Savior (31 page)

Jameson returned his focus to me, studying me closely.

“That’s nice to hear,” he observed.

“What is?”

“Your laugh….”

“I didn’t know I had,” I said, demurely.

He replied tenderly, “You did.”

This was the first moment since our birthday that Jameson and I were alone, and would be for several hours. It seemed like we came to that conclusion together as a heated passion rose between us. His chest expanded as he took in a deep enough breath to steady his growing excitement.

“Do you think we’ll make it to the platform?” he asked through an exhale, which I knew was an attempt to control his emotions.

“Not even close to it.”

He laughed coyly, not nervously but light enough that only I could hear it. It was meant explicitly for me, a private reaction that was somehow intensely seductive. “I was thinking the same thing,” he admitted. “What should we do about that?”

I responded with a slight turn of my head toward his shack, which was enough to give him an answer.

He took my hand and led me to his boat, never releasing his firm grip until we reached his dock. After tying the boat to a post, he tenderly lifted me up onto the planks, and led me to his door, pausing to place his hand flat against it. He was ready to move inside but hesitated.

“Jocelyn,” he said, “When we were separated today there was something I couldn’t tell you… something I needed to tell you.”

Again, I felt his urgency, as if we didn’t have much time left together.

“I’m here now,” I said, encouragingly.

“I need you to know that my love for you will never stop.”

I felt my chest tighten; although, it wasn’t because of his endearing declaration. It was because of the dread in his tone, reminding me of his worries from earlier today. “You don’t need to tell me. I already know.”

“I do,” he insisted.

Lending more weight to his words, he tucked his head and stared back at me from beneath the strands of hair falling over his forehead.

“My soul could be gutted from me and still I would love you. If I became a shell of a man, my love for you would live on. If somehow The Sevens detained me and turned me, and I was no longer the person who I am now…my love for you would not end.”

I no longer wanted to hear about the idea of The Sevens getting to him. It upset me. Lifting my fingers to his lips, I halted his confession. The feel of them took my breath away. They were tender and yielding, parted just enough for the warmth of his breath to escape across my fingertips.

“We are in control of our destiny, remember?”

His nodded and his breathing became staggered, filled with passion.

Bringing his hand up, he took hold of mine and lowered it to our side while he rested his other hand on the small of my back. Gently, he firmly commanded my body to surrender to him.

I did, curving into him. As I lifted my face toward him, his breath and his heady scent, caressed my skin, seducing a moan from me, reminding me that I was entirely his.

He looked relieved…content in knowing that I was.

Releasing me just long enough to open the door to his shack, we stepped inside, where we would finish what we had started on the platform far too long ago. I felt like I was walking through a dream that began then and was continuing now, a good one, the kind that you don’t want to wake from. But then the dream disintegrated as we became surrounded by a group of waiting Vires.

18  ABDUCTION

They had come in with the influx, a small enough group – five in all - not to be noticed among the new arrivals, infiltrators who had donned black cloaks to blend in. And they had been successful.

Their silhouettes stood like black posts, an unexpected fence in the middle of Jameson’s shack. The ones behind us slid to the side and closed the circle, their feet making the only sound inside the shack as they scraped across the uneven floorboards.

Despite the cracks in the walls, the commotion outside was muted. Voices were muffled. The rumble of boat motors was subdued. Except for the quaking of the dock caused by the hasty passing of new arrivals outside the door, almost nothing permeated the shack.

My first assumption was that they were part of Commander Fiolka’s group, but that didn’t explain why they were here…in Jameson’s shack…waiting for us.

Regardless, I sensed danger. Jameson had, too, extending his arms behind him in a V-shape and leaving them there.

We could shout, I considered. Someone might hear.

But then anyone who came to our help would be in jeopardy, and I didn’t want to be the cause of it.

Instead, my sarcasm surfaced. “Well, isn’t this cozy.”

The Vires didn’t move or utter a sound, appearing like statues with shoulders back and limbs positioned for defense.

A chuckle came from the darkest part of the room, from behind the Vires. I realized it was near the bed that Jameson and I had been heading for.

“I was told you had a mouth.”

Peregrine stepped into the stream of light that cascaded from the windows of the shack beside us. The faded beams made him looked paler and more intimidating, as if he had risen from the dead.

Jameson inhaled sharply. I didn’t hear it, but I saw it. The abrupt rise of his shoulders sent me a signal that he was just as surprised as I was to see this man - the man whose throat he had slit - now alive and talking.

“Yes,” hissed Peregrine. “I do live."

He allowed this to register, giving us time to come to some understanding of it without offering any explanation. Although I couldn’t.

“But I saw the blood, the…,” I swallowed back the sickening lump in my throat, “…the tendons…exposed.”

Peregrine grinned, his loose cheeks folding over themselves as his lips lifted to reveal grisly, tainted teeth. “One of my many talents. Although I understand you have quite a few yourself. Healing. Levitation. Channeling. Unfortunately, none of them will work for you here, or in any other penal colony for that matter.”

It was an eerie reminder of just how vulnerable we were and why Jameson was so concerned for my safety when the flood of our world’s refugees entered the village.

He had been right.

Peregrine stepped through the circle of Vires, his eyes suddenly set on Jameson.

“I can see you thinking, rationalizing, attempting to find a way out. That’s what you do best, isn’t it, Nobilis? You evaluate, plan, and execute.” Peregrine grinned again, this time much deeper. “We execute, too.”

This, I knew, was a clever play on words. By execute, he didn't mean carrying out actions; he meant murder.

“You can stop evaluating now. There is no escape. You cannot fight us off and you cannot call for help. You are mine.” Peregrine spun around, clasping his hands behind his back, and strolled through the Vires, teasingly weaving in and out of the circle.

“What you don’t understand is that you have always been ours. The prophecy led me here tonight; it has, in fact, been an effective tool in telling me how to defeat you.” Peregrine chortled before continuing with repugnance. “Ridiculous witches…placing those pieces of paper on such a pedestal. You’ve frightened yourselves out of realizing what they truly are. They are instruments, Jameson, to allow one side to gain the upper hand, to give one party the power needed to prevent – or initiate - the war believed to be coming. It’s a very good thing, indeed, that we have the full set.”

Despite this harsh reality that we were at a distinct disadvantage, Jameson made no move, no sound, focusing instead on appraising our grim situation.

“Ironically, with every diversion, every disruption we have made to the records’ predictions, they remain on course, as accurate as can be. Which meant you two would be here, in this particular penal colony…tonight.”

“And an exodus will lead to a failed revolution,” muttered Jameson, to which Peregrine’s face lit up, recognizing it as part of the records.

“Don’t fool yourself. Only
I
know the truth of our future.”

He leaned in toward me, swiftly, tauntingly. “Only I know whether this will be it,” he whispered. “The moment that you take his life, your lover’s life.”

I shivered as goose bumps crawled up my arms.

“Don’t listen to him, Jocelyn.”

I was trying not to, but he was winning.

Peregrine continued, ignoring Jameson. “Such poignant sorrow. Who would have thought The Relicuum and The Nobilis would fall in love? Such is fate…So will you do it, Relicuum? Will you end his life to save the lives of the innocent? To save the world from domination…annihilation? Your family, everyone, are all relying on you, Relicuum. Will you fulfill your destiny tonight?”

He then made an abrupt move…one I never saw coming.

His hand extended and there, at the end, wrapped in his fingers, was a dagger.

He offered it to me, his fingers unfolding one by one, making it easier for me to grab. “Will this be the night The Relicuum brings an end to The Nobilis?” he taunted.

Anger rapidly swelled inside me, the kind that made it difficult not to lash out, to use the weapon in my hand. I wanted to use the weapon on him, to end his toying. But the Vires stood so close, I knew they would use my action to condone taking Jameson’s life – and that would be the fulfillment of Peregrine’s intimation.

He stared back at me, waiting.

I had words for him, ones that would be stringent to the ears but would feel so good being released. But then he would know that he had won, because this was a game to him. He couldn’t care less if I ended Jameson’s life, so long as it ended tonight.

And so I turned my head away from him, letting my silence convey my answer.

After an exaggerated silence, when I was sure my point was made, I turned back and saw a knowing smirk ominously lifting his cheeks.

A game. This was all just a game to him. But he had grown tired of it, causing him to step back, his weary expression fading to annoyance.

“Kill them both. Separate the bodies and leave them here for the Dissidents to find.”

With that, Peregrine headed for the door, utterly confident that his order would be carried out. Pausing, he looked over his shoulder at us.

“You have grit…both of you. Your focus was simply in the wrong direction.”

While I had the feeling he was being intentionally vague, I knew what he meant. Had we used our grit in a more savvy way, jeopardized lives to take his, we may have escaped this fate. They way The Sevens thought sickened me.

The moment the door closed, Jameson made the first move, snaking deftly through and around the men, slicing throats and cracking necks. He was a whirlwind, his arms and the edges of his cloak riding outward with staggering speed and determination. Bodies fell like weighted sacks to the floor, their thumps deafening my ears. I couldn't believe he could move so fast…and with such precision. The sight of it was staggering.

As Jameson he took them on, one came for me, weaving his way through the maelstrom until he was suddenly standing right in front of me, reaching for me. By pure instinct, I twisted across the floorboards, whipping through the air and using the man’s body as leverage. When I stopped, I was behind him and he was slamming into the door. It rattled violently, the top hinges loosening enough that it bent outward, allowing more light into the room. The added illumination allowed me to see Jameson grinning proudly as he swept passed a Vire and headed for another. I didn’t understand it at first. This was no time to be pleased. Then I realized he’d seen me thwart a Vire.

I wasn’t in the clear, though. The Vire came again, and this time he didn’t underestimate me. Prepared for any movement, he followed me to the side, where he shoved me against the wall. The rutted wood dug into my back, sending an explosion of pain through my torso. My breath was frozen in my chest, causing a moan to escape my pinched lips. By then, the Vire had his hand around my neck and I could feel the tips of his fingers squeezing along the back of it, burrowing into my skin.

They were ripped from my neck at the same time I saw Jameson’s face flash behind him. The man was sent flying across the room, his body lifting horizontally from the force and crashing into the wall just below the window.

The glass trembled, sending a long crack snaking down the center. Had it broken it would have drawn attention to our shack, and we might have had a chance.

The two Vires who were preoccupied with Jameson came up behind him and I opened my mouth to scream, my vocal cords stiffening just as Jameson’s hands swung back, a dagger suddenly appearing in each. His fists landed solidly in each Vires abdomen, fixing in place until the bodies began to crumble. At that point, he jerked the blades free and spun to face the room.

No one moved.

We stood to the side, watching for any sign of movement, a rise of the chest or a flinch of a muscle. My eyes, having adjusted to the dark, caught nothing.

I wrapped my arms around his neck then and pulled him close.

“Jameson,” I mumbled. “Theleo-”

“Taught me well,” he agreed. When we settled back to survey the damage he’d done, I realized what an understatement that was.

He bent down, wiping the blood from his daggers on the side of a Vire’s hip and then stood, sliding each weapon into place within his cloak.

It was a second too early.

Just as the daggers dropped into their sheaths, two bodies stirred behind him.

“Jameson!” I called out, but the Vires were already on their feet.

One hooked his forearm around Jameson’s neck while the other took Jameson’s hands and yanked them backwards.

I charged them but it was clumsy and I was easily restrained before causing any serious damage.

“Not much of a challenge, is she?” said one to the other, his nasally Welch accent standing out to me as he adjusted his grip around my shoulders.

The other one replied with a snicker, and an intentionally humiliating statement. “Neither is he.”

The two chuckled as they led us to the door, stopping abruptly just before it.

“This is how we’re going to leave,” informed the one who now held Jameson.