Protecting Truth (18 page)

::29::
One Kiss

Heartbreak. I actually hear my heart break. It shakes and crushes into a thousand little pieces that seep out of my body. They float away into the air, extinguishing into nothing. I feel nothing; I am nothing.

Sam wraps her arm around my back, helping me to stand. She enlists someone else to help. I hear the exchange, but it doesn’t completely register. I don’t even bother to see who it is, or care to recognize the voice. I want to disappear into my sadness, allow my body to fold up into nothing. Bishop knows.
He saw me kiss Turner through Sam’s mind. What have I done?

•

When I begin to come to my senses, I realize we’re on the catwalk of the ballroom, sitting on a bench, looking down at the gala. People are twirling and dancing to music I don’t hear.

“Sera, can you hear me?” A sad voice breaks through.

I tilt my head listlessly; my eyes land on Sam.

“Pay attention if you can,” she says. “I have a lot to tell you, and I’m sorry it has to be now.”

My brows furrow. There’s not much life in me.

“Look around, do you see everyone dancing down there?” Sam asks and gestures toward the crowd. I sluggishly turn my head in the direction of the fun. “Do you see Macey, Quinn, and Xavier?”

I nod.

“Now, do you see Jessica and Stu? Or Agnes and Atticus? Do you notice anything they have in common?”

“No,” I whimper.

“They’re dating…they’re in love.”

“So?”

“Think about it. They’re all in teams. Remember the connection we had when we first met? For me, I knew you were my family, and I’d never even met you before. In my heart, I knew you belonged to me,” Sam explains.

“Yes, I remember the feeling,” I mumble.

“Now think of Bishop. The first time you saw him, how you felt—that attraction, an unreasonable attraction beyond teenage hormones. You wanted him even though you had no idea who he was.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying, Sera, that it doesn’t matter that you kissed Turner. Bishop will forgive you. He doesn’t have a choice. He
has
to love you.”

“What?” I sit up a little.

“I’m saying, we as a team of Wanderers, Seers, and Protectors are genetically predisposed to love one another. We are our own best matches, soul mates.”

“You’re saying I don’t have a choice who I love?”

“Well, actually,
you
have a choice. Unlike others, you have a very unique choice—one that was never given to you. You had a choice to love one of two people, a choice most of us don’t get. And the choice was stolen from you.”

“Sam, you’re not making any sense.”

“You have two Protectors, Sera. Or you did before you came to the Academy.”

It clicks immediately. Turner doesn’t have a team. “I suppose you could say it just didn’t work out,” he said when I asked him about them. I assumed that meant they didn’t take the oaths and decided to live as Normals.

“How?”

“Twins, Sera. Both meant for you. Only one can have your love. Only one can be our Protector.”

“Who—who decided for me?”

She clears her throat. “I promised I would never tell, but I can’t stand to see you like this. It’s not fair, and you deserve to know.” She grabs my hand and tightens her fingers around mine. “The moment Bishop saved you from the gang in the metro last year, the moment you talked to him in the Academy courtyard, it was decided for you. Bishop kinda—cheated.”

“Cheated?”

“He and Turner were told to wait, not to reveal themselves to you. Terease was to administer some kind of test to see who you gravitated toward. The one you chose would have been our Protector, the one you would love forever. And I’m starting to think, it may not have been Bishop.” She frowns.

“What about you, how come you didn’t choose?”

“I was too young at the time. I didn’t connect with either in that romantic way. I only saw them as my brothers, equally suited for the job, and I still do, because they’re both in love with you. My match will be made with an odd member of another team.”

I let it sink in, remembering every instance Bishop popped up when I moved to Chicago, every strange emotion I felt when I was compelled to be near him, stare at him, talk to him. I never thought I didn’t have a choice. Why didn’t I question how irrational everything was?

“He sent me his photograph,” I say.

“What?”

“Before I moved here, when my wandering abilities started appearing in Miami, I received an envelope. It had Bishop’s photo in it. It must have been him, trying to seal his own fate.” I glance at her.

Sam’s expression reflects her horror. “I—I can’t believe it.” She frowns with obvious disappointment.

“Me neither.” I’m sad. I’m mad. I’m confused. If I were feeling more like myself, I’d want to lash out, make someone pay. Not for taking away my choice between two boys, but for taking away my choice, period. I was delusional to think that my relationship with Bishop was pure, untouched by the laws of Wandering. Nothing seems immune.

“There’s more.” She clears her throat.

“Please, no. This is bad enough.” I sink back and hug my stomach, holding myself together. I might split apart at the seams if I let go.

“We have to leave for me to explain. You’ll have to see it for yourself.”

::30::
An Arrangement

Sam and I leave the gala. She drags me through the empty corridors to our apartment. I’m apprehensive. “Is Bishop here?” I’m not ready to see him. I don’t even know what I’ll say to him, how to feel.

“No, don’t worry.”

She walks into my bedroom and heads for the closet. She pulls out the first outfit she sees—the one hanging on the door—and throws it at me. “You’ll need to change. You’re going to wander.”

“In this?” I look at the outfit, the one I saw myself wearing in London that day, weeks ago.

“It’s as good as anything else.” She shrugs.

She doesn’t know the significance of the outfit. I sigh. Sam leaves my room as I change. I shimmy out of my costume, letting everything fall to the floor. I step into a pair of gray leggings, a skirt, t-shirt, and suede jacket.

On my desk sits my oath package. I unlock it, lift the top, and remove my new phone. I shove it in my pocket when Sam returns with a relic.

“Here.” She drops a set of keys into my palm.

“These are Bishop’s house keys.” I turn them over, considering why she’d want me to wander with them.

“You must go there to see, and you have to leave now, before anyone finds out what I’ve done.”

“Just tell me, please.”

“Trust me, Sera. If I had known what I know now, I would have told you so much sooner. You need to see it for yourself.”

“Fine.”

We climb out Sam’s window and down the leafy vines that wind around the walls of the Academy’s facade. Society soldiers dressed in plain clothes stand at the entrance, but they seem more worried about who wants to come in, rather than which students are sneaking out.

There’s a crisp autumn chill in the air. I pull my jacket closed as Sam and I make our way to the center of the courtyard, next to the obelisk. Only the city continues to move. Taxis and cars fly past the nearest streets. All the others in the school, including the teachers, are still enjoying the festivities.

“Do you have the relic?”

“Yes.” I hold up Bishop’s keys.

“You’ll repeat this as your keyword to travel to London: ‘August, twenty-five, this year, three o’clock.’”

She’s just confirmed what I know is coming, I’m going to London, the day I visited Bishop over summer vacation. I nod, a little sad for the tears I know are coming. There’s a good possibility my life will get worse, but how, I can’t even comprehend.

“August, twenty-five, this year, three o’clock.” I say the keywords out loud and grasp the keys. Then I say the phrase in my mind, letting the numbers swirl through my head, injecting them into my soul. I bolt, leaving Sam behind as I run across the courtyard, feet pounding the grass. I pump my arms, pushing them farther, until I hear the familiar rumble. The ground shakes, buildings crack in half, grass rips, the city rolls up into the sky behind me like a carpet, blocking the twinkling stars and the breeze off Lake Michigan. The land finally races down from the sky and slams me into a time-traveling wormhole.

I launch feet first into inky nothingness. Colors of the night swirl and ripple, increasing into light. My feet land on firm ground in a running stop. Cobblestone streets wrap around a neighborhood of Victorian homes and flats. This is Chelsea, London. Bishop’s home stands fifty feet away. With shaky determination, I walk to the front door.

Instead of using the keys, I knock on the door. If Bishop answers, he’ll have no knowledge that I’ve betrayed him to Turner yet. Where I am in time now is weeks before that event ever takes place. I relax my shoulders and try not to appear guilty, not to appear as though I know our love has been tainted.

The door creaks open. Thirteen-year-old Charlotte, Bishop and Turner’s little sister, stands at the door. Her face, fresh with youth, sparkles pretty as a peach. Her strawberry-blonde hair hangs to her shoulders, and her eyes shine with recognition, even though I have never met her before.

“Sera!” She giggles with delight and pulls me into a hug. “However did you get here?” She squeals and drags me down the hall. Bishop told me that she’s a Normal and so far she hasn’t shown signs of becoming a Wanderer. She doesn’t know how lucky she is.

“Oh, I was just in the neighborhood.” I make a joke. It’s the easiest way.

“Mum,” she calls. “You aren’t going to believe who’s here!” She drags me into the main living area.

“Who, darling?”

I stop in my tracks when I see Aunt Mona standing at the kitchen counter, cutting carrots. Mona looks up, her face draining of blood as her eyes meet mine, and she slices her finger with the knife. Apparently she’s as surprised as I am. I spin around, looking for anyone else in the room, but there’s only Mona.

“Oh, blast!” She holds up one finger, beginning to drip blood, and sticks it in her mouth.

“Mum, are you all right?” Charlotte runs to her aid.

“Yes, but why don’t you run and fetch me a plaster from the medical,” she says in an unfamiliar British accent.

Charlotte runs off on her errand. I’m thankful she doesn’t see my face as she leaves.

When the sound of her steps disappear up the stairs, I turn to Mona and hiss, “What the hell is going on, Mona? Why is Charlotte calling you ‘Mom’?” A tear escapes.

Mona frantically sweeps forward, ready to gather me into a hug. Is she really going to try to console me? I lunge away from her, too angry to let her touch me. I back up to a nearby wall, to keep a safe distance.

“Sera, oh, I knew this day would come, but I didn’t know it would be here so quickly. Who told you? How did you know?”

“I didn’t.” My lips tremble. Somehow Sam knew. She wanted me to see. Mona is Bishop and Turner’s mom.

“How? Please tell me Bishop is not my cousin,” I blurt, gripping my stomach to hold in the disgust that roils there.

“No, of course not!” She takes off her apron and tosses it on the counter. She sighs and holds her hand to her head, massaging the skin as though she has a headache.

Charlotte returns. “Here ya go.” She hands Mona a bandage and lingers nearby.

“Love,” Mona says to Charlotte, “I’d like very much to talk with Sera, alone. Do you think you could leave for a bit?”

“But—but—that’s not fair,” she whines. “I want to talk with her too. I want to hear about the States.” She pouts and crosses her arms.

“How about we ask Sera to stay for dinner and you can question her to death then?” She runs a hand through the girl’s hair and pinches her chin lovingly.

“All right,” Charlotte concedes and runs off, up the stairs.

Mona sighs and turns her gaze back to me. “Sorry, she’s wanted nothing more than to meet you with Bishop talking about you all the time, showing her pictures of you. I think she’s a little jealous of the boys going to the Academy in the States.” She gives me a strained smile.

I don’t even know how to look at Mona, what to say, what to do. I want to run away and never see her face again. I want to lash out and make her hurt as much as I do. But all I can do is stand here, too stunned to react.

“Why don’t we sit?” Mona gestures to the sofa and chair. This house is different, not decorated in the usual eclectic Mona way. It’s Normal. I waver, unsure about what to do. Stay or go? Cry or fight?

Mona slips past and sits. I stay put, plastered against the wall, still undecided on how to react.

“As a mother, I had to make a difficult decision a very long time ago,” she starts, staring out the window. “The boys weren’t even born yet, but I knew I was having twins. I kept it a secret for as long as I could, hoping there would be some way to save both of them.” She looks over, her eyes wavering. Her hands twist in her lap, the way they always do when she’s nervous. “So, when the Society came for my babies, for one of them, I made a deal.”

“What—what do you mean, ‘came for one of them’?” I ask, voice trembling.

“Twins, Sera, are not sanctioned by Society laws. One must die to ensure the seamless life of a Wanderer for the other. Two Protectors on one team cannot exist without consequences.”

“They’d kill one of them?”

“Yes.”

“That’s ridiculous! How would they even know as babies that they’d turn? They could have been Normal!”

“True, but the Society doesn’t function under possible unknowns. They like everything very neatly tied up. And it’s been this way for thousands of years.”

I can’t even fathom that what she’s saying is real. Who could kill a baby?

“What was the deal you made to save them?” I croak. I don’t even want to know what awful thing they’d force her do to save her children. After the last hour, I hate everything about the Society.

“At the time, I told them I’d do anything. They agreed to spare the twins but told me they would come back when they needed help. And whenever and whatever that was, I could not refuse.

“Naturally, I was scared of what they would want. The thought terrified me for months. I hoped it would be years before they came back, but the boys were very young when the Society returned. Your mother had just passed away, and the only thing they requested was that I play the part of your aunt.”

I want to say, “Mom didn’t die, Mona,” but I keep the truth hidden. At this moment, I don’t trust anyone anymore. Everything that I’ve forced myself to believe all of my life is crumbling into nothing.

Mona continues. “Back then, it seemed such a simple request for saving one of my boys. With your father being a Normal, the Society simply wanted me to watch over you on occasion. I did it without hesitation, never considering that it might somehow hurt you. Acting as your aunt was an easy transition because your mom had always introduced me as her sister. She’d even introduced me as her sister to your father long ago. It was the easiest way to explain our close relationship to the Normals. You see—your mom was my Wanderer.”

“
Your
Wanderer? You told me a girl named Ann was your wanderer!”

“Yes,
Eliza
Ann.”

Ann
—my mom’s middle name. Mona had told me as much as she could without giving too much away.

“There’s so much more that I can’t even tell you. I’m so sorry I deceived you, Sera.” Mona glances at me, tears in her eyes. Her mouth pulls into a frown. “Nothing’s changed. I still love you as though you’re one of my own children.” She stands and reaches for me.

I step away, just out of her reach. I want to believe her, but right now I can’t believe anyone.

The front door unlocks, creaking open. I turn to see who’s come home. Bishop’s dad, maybe? Mona’s husband? I can’t even imagine who it’ll be next.