “I’ll make sure he’s ready.”

With that, Miss Mabelle stood to her full height and turned
,
muttering something about getting home because she hadn’t seen her kitchen in days
,
and it could have burnt down for all she knew.

“Why them?” Charlotte asked with a shrug.

“C
uz
it’s they birthright,” called out Miss Celia over her shoulder
,
as she disregarded Charlotte
, turning to follow
behind Miss Mabelle.

Charlotte’s eyes narrowed at me
.
“What exactly is your birthright?”

Words flashed through my mind
, all the words I read in Aunt Lizzy’s study the night I went searching for information on Phillip Turcott, but stumbled across a book on The Relicuum instead.

Prodigy.

Leader.

Savior.

One final word
replayed
in my mind
,
and I had a difficult time shaking it.

Killer.

“I’m a healer,” I declared.

Charlotte chuckled. “Oh, you’re more than that. I’ve never seen a healer cause this type of destruction before.”

“Maybe she’s discovered a new method,” suggested Spencer.

I lifted a finger and tipped it toward him. “I’ll work on fixing that.”

“You should,” he said
,
as a mock reprimand.

“No.” Charlotte shook her head.
Just as I’d suspected,
she was not about to drop the issue. “What you did required…”
S
earching for
the
correct ability
, she
chose, “levitation.
” Narrowing her eyes at me, she
then
pondered
out loud,
“How exactly did you get Jameson here from Mr. Thibodeaux’s shop in the first place?”

In consensus,
Alison stepped forward. “How
did
you get Jameson here?”

“I carried him,” I replied
,
resolutely.

Jameson, sensing my uneasiness, interrupted on my behalf
.
“There you go. Enough said.”

Charlotte
immediately rejecting his easy dismissal
.
“Not quite.
”

That didn’t seem to suffice for Burke either, who also started in. “You’re a strong, healthy girl. No one denies that…but all that way? It’s miles from Thibodeaux’s
,
and
there’s no
car out front.”

The room
became
silent
,
as they waited for my
response.

My cousins stood awkwardly aside
,
as if they were watching a runaway train pass by,
powerless
to stop it.

I wasn’t sure how I looked on the outside
,
but on the inside
,
my mind was racing
and
for a valid reason. I
hadn’t considered
what I
did
until this very moment, until Charlotte
insistently pointed it out.

I
just displayed the ability to heal
,
and now
,
she was pushing me to disclose
my levitation capabilities too.

“And when you said you could hear Jameson…” Alison started in,
raising
the conversation to another level.

“Yes, I can hear him just fine.”

She scoffed, not finding my response funny
.
“You said it when he was still unconscious…”