Sacrifice (24 page)

Occasionally, Idris would let slip another clue about Lilith’s return. At one point, she mentioned anointing an altar. At another, she said something about preparing a vessel. Each time she let slip one of these tidbits, Cassie would straighten, focused on soaking up each and every detail Idris managed to spill. Once, Emily—caught up in the mystery—pressed Idris for more details. I could feel Cassie’s fingernails pressing into her palms in her anticipation for more information.

But Idris simply gave Emily a fond smile and answered, “all in due time, child. Our most important task is to be ready when Lilith calls upon us.”

Though I could feel her frustration building, Cassie would fall back in line with the other acolytes. Elyia, present at each of these meetings, never gave any indication to Cassie that she was more than a simple attendant for Idris. And so, week after week, Cassie would attend a meeting where we might glean another tiny fragment of the puzzle—without ever being able to fully see the bigger picture.

As May came to a close, we were no closer to uncovering the location of the temple despite Ian’s careful mapping of each underground feature in the surrounding 100 miles. It felt like treading water while hoping to catch sight of land on the distant horizon—hopeless, and yet it was our only option. The alternative meant sinking into fatal despair.

I came home after practice one afternoon to find Dad wolfing down a sandwich at the dining room table. I gave him a wave and shrugged out of my jacket, hoping to decompress upstairs for a few minutes before starting my homework.

“Hey,” he mumbled around a mouthful of food. “Hold up.”

“Sure.” I joined him in the dining room, waiting for him to swallow.

“I’m taking part of another Guardsman’s shift at the mission tonight.”

“You are?” I sighed. “So I guess this means you can’t run flashcards with me after dinner?”

“AP History test?”

I nodded, glum.

“Sorry, kiddo. Why don’t you see if Karayan can help you out?” Dad pulled his wallet out of his pockets. “Also, I meant to hit the grocery store today. I’ll spare you the gory details—the long and the short of it is unless you want a mayonnaise-and-peanut-butter sandwich, you’ll have to fend for yourself come dinnertime.” He handed over a few bills. “Maybe order a pizza?”

“Hm. I might be able to make that work.” I took the money and shoved it into my pocket, cheered. Pizza would make studying go down a little easier.

Dad’s eyes twinkled. “Glad to see you making the best of a bad situation.”

“So how long is this shift supposed to be?” I asked.

“I’m not sure, but it could be a long one. Don’t wait up for me.” Dad shoved the last bite of sandwich into his mouth and stood. He washed the bite down with some water, then flashed me a smile. “I’m proud of you for studying, given everything else you’ve got on your plate.” He planted a tender kiss on the top of my head.

As he started to withdraw, I grabbed hold of him in a tight bear hug. “Thanks, Dad.”

Dad’s arm curled around my shoulders and he gave me a squeeze. “I am sorry about the timing. I was kind of looking forward to the history refresher.”

I pulled back and grinned up at him. “Don’t worry, there’s still three days before the test. Plenty of time to brush up on all things American Revolution.”

“Well, thank heaven for small mercies.” Dad pulled his jacket on and ran a hand through his hair. “Okay.” He opened the door and headed into the evening, pausing at the edge of the porch to wave goodbye. “Don’t study too hard.”

I waved goodbye and watched as he got into his car and pulled away. I closed the door and sighed. It was after 5:00, and I was already feeling hungry.

“Hey, Karayan!” I walked down the hall toward her room. “I’m getting pizza for dinner, you want in? Karayan?”

Karayan opened the door to her room before I had a chance to knock. She glanced down the hall behind me, then smoothed the front of her shirt. “I’m good.”

“Okay.” I shrugged and then, sheepishly, asked, “I don’t suppose you’d be interested in running through some flashcards with me?”

“Flashcards?” Karayan looked at me, but I could tell her attention was somewhere else.

“You know, key word on one side, list of facts on the other... I’m studying for a history test.”

“Oh. Oh.” Karayan shook her head, as if coming back to the present. “Actually, Braedyn, would it be possible for you to study upstairs tonight?”

“Uh, yeah, that’s possible.” I eyed Karayan, suddenly suspicious.

Karayan noticed my look and shrugged. “Today’s been a rough day for Hale, I figured he could use some company.”

“When you say ‘rough’—?”

“It’s the anniversary of his wife’s death.” Karayan gave me a level stare, but a hint of red rose in her cheeks.

“Uh huh.” I crossed my arms.

Karayan’s lips tightened. “Don’t. This is not an international incident. I’m doing something nice for him. As a friend.”

“And you think this is a good idea?”

“If you’re worried I’ll lose control and go all smoochy on him, relax.” Karayan shrugged humorlessly. “You’ll be right upstairs. That kind of puts a damper on the amorous stuff.”

“Does Dad know about this?”

“You’d have to ask him.”

“So, in other words, no.”

The doorbell rang and Karayan’s eyes lit up for a moment. Her expression was unguarded, and in that moment I saw a hope in her eyes, so strong it was painful. She noticed me watching and cleared her throat, trying for nonchalance. “That’s him. You can either play chaperone, or give me the benefit of the doubt and take the academic road show upstairs.”

I pulled the cash out of my pocket. “You’ll call me when the pizza gets here?”

Karayan’s expression eased. “I’ll hand deliver it to you myself.” She held out her hand and I pushed the cash into it. “Have fun.”

“You do realize I’m studying for
history?
”

Karayan made a little “shoo” gesture at me. I headed for the staircase. Karayan opened the door as I reached the top step.

I turned, catching sight of something in Karayan’s hand—a bottle of a rich amber-colored liquid. Hale entered, and even from the top of the stairs I could see the solemn look on his face.

“I got your note,” he said. “You needed to see me?”

Karayan hefted the bottle. Hale’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Scotch?”

“Not just any scotch,” Karayan said, smiling. Hale took the bottle out of her hands and let out a sharp breath.

“You’re not kidding.” He perused the bottle, murmuring in approval. “Single malt, 21 years old… this is—”

“Yours.”

Hale looked up, startled. “What’s the occasion?”

Karayan shrugged, looking caught. “You seem a little down. I figured, maybe you could use something to take the edge off.”

Hale looked down at the bottle in his hands. After a moment, he looked up again. “Care to join me?”

Karayan beamed. “I’ll grab some glasses.” She turned to head back to the kitchen, glancing up to where I stood at the top of the stairs. Her eyes caught on me and she gave them a little roll, as if to say,
Seriously, mom? We’ll be fine.

I glanced back at Hale. He was still examining the bottle in his hands, but he wore a distant expression of such deep sadness my heart wrenched in my chest. I slipped down the hall to my room, closing the door behind me softly. Maybe Karayan actually knew what she was doing after all.

I was reviewing the Intolerable Acts of 1774 when I heard a splintering crash downstairs.

Sprinting down the hallway, I froze on the top stair at what sounded like Hale…
giggling.

I edged down the staircase, peering into the living room. Hale and Karayan were flat on their backs on the living room floor, next to the remains of what had been one of the side-tables flanking our couch.

“What happened?” I rushed into the room, horrified. Hale and Karayan traded a guilty look with one another, and then burst into another fit of giggles. “You—you’re drunk?!”

“Drunk is a strong word.” Hale pushed himself to his feet then swayed unsteadily. “Though not entirely inaccurate.”

I glared at Karayan. “Seriously?!”

“Don’t be mad at her,” Hale said. “Karayan was just being a friend.”

“A friend in need,” Karayan said.

“Indeed,” Hale replied. Karayan giggled again. He offered Karayan a hand. She took it and let Hale help her to her feet.

“I didn’t want you to have to spend the evening alone with your grief.”

Hale glanced at Karayan. She blushed prettily, caught. Then her eyes shifted to the floor. “Looks like we made a bit of a mess, Hale.”

I stared at the living room. Most of the furniture had been pushed to the edges of the room, leaving a large empty space in the center. “What the hell were you even doing in here?”

“Hale wanted a rematch,” Karayan shrugged, grinning.

“I will admit to having been taken a little bit by surprise the first time I sparred with Ms. Karayan. We decided to figure out whether that first time was a fluke.” Hale gave me a serious look that was completely undermined when he hiccupped tipsily.

“It wasn’t a fluke.” Karayan grinned at Hale. He held up a finger.

“The jury’s still out.”

“You want another rematch, pretty boy?”

Hale smiled. “You think I’m pretty?”

Karayan giggled again.

I threw my hands up in the air, exasperated. “We have to get this mess cleaned up before my dad gets home.”

Hale glanced around. “Hm. We’re going to need some glue.”

“Glue isn’t going to solve this.” I sighed. So much for the Intolerable Acts of 1774. It looked like the rest of my night would be devoted to the intolerable acts of Hale and Karayan. “Just go sit down.” I pushed Hale toward the dining room. “And someone put some coffee on.”

I had just started to collect the shattered bits of our ex-side-table when I heard Hale and Karayan snickering again. I looked up, and saw Hale had Karayan in a headlock.

“Okay,” she said, “but remember you asked for this.”

She shifted her weight—and the front door opened.

Dad entered just as Karayan launched Hale over her shoulder and sent him sprawling across the foyer.

Dad crashed back into the wall in surprise as Hale skidded toward his feet. “What the hell—?”

“Oh!” Karayan rushed forward to help Hale up. “I thought you’d resist a little!”

Hale grinned sheepishly. “It’s okay, Murphy. We were just doing a little sparring.”

Dad’s eyes moved from Hale to Karayan. His jaw clenched. Then his eyes shifted to the living room, and the devastation I had just barely started to clean up. He caught my eye. “Stand up.”

Shakily, I got to my feet. Dad approached and leaned close, taking a deep breath. My eyes flew open in horror. “You think I was drinking, too?”

Dad stepped back quickly. “No. No, of course not, kiddo.” There was a tension lining his eyes that put me on alert.

“Dad?”

“There was—an attack at the mission.”

Hale and Karayan straightened, alarmed.

“What kind of attack?” Hale’s tipsy demeanor changed instantly, the news doing more to sober him than a gallon of coffee would have.

“An explosion.”

“Oh, God—was anyone hurt?” I grabbed Dad’s arm, searching his face. “Are you okay?”

“We were incredibly fortunate,” Dad said. “Though I can’t say the same thing for the mission itself. Someone set charges on up on the roof. Most of the sanctuary’s ceiling is gone. Mercifully, the majority of Guardsmen were on rounds. Those in the sanctuary had taken up stations beneath the balcony. One of the spotters, Jane, was knocked out by the blast, but a Guardsman dragged her out of the mission and revived her.”

“Who?” Hale’s eyes were solemn.

“Your guess is as good as mine.” Dad ran a hand through his hair. “The bigger question for me is why? Why the roof? If they’d meant to hurt us, why not toss the charges in through the windows?”

“Maybe whoever did this hoped the whole building would come down on our heads,” Hale mused.

“Maybe you should start posting Guardsmen on the roof,” Karayan said.

Dad gave her a tight smile. His gaze flicked between Hale and Karayan, then he squeezed my shoulder lightly. “Why don’t you go on up to your room.”