Birthright (Residue Series #2) (46 page)

As the distance grew between us, my body flailed harder, fighting to get to Jameson. But the Vires were too big, too well trained
,
and they restrained me as if I were no more challenging than an infant. I had no leverage, with one exception.

It had been a last minute idea from Jameson, which might very well save our lives tonight. His level head in times of crises was an amazing quality
, and
I couldn’t have appreciated
it
more at this very moment.
It
was risky. I was told never to let anyone know I had it
,
until I was ready to use it
, and
unfortunately, it hadn’t come with a training manual.

“I’ll make you a trade,” I screamed at Sartorius, my eyes flitting between him and the mound of Vires on top of Jameson.

“I’m not interested in trades.”

“You are in this one,” I said in a rush. “Trust me.”

He scoffed. “You have a heightened sense of self-worth, Jocelyn.”

I ignored his insult. What worried me instead was that he didn’t believe me. “You’ve been looking for this object since the fourth century.”

I saw a flicker in his eyes
,
as understanding transpired.

One more glance in Jameson’s direction and I became desperate. He would either be crushed or removed from the pile and killed some other way.
Looking over
at the holding cells reinforced Sartorius’s intention to murder my loved ones and innocent neighbors, too.

I would never be more ready than right now
to use this object
.

Driving
home my point
and summing
up exactly what I had in my possession
,
that might
possibly
save the lives of everyone around me tonight, I asked, “Would The Rope of The Sevens be enticing enough for you?”

I watched
then
as Sartorius’s eyes turned hungry.

“Release Jameson and the prisoners,” I demanded. “Our housekeepers included.”

Sartorius chuckled blithely at me. “You haven’t done this before, have you?” he asked, voicing my biggest insecurity at the moment. “Let me explain. You
don’t
secure payment from a buyer without proof.” He drew out this last word in an insultingly slow manner.

“It’s the length of…” I motioned to its exact length. “It is a bundle of assorted hair strands from seven individuals and it is wrapped with seven pieces of skin. And it smells like sweaty feet. How would I know that, Sartorius, unless I have it in my possession?”

I waited for his answer, knowing it would be hard to devise
.

“There are no pictures of it, are there?” I insisted. “No one bothered to draw it back in the fourth century before it was stolen.” I waited for a reaction
, but
began speaking again when I saw the muscle above his lip
twitch
.
“I figure that was a security measure so that no one could create a counterfeit.”

“Oh, but they have attempted to throughout the years,” he assured me. It felt as if he was trying to put me in my place. “How do I know you don’t possess one yourself?”

“You don’t,” I claimed. “You don’t
,
but you will never see it again if you don’t release everyone. It’s your call, Sartorius.”

He hesitated for a
n exaggerated moment before
, very conscientiously, nodd
ing
to the Vires surrounding Jameson. The second he was free, Jameson was at my side, his
stomach
bleeding in several places. I placed my hand on his abdomen, feeling the curve of his muscles and rapidly whisper
ing
my healing incantation.

Sartorius returned his gaze to me after giving the order, languidly watching and attempting to feign interest in my trade.

“The prisoners,” I said, reinforcing my terms.

Releasing
Jameson must have seemed like an equitable exchange
, because it would be much easier to apprehend one person
.
However, capturing
the rest of the prisoners
,
once released
,
would be an entirely different and much broader challenge, so Sartorius was less inclined.

“The prisoners, Sartorius,” I stated again. “Or you’ll never see your prized rope again.”

After the briefest pause, Sartorius lifted his hand and motioned to a squad of Vires who shuffled forward quickly
, unlatching
the cell doors.
Our
families blindly spilled out alongside our neighbors, using their hands to find their way in the dark
. The
Vires
instantly
surrounded them
, apparently
given the order to restrain the prisoners once freed.

Sartorius’s attention returned to me
then
,
his intolerance clearly building. “The
Rope,”
Sartorius demanded
,
and I turned back to him.

When I hesitated, he stepped forward, closing the gap between us. “What you experienced in the hotel room may have given you a false sense of security. The forces protecting me, or rather those who failed in that endeavor, suffered from the same ailment.
Even though
I eliminated them, you possess what I want and that grants you a reprieve.” He was threatening me but his next words
were
aimed at someone I love
and
chilled me to my core. “Your mother is an asset to us
, but
as with all assets, a time will come when she will no longer be valued.” He paused
, narrowing
his eyes at me. “I urge you not to hasten that time.”

The memory of the first messengers, the sisters who had been so valuable to The Sevens, and their fate
,
hit me hard. Coldness ran up my spine as I imagined my mother’s body being bagged, dumped on a curb, and left there to rot.

The delivery of Sartorius’s message riveted me. His tone, being more ominous and convincing than
anyone
I’d ever heard before in my life
. The sound of his voice
would never leave my memory.
The
underlying meaning embedded within his message was unavoidably explicit to me: The Sevens were keeping my mother around
to torture
me. It was the very purpose I warned her about
, but
it had done nothing to sway her
in
to leav
ing.

I had never been angrier than I was
right
now. I was the purpose my mother was there; I was the purpose she was in danger; I was the purpose she would be executed.

Jameson, intending to offer support, slipped his hand into mine
,
and I appreciated it.

“And if your mother’s safety isn’t compelling enough,” Sartorius was saying
,
as he strolled toward me. “Let me explain how a healer dies. I’ve had some experience with it.” The moment he came within arm’s length of me, his hand swiftly slipped inside his jacket and withdrew a dagger.

Before any of us could react, the
cold steel tip came to rest at my neck, pressing firmly enough to cause a deep indent without breaking the skin
.

Jameson released my hand and swung around to flank Sartorius and me. Theleo met him on the opposite side so that we now
formed
a small huddle, both sides positioning themselves for a strategic advantage.

Sartorius didn’t appear to notice the movement. He had his attention pinned on me.

“A healer comes bestowed with the gift to heal
themselves.
But he or she is not invincible. Two precise and deftly administered techniques will end the life of a healer. A removal of the head…” He pressed the dagger
farther
in, nearly cutting off my circulation. Jameson shifted to strike
,
but I placed my hand on him
. The
solid, readied muscles of his forearm confirming that I
acted
just in time.

“He won’t hurt me,” I channeled. “He wants
The Rope.”

Still, Jameson didn’t relax as my hand dropped to my side, but
then,
I didn’t
really
expect him to.

“And the other,” Sartorius was continuing on, either oblivious or unconcerned about my warning to Jameson, “is to pierce the heart.”

He dragged the tip of the dagger downward to settle it directly over
t
his alternate choice. Here he pressed
even
harder
, and it felt
as if he were leaning against the bone that protected
my heart,
sending a sharp ache through
the
area.
I ached, silently and still,
for fear Jameson wouldn’t be able to control the rage I saw boiling beneath the surface.

“Both options end the blood flow permanently,” Sartorius explained. “There is no recovery
,
because there is no time for your healing capacity to be set in motion. I have used both techniques
,
but I prefer the heart.”
As the
point of his dagger carved into my chest
,
I
knew
it had broken the skin and drawn blood. This time, I winced.

“That’s enough, Sartorius,” Jameson growled.

“Then you’ll be giving me the rope, I assume.”

I had been biding my time, trying to give Jameson and me a chance to figure out an escape plan
,
but my mind had gone blank, the fear of my mother’s security and the imminent physical threat by Sartorius
was
now taking up a large part of my thought process.

Unable to delay any longer
,
and
considering
the cold stare Sartorius was giving me, I figured there would be no better time than now.

When I opened the pouch on my belt
, pulling out The Rope,
Sartorius snickered
,
disdainfully
,
under his breath.

Jameson, knowing Sartorius had been surprised to find I was carrying the rope, brushed his hand across my elbow to channel to me. It was a whisper
,
delivered with a tone of respect. “Well played.”

“I presume you wish me to keep this a secret?” Theleo asked, hinting at how well he knew Sartorius.

Sartorius confirmed with a nod, the excitement overwhelming him to the point of speechlessness. His mouth had grown taut and the muscles in his jaw tightened
,
as his breathing grew more shallow and rapid. Sartorius was excited.

The
Rope
had been intended to maintain balance, honesty between him and his fellow Sevens. If one were to act in a manner
threatening to
any other Seven, it could be used against him or her. But if Sartorius had possession of it
,
and none of the other Sevens knew, it gave him an advantage far beyond anything
anyone
could ever imagine
.
It was immediately obvious
that
this was Sartorius’s intention
.

It highlighted one other notion. The Sevens had a traitor in their midst
,
and if one of them showed signs of noncompliance
,
it was likely there were others. This bode well for us. Dissension in the highest ranks gave us an advantage.

“Give it to me,” said Sartorius
,
but I hesitated.

This was our leverage. It was the only thing keeping us safe. I had been told not to use it until I was prepared to, but if giving up
The Rope
meant saving all our lives tonight then I
could never be
more ready.

The rope hung thick and sturdy in my hand as I delivered it to him.

His long, spindly fingers wrapped around it eagerly, gripping it with such strength it didn’t seem like anything or anyone
would be able to
pry it from him again.

Spinning on his heel, Sartorius prepared to leave
,
as he commanded blithely, “Separate the girl and the boy. Kill the rest.”

At that moment, the encampment turned into
absolute
pandemonium
.