Trembling
Part One
"O! Beware, my lord, of jealousy,
It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock
The meat it feeds on."
-William Shakespeare, Othello
Chapter One
michaela666 (01:34:22): Is it done?
aird92 (01:35:01): yep. success. it's all good.
michaela666 (1:35:24): And it went well? No snags? No interference from Jason?
aird92 (01:36:12): dude's damned clueless, r u kidding? went perfect.
michaela666 (01:36:54): You're sure? They shouldn't be underestimated, you
know. The two of them together are quite powerful.
aird92 (01:37:17): i know this, ok? stop worrying. everything's fine.
My brain felt like it had exploded while I was
sleeping and the pieces of brain matter were straining against my temples,
trying to get out. My head hurt.
I squeezed my eyes shut against the bright
Tentatively, I opened one eye. The room was blazingly bright. I closed my eye
again. Maybe it was better to keep my eyes closed.
Wait.
I opened my eyes again.
Where was I?
Jason's room? Jason's bed? Why was I in Jason's bed?
How had I gotten here?
Damn it. I didn't remember going to sleep. I must have been really drunk when I
went to sleep. Blackout drunk. I didn't think I'd ever been blackout drunk
before. What did I
remember from the night before?
A loud voice sliced into my temple. "I don't how many times I've told you
that you two are not supposed to sleep in the same bed!"
That was why I had woken up. Hallam was yelling at Jason. Ugh. I pulled a
pillow over my head, but I could still hear them.
"Jesus, Hallam, I carried her to her own bed, but she crawled in here with
me," Jason was saying. "I couldn't get her to go back. Nothing
happened. She was way too drunk."
I was? I didn't remember any of that at all.
Jason was my boyfriend. He and I lived with Hallam, who was our legal guardian.
Hallam was pretty cool most of the time. He didn't have any problem with my
going out and getting wasted or coming home at four in the morning. But he was
insistent that Jason and I did not sleep in the same bed. He said he didn't
want us to conceive our firstborn on his watch. But that was silly, because
when Jason and I actually did get to have sex (which was rarely), we were careful.
Really, Hallam was just a prude, and that was all there was to it.
"I don't want to hear excuses, Jason," Hallam said. "You two
know the rules. You both agreed to them."
It was amazing how, in just a few short months, Hallam had begun to sound
remarkably like a parent. He was only twenty-two, just five years older than
Jason and me. But he sounded fifty.
"You're blatantly disobeying," Hallam went on.
"What was I supposed to do?" Jason demanded. "She could barely
stand, she was so wasted."
Really? That wasn't good. Okay, okay. What had I done last night?
Um, I'd gone to a party on the beach with Jude and some of the other guys from
work. I worked at a movie theater here in
And then, nothing.
God.
That was terrifying.
"She's been drunk a lot lately, hasn't she?" asked Hallam.
"She's seventeen," Jason said. "It's what young people do!"
Jason was seventeen too, but when he said that, it sounded like he was so much
older than me. In some ways, maybe Jason was. He'd been through a lot in his
young life. Jason had spent his childhood on the run from men with guns, who
were trying to kill him. He'd held his mentor Anton in his arms while Anton
bled to death. Jason had shot five men in the head point blank to save me from
getting killed. It made sense that Jason would seem older than me.
But.
"You're seventeen too," Hallam pointed out. "You're not getting
fall-down drunk."
Why was Jason so much more responsible than I was? After all, while it was true
that Jason had been through a lot, the last six months of my life had been no
picnic either. I'd found out that my entire town was controlled by a Satanist
coven who wanted me to kill Jason. Then I'd seen my parents and my aunt all
shot dead in front of me. Yeah. Things weren't easy for me either. Most days, I
felt older than seventeen.
"Well, someone's got to stay sober," Jason muttered.
Great. He didn't sound happy. But I guess I couldn't blame him. It didn't sound
like I'd been much fun last night. I really shouldn't have gotten so drunk.
"Just keep her out of your bed," said Hallam. "I don't care how
drunk she is."
I heard the door to Jason's bedroom slam as Hallam stormed out.
Sheepishly, I pulled the pillow off my head and looked at Jason.
"Hey," I said.
"Good morning," said Jason, but he didn't sound at all happy about
it.
Jason was probably one of the most beautiful human beings I'd ever seen. He had
dusky skin, perfect and unmarred, huge dark eyes, and a shock of dark hair that
tended to fall into his eyes. Looking at him, no matter where I was or what I
was doing, nearly always took my breath away, made me tremble inside.
"I'm sorry?" I said. I hoped he wasn't going to be too mad.
Jason sighed. He sat down on the edge of the bed, next to me. "What are
you sorry about?"
"Sorry I got so drunk," I said.
Jason shook his head. "It's not your fault," he said. He reached for
me. Stroked my cheek with the back of his hand. "It's Jude's fault."
"Jude?" I asked. For some reason, Jason did not like Jude very much.
"He got you all messed up and then he just abandoned you," said
Jason.
It was true that Jude had disappeared last night. But I wanted Jason to like
Jude. Jude was probably my best friend. "We were at a party," I said.
"I'm sure he just got . . . distracted."
"Don't defend him," said Jason.
"He's my friend." I had to defend him. If I didn't, Jason would never
start liking him. Ever.
Jason rolled his eyes. "I don't know why you spend so much time with that
jerk, anyway."
"He's fun!" I said.
"Right," said Jason. He looked down at his hands. "Unlike me,
right?"
"Jason!" I rolled over in bed, frustrated. My head pounded angrily at
the sudden movement. "There is no reason to compare the two of you. You're
Jason. He's Jude. You're both fun, just in different ways."
"I just feel like I never see you anymore. You're always hanging out with
him. You're never hanging out with me."
"You sound jealous."
Jason shrugged.
"Jesus, he's gay!" I exclaimed. "He's like a girl."
"Except he's not a girl," said Jason.
"Oh my God," I muttered. I sat up in bed, carefully this time, so as
not to upset my throbbing head. I crawled over to Jason. Hugged him from
behind. "Don't be jealous of Jude," I murmured, kissing Jason's neck.
"You shouldn't be jealous of anyone, ever. No one could ever be to me what
you are. You're . . . Jason."
Jason turned his head and his lips met mine. "I know that," he
whispered in a husky voice. It always made me swoon. It was the voice meant
only for me. He didn't talk to anyone else in
that voice.
I caressed his face. Ran my finger over the line of his jaw. He winced.
I leaned forward. "Are you hurt?"
"It's nothing," Jason said, standing up.
I flopped back on the bed. "What did you do?" I demanded. "Did
you get in another fight?"
"I . . ." Jason trailed off.
"Jason!"
"I'm sorry," he said. "But you should have heard this guy. He
had it coming. That bastard."
"What happened?" I asked.
"I couldn't find you when I got to the party," said Jason. "But
I found that jerk, Jude, and he said he put you in a tent. And you were
fine." Jason glowered into space.
"A tent?" I had no memory of being in a tent.
"Yeah," said Jason. "That dickwad just dumped you there and ran
off."
"At least he put me in a tent," I said. Wow. How drunk had I been? A
thought suddenly occurred to me. "Oh God. You didn't beat up Jude, did
you?"
Jason shook his head. "No."
"Good," I said. Because if my boyfriend had beaten up my best friend,
it probably would have meant I didn't have a best friend anymore. And the
thought of Jason punching skinny, prissy Jude was almost too much to handle. He
would have destroyed Jude.
"Jude never could have gotten a punch on me," said Jason.
Of course not. I snorted.
"So I found the tent, and this guy was standing outside. I looked inside.
You were in there, passed out. And you were only wearing your bikini."
"What?!" I demanded. I had gone to that party clothed,
dammit. "Where were my clothes?"
"In the tent," said Jason.
So how did they get off? I didn't ask that question out loud. Concerned, I
wiggled my pelvis. It felt . . . fine. "What happened?" I repeated.
Jason didn't look at me. "The guy outside the tent said that he wouldn't
say anything if I . . ." Jason trailed off. He whipped his head around and
looked straight in my eyes. "He said to save him seconds."
I covered my mouth with my hand. "Oh my God."
"Yeah," said Jason. "And Jude just left you there. With people
like that around."
"So you beat up the guy outside the tent?"
"I did. I wasn't going to, because it wasn't like he did anything. I just
told him to shut up, because you were my girlfriend. And he said, 'Your
girlfriend looks like a drunken slut.' That's when I beat him up."
"Oh," I said. I was quiet. "How bad?" I finally asked.
Jason shrugged. "I don't know."
"Did they have to call an ambulance again?" I asked.
"I don't know. I took you and left."
I didn't say anything.
"He was bleeding a lot, I guess," said Jason. "Maybe I broke his
nose. I don't know."
"Oh God, you shouldn't have done that."
"Can you blame me? He was clearly a total bastard."
"I just don't think it's a good idea for you to do things that might
attract attention to us," I said.
Jason sat back down on the bed. "Azazel, we're safe," he said.
"I know," I said. "But I don't trust the Sons. And I just feel
like every time you do something like that, it sends out a beacon to them
screaming, 'Here we are!'"
"They probably know where we are, anyway," said Jason. "They're
a huge, powerful organization. I'm sure they haven't just forgotten about
me."
"Maybe they did," I said. "Maybe they did." I wished I
could believe that. I wished I wasn't worried nearly every second of every day
that the Sons of the Rising Sun were going to burst into our house, guns
blazing, kill me, and take Jason. We were blackmailing them with information we
had, and so far it seemed to be working. But every day, I worried that it
wouldn't work anymore. They'd find some way around our deal. They'd come for
us.
Jason lay down next me on the bed. He gathered me in his arms. I buried my head
in his chest.
"We're safe," he whispered into my hair. "I swear we're safe. I
swear I'll keep you safe."
And I wanted to believe him. I did.
"All I want to do is keep you safe," he said. "You know that,
right?"
I lifted my head to look at him. He was so heartbreakingly beautiful. "I
know."
"That's why I hit that guy," said Jason. "When it comes to you,
Azazel, I just . . . I can't think straight. If anyone ever hurt you, I'd go
absolutely insane. You're so important to me."
I kissed him. "I love you," I said.
"I love you," he said.
We kissed again, Jason's hands stroking my back. I moaned softly.
And Hallam stormed into the bedroom. "Out!" he thundered.
"Azazel, get out of this bed!"
I got out of the bed, folding my arms over my chest and glaring at Hallam.
"We were just kissing," I said.
"Sure," said Hallam. "It's all just kissing until someone gets
pregnant."
I rolled my eyes. But I went to my own room anyway. I needed to find some
ibuprofen.
* * *
It was nearly eleven-thirty, and I had to be at work
at noon. I worked at the Regal Cinemas on Cortez, a ten-minute drive from our
apartment if the traffic wasn't bad. Which it always was. Jude said that in the
summer, there was no traffic in
When we first moved to
We had a very hard time at first, because we didn't have a car, so we had to
rely on buses and on favors from co-workers. Sometimes it worked out, sometimes
it didn't. Finally, Jason suggested that I should get in touch with my
grandmother. She was my only living relative, besides my three adopted
brothers.
I didn't want to contact Grandma Hoyt at first. I was worried that the Sons
could use her to get to me, or that she might be in danger. After all, it was
the Sons who had shot my parents. They didn't seem to have qualms about killing
whoever got in their way. Jason and Hallam were sure that the Sons were out of
the picture, so eventually I did.
Grandma Hoyt bought me a car, and started sending me a pretty decent allowance
every month. It helped make our situation more comfortable, but I still worked,
because I liked having the extra cash. Besides, with Jason working as well, if
I stayed home, I'd be alone most of the time. I really didn't like being alone
anymore. I got really freaked out when I was by myself in our apartment. I
didn't know if I was really worried about the Sons busting in and shooting me
or not. But I did know that I got very, very frightened, and I couldn't handle
it.
So I worked. That afternoon, I was so hung over and miserable that I really
wished that I didn't. But I dragged myself into the shower, got dressed, ate
something, and went to work. The night before, I'd left directly from work and
gone to the party, and I'd accidentally left my uniform in the staff workroom.
When I arrived, Jude was waiting for me, holding my uniform.
"Girl!" he exclaimed. "I cannot believe you are standing!"
"Oh my God, Jude! How drunk did I get last night?"
Jude shook his head in awe. "You were wasted," he said. He handed me
my uniform. "Better get changed. We've got to start slinging popcorn in
two minutes."
"Ugh," I muttered, taking the uniform from him.
Jude was tall and very skinny. He was a quarter Cherokee, so he had dusky skin
and dark eyes. (Like Jason, in fact, who was also a quarter Native American,
but Muscogee.) Jude liked to wear heavy eyeliner, but at work, it was against
the dress code, so Jude only wore a little bit. He also had three holes in each
of his ears, plus a nose piercing. He had to take out all his piercings for
work too. The theater couldn't do much about his hair, however, which he dyed
various unnatural shades. Currently, his hair was electric blue. Last week,
however, it had been bright orange. I'd seen it green, purple, and fire-engine
red. Jude also made it a point to paint his nails. At the moment, they were
purple and sparkly.
"Come into the bathroom with me while I change," I said. "I want
to know everything about what happened last night."
"While you change?" Jude said.
"Yeah," I said. I took him by the arm and pulled him into the staff
bathroom with me.
The staff bathroom didn't have stalls. It just had one toilet and a sink. It
was for either men or women. Once inside, I locked the door, and pulled my
shirt over my head.
"So where did you go?" I asked, folding my shirt and searching for my
uniform polo.
Jude wasn't looking at me. He was staring at the floor, like he was
embarrassed.
"I'm sorry," I said. "Does it make you uncomfortable that I'm
taking off my clothes? I just thought . . ."
Jude looked at me, grinning. "No, girl, you're fine," he said.
"Okay," I said.
Jude took a deep breath. "I wouldn't have left you if I thought you were
so drunk," he said.
"I didn't mean to get that drunk," I said.
"You weren't when I left," he said.
"Left?"
"I didn't leave the party," Jude said. "I just started chasing
this yummy boy with long blonde hair."
I unbuttoned my jeans and wriggled out of them. "And?"
"Oh, he turned out to be straight."
"Sorry."
Jude shrugged. "Whatev." He glanced at me and then looked away. I was making him uncomfortable. I needed to
try to remember that being gay did not make Jude a girl. Maybe I was being
rude. "So, what do you remember?"
"Not much. I remember looking for you, not being able to find you, and
calling Jason."
"Oh yeah," said Jude, "your boyfriend's intense, isn't he?"
Intense? That was one way to put it. "How do you mean?"
"He hospitalized that guy. I've never seen anyone fight like that. He was
like a machine."
Damn it. Why was Jason always getting in fights? "He had to go to
hospital, huh?"
"Yeah. Broken ribs."
Ribs? "Dammit," I said, shaking my head. I thrust my leg into my
uniform khakis. Jason had to stop this.
"You remember the fight?" Jude asked.
"No. Jason told me about it."
Jude nodded. "You don't remember anything, then?"
I shook my head. "Not really."
"Is that weird?" he asked. "I've never blacked out before."
"Neither have I," I said. I remembered drinking, but I really didn't
think I'd had that much
to drink. The whole thing was weird. I buttoned my khakis thoughtfully.
"Jason said something about that guy outside the tent. Like he said
something about me."
Jude raised his eyebrows. "What did he say?"
I was probably being paranoid. "Jude, you don't think I was like roofied
or something, do you?"
Now that I was fully dressed, Jude was looking right at me. "Why would you
think that?"
"Jason said that when he found me I was only wearing my bikini. And the
guy told him to save him seconds."
Jude made a horrified face. "Eew."
"Yeah."
"Well, are you okay? I mean, do you think . . .?"
"Oh, no. I'm fine. I mean, I don't think that happened.
But maybe someone was trying?"
Jude crossed to me and hugged me tightly. "Omigod," he said. "I
am so sorry. I will never leave you alone at a party again."
Work would have been torturous without Jude. He kept me laughing, whispering
jokes about what the customers were wearing or saying when no one was looking.
I really liked Jude. He was one of my favorite things about living in
Six months ago, my biggest problem had been that I thought I was the oldest
virgin on earth. I wasn't a virgin anymore, but sometimes, I almost wished I
could go back to my life before. Then, my parents were alive, and I loved them.
I lived in a busy, crowded home full of teenage foster boys, but I didn't
realize how great it was to feel loved like that. I didn't realize how great it
was to trust people implicitly. Now, I didn't trust anyone. I had nightmares a
lot. I dreamed about my parents getting shot. I'd see it over and over again,
in slow motion. The surprised look on their faces. The blood. The way their
bodies had crumpled. In the worst dreams, the ones that always made me sit up
straight in bed, screaming, I'd see Jason's face when he was shooting the
members of the Sons who'd killed my parents. He looked determined and
dangerous. Frenzied. Angry.
After that nightmare, Jason would rush into my room, and he'd be so sweet and
comforting that I'd wonder how I could ever feel frightened of him. He was
perfect. He was wonderful. He was mine. He wasn't scary.
But other times, when the dream didn't go that far, I wouldn't wake up without
screaming, just seeing the image of my dead parents engraved on the back of my
eyelids. And I'd think about other things. I'd think about Michaela Weem,
Jason's crazy mother, who had screamed at me that together Jason and I would
destroy things. She had told me that Jason was destined for violence on a grand
scale. She had wanted me to kill Jason. Michaela Weem had believed that Jason
was too dangerous to live. And she'd been able to convince a lot of people that
she was right. I tried to tell myself she wasn't. I loved Jason more than life.
I would die for him. I would kill for him. He was all that I had.
But Michaela had been right about one thing. Once. She'd told us that together
Jason and I would "drive men mad." And we had. When we kissed, a
whole group of the Sons had stopped shooting and completely lost their minds.
If she'd been right about that, maybe she was right about . . . But no. No.
Jason was not going to enslave the world. I didn't think that. Irefused to think that.
Between freaking out about the Sons trying to kill me, reliving the trauma of
my murdered parents, and worrying that my boyfriend was actually the
anti-christ (instead of the messiah, which was what the Sons thought), my life
was not exactly a cakewalk. I longed for the days when I worried about my
history exam or whether girls at school were gossiping about me. All of that
just seemed ridiculous and childish now. Sometimes, I felt very old. Jude was
right. Jason was intense. Ever since he'd appeared in my life, everything had
been intense.
That was why I liked Jude so much. He made me feel normal, like a regular
teenage girl again. One who thought about parties and boys and make-up. I used
to think that kind of stuff was shallow, but now I wished like hell it was all
I thought about. I missed it. I felt like my innocence had been stolen or
something.
Thanks to Jude, the six hours of my shift went by pretty quickly. Afterwards,
we sat outside of the theater, drinking huge sodas (one of the perks of working
at movie theater). I was waiting for Jason to pick me up. We only had one car,
and I hadn't wanted to monopolize it. Jude was just hanging out with me.
"You wanna go to that party at Rachel Kline's next weekend?" he
asked.
"God," I said. "I'm not sure if I ever want to drink
again."
Jude laughed. "I've heard that before."
"Hey!" I said. "I don't drink that much."
"You can hold your own, girl," said Jude, with a touch of admiration.
I rolled my eyes. "I just like to have fun. Is that so wrong?"
"You are fun," said Jude. "That's why I like you so much."
I'd always been such a goody-goody back in
"Well, Jude," I said, "you're kind of fun, yourself."
"Kind of?" he said. "I am a blast, and you love it."
I laughed. Jude was a
blast.
"So, party, then?" he asked.
"Maybe," I said. "I'll ask Jason if he wants to come. He might
have to work, though."
Jude raised his eyebrows.
"Jason can come, right?"
"Keep him on a leash. He can't beat anybody else up."
I sighed. "I can't believe he did that."
"He was protecting you," said Jude. "It's sweet and all, and I
understand, but didn't he get in a fight at school last week?"
"Yeah," I said, inwardly groaning. Jason had anger issues.
"Speaking of Jason, where the hell is he?" He was at least ten
minutes late.
"Call him," said Jude.
"I'll give him another minute or two," I said. "You don't have
to wait if you don't want."
"Are you kidding? Of course I'm going to wait with you. I wouldn't let you
sit outside the theater by yourself."
"Thanks," I said. But I remembered that earlier that day Jason had
called Jude a jerk, and I wondered if it was a good idea for Jude to be there
when Jason pulled up.
I scolded myself. It wasn't like Jason just started punching people for no
reason. He had to be provoked. The guy he'd beat up last week at school for
instance, had been threatening some poor freshman girl and being really vulgar.
To Jason's credit, he hadn't started the fight. He'd asked the guy to cut it
out. The guy had started swinging. It was just really stupid to try to fight
Jason. Jason was too good at beating people up.
"Maybe I will call him," I said to Jude. I got my phone out of my
purse and selected Jason's name out of my recently dialed log. Holding the
phone up to my ear, I waited while it rang.
Jason picked up. "Azazel," he said.
"Hey," I said. "Are you coming to pick me up?"
"Crap," he said. "What time is it?"
I told him.
"I'm sorry," he said. "We've got a little situation here."
My heart started to race. A situation? It was the Sons, wasn't it? What had
happened? "What?" I said, serious now.
"It's Lilith," he said.
Chapter Two
To: Edgar Weem
From: Renegade Son
Subject: Monthly update
Edgar,
Not much has changed. Jason is still behaving violently. He's been badly
beating several other boys in the area, both at school and work. He's still completely
and utterly devoted to Azazel.
I look for other tell-tale signs, but he seems like a normal kid otherwise.
Nothing else to report.
Hallam
The last time I saw my best friend Lilith, she was
wearing a silk black robe and explaining to me that everyone in my entire town
(including her) was a Satanist. She was telling me that my parents, my
principal, and my teachers all thought that I was the Vessel of Azazel and that
I was supposed to kill Jason for the greater good. The time that I'd seen her before
that, I'd found out that she'd been sleeping with my then-boyfriend Toby for
years. I wasn't really on speaking terms with Lilith anymore.
But there she was, sitting in the living room of our apartment in
Standing in the doorway with Jason, I glowered at her. I'd wanted him to fill
me in on the way home, but I hadn't really given him the chance to talk,
because I'd spent the entire ride ranting about how I couldn't believe that
Lilith had the nerve to show up at my house. If Lilith was expecting some kind
of tear-filled, happy reunion with me, she had another thing coming.
"What are you doing here?" I demanded.
"Hi Zaza," she said, smiling tentatively.
The sound of my old nickname made me cringe. My parents used to call me that.
"It's Azazel," I said.
"Sorry," she said.
I crossed my arms over my chest. "Well?" I said. "Why are you
here?"
"Azazel," said Jason from behind me, "maybe—"
I turned on him, silencing him with a look. He backed away, making a hands-off
gesture. "I'll let you two catch up," he said, and tried to duck into
the kitchen, away from us.
"No way," I said. "You're not going anywhere." I clutched
his arm and yanked him over to me, so that we were standing shoulder to
shoulder. A united front. Against Lilith.
"You're mad," said Lilith.
"Duh," I said.
Lilith nodded. "Of course you're mad," she said. "Why wouldn't
you be?"
"You screwed my boyfriend behind my back and tried to get me to kill
Jason," I said. "So, yeah, I'm pretty much mad. Pretty much hoped
never to see you again. Pretty much want you to get the hell out."
Lilith's face fell. Then she nodded. "Okay," she said, standing up
from the couch and slinging her duffel bag over her shoulder. "I
understand."
"Wait," said Jason.
What? I looked at Jason, shocked. Why was he saying that? He was supposed to be
on my side.
"She ran away from home," said Jason.
"So?" I said.
"So, she's got nowhere else to go," he said.
"I don't care," I said.
"She needs help," he said.
"She doesn't deserve my help," I said.
"Why not?" he asked.
"You know why not," I said. "Because of what I just said."
"The stuff about Toby?" he asked.
"Yeah," I said.
Jason nodded. "You still care about Toby?" he asked, not looking at
me.
"No," I said. It was a moot point. Toby was dead, anyhow. The Sons
had killed him the same time they'd killed my parents.
"Good," said Jason, turning to look at me, "because if I
remember correctly, he was big jerk who tried to rape you. Twice."
Was Jason jealous of everyone suddenly? Good God. First Jude, now Toby? How
could someone be jealous of a gay guy and a dead guy? What was next? Actors on
TV?
"He was a
jerk," said Lilith.
I looked at her witheringly. "The last time I heard the two of you
talking, you said you loved him."
"I was an idiot," said Lilith. "I guess he told both of us that
he loved us, didn't he?"
"Well, yeah," I said, "but he only said that to me because the
coven forced him to date me so that I would stay a virgin for the ritual. I
kind of don't think that counts. He really loved you."
"Which was why he took off after you right after you and Jason left,
right?" said Lilith. "That was why he ditched me and got himself
killed. Because he loved me?"
Okay, point. "Right, well, like Jason said, Toby was a jerk."
"So, it's stupid to be mad at Lilith about her relationship with him,
then," said Jason.
Stupid? Did Jason just call me stupid? "I don't think it's stupid,
exactly," I said.
Jason made another hands-off gesture. "Bad choice of words," he
admitted. "I'm just saying that Toby was never really that important to
you, anyway, right?"
Well . . . "I dated him for four years," I said. "So, I mean, he
was kind of important."
"But not as . . ." Jason trailed off. "Not as important as
me?"
"Of course not!" I said. "God, you're insecurity is getting to
me!"
"I'm not being insecure," Jason said, looking hurt. "I'm just
trying to moderate this conversation between you and Lilith. So don't get
pissed at me."
It was hard to be mad at Jason. I bit my lip. "Sorry," I finally
muttered.
"Me too," he said. "Sometimes the Toby thing makes me
defensive."
I was the first and only person Jason had ever kissed, but I'd kissed Toby
before Jason. We'd talked about it a few times. Jason felt a little threatened
by the specter of Toby, even though he'd been, as mentioned, a really big jerk.
I crossed to Jason and squeezed his hand. He kissed me on the forehead. I
looked up into his huge, brown eyes. I melted.
"Whoa," breathed Lilith.
I snapped around to look at her. For a minute, I'd kind of forgotten she was
there. "What?" I said.
She shook her head. "You two are just . . . whoa." Her mouth was
slightly open. "You're really in love, aren't you?"
What did that have to do with anything? I looked back at Jason. "She can't
stay here," I said. "She just can't."
"Zaza, you have no idea how sorry I am about everything," said
Lilith.
"Don't call me that!"
"Bramford's apparently pretty horrible since your parents died and we
left," said Jason. "The coven has gotten oppressive."
"I don't care," I said. I didn't.
Jason kept going. "They're convinced that they weren't successful in
killing me because they weren't worthy. So everyone's been forced to
participate in really bizarre rituals. Lilith's lucky to get out."
That did sound kind of awful. "So what?" I said, not ready to back
down. "You don't want to be a Satanist anymore?"
"I never wanted to be a Satanist," said Lilith. "It was just
peer pressure, you know? Everybody else was doing it. I wanted to run off with
Toby. You heard me in the bathroom the night of Homecoming."
She had said
something like that, hadn't she? Damn it. I didn't want Lilith around. Here in
I sighed. "If she stayed here, it couldn't be forever."
"No, I know that," said Lilith. "Just until I find something
else. Get established. Maybe a few weeks. A month."
"Fine," I said.
"Really?" said Lilith. "Thank you so much." She leaped off
the couch and hugged me. I didn't hug her back.
Finally, she released me. She stepped back, looking embarrassed. I didn't care.
Lilith could stay here, but it didn't mean I was going to forgive her. It
didn't mean we were going to be best friends anymore.
"What's Hallam think about it?" I asked Jason.
"Um, Hallam hasn't been home," said Jason.
"So, it's just been you and Lilith here?" I asked. "Talking? For
hours?"
"Yeah," said Jason, giving me a funny look.
Lilith used to think Jason was really attractive. She used to joke about trying
to have sex with him. Lilith was, well, promiscuous. I narrowed my eyes.
"Let me handle Hallam," said Jason.
* * *
Hallam wasn't pleased with the idea of Lilith crashing
on our couch, but he eventually gave in. He said Lilith wouldn't have much
privacy in our living room. I offered to give Lilith my room and stay with
Jason. Hallam, of course, vetoed that idea immediately. Given the option of
Jason and I "living in sin" or Lilith not having privacy, he decided
her privacy was the lesser of two evils.
Truthfully, I didn't want to share a bedroom with Jason because I wanted to
have sex. Not justbecause I wanted to have sex,
anyway. I liked falling asleep with him. Snuggling in his arms, feeling his
smooth skin against mine. I liked waking up with him. I just longed to be as
close to Jason as I could, whenever I could.
We got Lilith some sheets and made up the couch for her to sleep on. By this
time, it was pretty late, and we all had to be up early the next morning.
Hallam had his early class on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. He also had
early office hours on Tuesdays. On Thursdays, he didn't go in until ten.
Sometimes, on Thursdays, Hallam slept in, and Jason and I would sneak into the
shower together. But more often than not, Hallam just woke up early anyway. He
said it was habit.
We all went to sleep. The apartment was quiet, and I could hear Lilith shifting
around on the couch, trying to get comfortable. We'd gotten the couch at
Goodwill, because it had been cheap. It was less than comfortable. I tried to
feel a little sorry for Lilith, but I just couldn't do it.
I was exhausted, and I fell asleep almost immediately after that. I dreamed.
In my dream, I was in the basement of my parents' house, wearing a silky black
robe. The hood was over my eyes. The room was lit only with candles, and they
flickered eerily. My hands were tied together. I was drunk. I stumbled as I
tried to run away, but I was surrounded by other people, similarly clad in
black robes. They caught me. They held me. I struggled, but they were stronger
than me. Their hoods were over their faces, so I couldn't see who was who.
I elbowed random robed people. They fell back, but there was always someone
else to take their place, holding me fast. They were chanting, intoning
something in another language that sounded ancient and evil.
"Stop," I slurred. "Stop. I think I'm going to throw up."
Lilith was in front of me, lowering her hood. "Zaza," she said,
"we have to finish the ritual."
Someone grabbed me from behind. I twisted, trying to wriggle out of his grasp,
but I couldn't break free. "Hold still," said the person holding me,
and I recognized his voice.
Toby.
I struggled harder, my heart racing. But Toby was pulling me, dragging me down
on the ground. Toby was on top of me, the weight of his body smashing my bones,
suffocating me. I really thought I was going to throw up. I was so drunk.
"Toby, stop," I pleaded.
Toby didn't listen. His legs were between my legs, forcing them open.
I screamed. "Jason!" I yelled. Where was Jason? Jason always saved
me. I needed him. Where was he?
I pushed Toby's hood out of the way, but when I looked at him, it wasn't Toby
under the hood. It was Jason. He was leering at me as he fumbled with the
buttons of my robe.
"No!" I screamed and with all of my might, I pushed Jason/Toby off of
me and I ran.
I scrambled up the steps in the basement, and flung open the door at the top.
Outside the basement, I was on the beach in
Jude was waiting for me. He took my hand. "Let's get you home," he
said.
I woke up out of breath, my heart beating out of my chest. Well. That was a new
nightmare.
For a few minutes, I just lay still under the covers, the fear paralyzing me. I
wanted to get up and go crawl in bed with Jason, but I couldn't move. So I
didn't. I stared at the ceiling until sleep pulled me under again.
The next morning, my alarm woke me at 6:15. I slapped it off and lay back on
the bed. I didn't want to get up. But I dragged myself out of bed and into the
shower. I got the first shower every morning, because I had to blow dry my
hair, which I did in my bedroom while Jason was showering. Hallam's class
wasn't until eight, so he showered after Jason. He grumbled a lot, because he
ran out of hot water at the end of his shower.
Lilith was asleep on the couch, so we tiptoed around her as we left for school.
Jason and I walked the five blocks to
Everything was different in
I was making good grades, though. So was Jason. Sometimes, Hallam asked us
questions about college, but neither of us had really done anything on that
front. At this point, it was practically too late. Back in Bramford, I'd sent
in my application for WVU in the fall. I'd been so sure that I'd end up in
Jason and I arrived at school at 7:35, ten minutes before first period. We
walked each other to our lockers, dropping off our book bags and getting our
books for first block. Then we parted ways (without kissing, because PDA was
strongly frowned upon) because we had different classes on different sides of
the school.
It was an Odd day (or an A day), so my first class was history with Mr.
Sutherland. Jason had Mr. Sutherland too, but on Even days (B days). I couldn't
figure out why they called the schedules Odd and Even. They didn't coincide
with the day of the week. It didn't make any sense at all. Mr. Sutherland also
taught AP History, but neither Jason nor I had any AP classes. Still, Mr.
Sutherland seemed to expect a little more of his general classes. Maybe it was
because he was from
Mr. Sutherland really liked me, to the point that Jude was always teasing me
about being a teacher's pet. Jude had first block with me on Odd days. Mr.
Sutherland thought that I was "brilliant" and "talented,"
and he couldn't understand how I'd ended up in a general history class. I
appreciated that he had such a high opinion of me, but sometimes, the way he
fawned over me was really, really annoying. I blamed him for single-handedly
making everyone in my history class hate me.
I met Jude at the door to Mr. Sutherland's class. We made our way to our seats
the back corner. Mr. Sutherland wasn't much for seating charts, which was good,
as far as I was concerned. If I got separated from Jude, this class would be
unbearable.
"Tell me all about this Lilith chick," said Jude as we sat down.
God. How could I? There were some things I just couldn’t share with everyone.
It made me sound nuts to say that my family had turned out to be Satanists. No
one would believe me if I said that Jason and I had been chased across the
country by a secret society bent of global domination. I shrugged. "She
was my best friend in
As far as Jude knew, I'd moved here because my parents died. That was it.
"Was?" asked Jude.
"Well, she was sleeping with my boyfriend, so I kind of wasn't speaking to
her anymore."
"She was sleeping with Jason?" Jude asked.
The bell rang.
"Excuse me," said Mr. Sutherland in his British accent.
No one listened to him. "No," I said. "Not Jason."
"Class!" said Mr. Sutherland. "Quiet down for
announcements."
The room still didn't get quiet.
"A different boyfriend?" asked Jude.
"Yeah," I said.
"Who you're not dating anymore," said Jude. "So what's the
big?"
Why didn't anybody understand this? "She betrayed me," I said.
"I don't trust her."
"Next person to speak loses free time," said Mr. Sutherland.
Free time was Mr. Sutherland's way of keeping his classes in line. Everyone got
five minutes to chat at the end of class, unless they misbehaved. Losing free
time meant you had to do menial tasks for Mr. Sutherland like passing out
papers or cleaning up trash from the floor or emptying the pencil sharpener.
Everyone got quiet.
"Thank you," said Mr. Sutherland.
The loud speaker beeped. "Good morning Bayshore High. This is your
principal, Mr. Dingle."
He started out announcements like that every day. Like we didn't know who he
was. And if you dealt with teenagers every day, would you really advertise the
fact your last name wasDingle?
Mr. Dingle was a strange man. He was young, blonde, and tan. He always seemed
very excited, and he carried a bell around with him, one of those silver ones
with a wooden handle. If students were doing something he didn't approve of, he
would ring the bell in their faces and say, "Now, now. Let's make a better
choice, okay?" He'd rung the bell at Jason and me many times for kissing
in the hallway. I really didn't like him.
A soft murmur began in the classroom as students began to talk again.
"You think she'd do it again?" Jude whispered to me. "Are you
worried about Jason?"
Was I—? That was silly.
"Of course not," I said. Jason would never do that. He was devoted to
me.
"Jenna, that's your free time," said Mr. Sutherland.
I shut my mouth.
Mr. Dingle continued, "The most important announcement this morning is
that my bell has been stolen."
Really? That was great! Awesome. I hated that bell.
Other students seemed to share my sentiment, since a few laughed and one guy
emitted a whoop.
"Class!" warned Mr. Sutherland.
"Anyone with any information about the whereabouts of my bell should
contact me or your teachers. When I find out who has taken the bell, he or she
will be punished severely."
I rolled my eyes. Everyone in class laughed.
"That rocks," said Jude.
I grinned. "Yeah."
The entire classroom had erupted in conversation.
"Quiet!" yelled Mr. Sutherland, but it was a lost cause. Any further
announcements were drowned out by the rest of the class talking.
"So," Jude said, "why is Lilith here?"
I sighed, picking up my purse to look for a pen. "She ran away from home.
She's staying with us for a few weeks."
"Aren't her parents going to be looking for her?"
I shrugged. "She's eighteen. I don't know what they can do."
I couldn't wait until Jason and I were both eighteen, which wouldn't be until
the late spring. Jason's birthday was soon, but mine wasn't until May. When
that happened, we wouldn't need Hallam anymore. We could move out and be on our
own.
I searched through my purse with my hands, not really looking at it. I felt for
the small cylindrical plastic of my pen. Instead, my hand brushed cold metal.
What was that?
I pulled it out of my purse to look at it, and everyone got quiet suddenly.
Dammit. It was Mr. Dingle's bell.
How had it gotten in my purse?
I looked at Jude, confusion and surprise all over my face.
He grinned at me. "Way to go, Azazel!" he said, applauding.
The rest of the class joined in, cheering. Well. On the plus side, maybe they
wouldn't hate me anymore.
Mr. Sutherland was staring at me, slack-jawed. He looked crushed. After all,
here I was, his star student, a delinquent. Except for the fact that I hadn't
taken the bell! How had it gotten in my purse in the first place?
Mr. Sutherland smiled. "Well, Azazel, I guess we'll be spending some
afternoons together." And he actually looked excited at the prospect. Eew.
Mr. Sutherland ran afterschool detention.
I stared at the bell in my hands. Where had this bell come from?
"I'm going to have to write you a referral," said Mr. Sutherland.
Great.
Chapter Three
michaela666 (6:33:02): You're going to see her today,
right?
aird92 (6:33:44): everyday, u know that.
michaela666 (6:34:12): It worries me. If she figures out what you've done,
there could be bad repercussions.
aird92 (6:34:53): u worry about everything. she doesn't suspect anything.
michaela666 (6:35:33): And Jason? Does he suspect anything?
aird92 (06:35:48): stop worrying. geez!!!
Mr. Dingle turned the bell over and over in his hands.
"This is very simple, Azazel. Just tell me how you got the bell."
He didn't believe me. I didn't blame him. It sounded like something stupid that
a kid would say to get out of trouble. "It just showed up in my purse, I
swear," I said.
Mr. Dingle's office was covered in pictures of him holding a surf board. Where
in God's name did he go surfing? We were on the Gulf. There weren't any waves
here! Sometimes he was with other guys with surfboards. Sometimes he was with
different blonde, pretty girls. Weird.
"You can't expect me to believe that," he said.
"I know it sounds stupid," I said. "And I really hate your
stupid bell. But I didn't take it. I've been framed."
Mr. Dingle shook his head. "Why would someone do that?"
Why would someone do that? As I'd been walking up the office, I'd had time to
really look at the bell. It was silver, with a wooden handle. Nothing weird
about that at all. But there was something about the bell I'd never noticed before.
On the front of the bell, engraved into the metal was a picture of the sun,
rising over the ocean.
The Rising Sun.
Someone was trying to give me a message. The Sons. But I couldn't very well
tell Mr. Dingle that, now could I?
We went round and round for over an hour, which was kind of cool, because it
meant that I missed the rest of Mr. Sutherland's class. On the other hand, I
was freaked out, expecting the Sons to bust through the windows of Mr. Dingle's
office at any second. They'd be in black. The glass would shatter, flying out,
cutting our skin. It would be quick. One gun shot in Mr. Dingle's head. One in
mine. We'd slump dead over his desk, blood seeping into his papers. The Sons
would use silencers, so no one else would ever even know. At some point, one of
the secretaries would come in. She'd scream.
But that didn't happen. Instead, Mr. Dingle assigned me a week of detention,
starting tomorrow, so I could arrange transportation if necessary. He told me
he was going to call my parents.
"My parents are dead," I told him.
He looked a little taken aback when I said that. Sorry for me. That pissed me
off. How dare Mr. Dingle feel sorry for me? But after checking my records, he
promised he'd call Hallam. Wonderful. Like Hallam needed another reason to hate
me.
I returned to my 2nd/3rd block class. Apparently, word had spread. I was like a
celebrity or something. Whenever I walked in, everyone started clapping and
cheering. Our teacher, Ms. Ritter, calmed everyone down as best as she could. I
sat down in my regular seat and tried to concentrate on the math lesson. All I
could think about were the Sons. They'd put that bell in my purse for a reason.
Why? What were they planning? Why were they messing with me?
After 2nd/3rd, Jason and I had lunch. It was 10:30 at that point. We had the
earliest lunch shift in the school. I was never hungry at 10:30, so I usually
just bought some yogurt from the vending machine. Jason, however, being the
growing boy that he was, ate lunch. It kind of pissed me off, but I was used to
it. I'd grown up in house full of teenage boys. They ate. A lot. And they never
got fat, they just got taller. And taller. When I'd first met Jason, he'd been
about 5'10". Now he was pushing six feet.
Jude and I didn't share a lunch shift, but I'd see him in 6th/7th block. That
meant that I sat alone, waiting for Jason to come back with his tray every day.
Except today, everyone in school was stopping to congratulate me on stealing
Mr. Dingle's bell. At first, I tried to explain that I didn't know how I'd got
it, but no one believed me, so eventually, I just started smiling and shrugging
like I was proud of myself.
Jason sat down with me, carrying a tray loaded with chicken fingers and corn.
"What the hell?" he greeted me.
"I didn't do it," I said. "It just appeared in my purse."
"Really?"
Did he think I would lie to him? "Really," I said. "But I think
I know who did do it."
"Jude?" he asked.
"What?" I glared at him. "Jude didn't do it. Why would you even
think that?"
Jason shrugged. "So who did it then?"
"The Sons," I said.
"What?" said Jason. "Why would the Sons steal Mr. Dingle's
bell?"
"Have you ever looked closely at that bell? It's got a picture of a rising
sun on it. They're sending me a message. I don't know what it means, but it's
not good."
Jason took a bite of a chicken finger. "You're paranoid."
"You don't believe me?"
"It doesn't make any sense. Sorry. The Sons wouldn't steal a bell to send
you a message. They'd just . . . I don't know . . . kill you."
"But the sun—"
"Coincidence."
"So how did the bell get in my purse?"
"I don't know," said Jason.
"Someone set me up. Who would do that?"
"I don't know."
"It's not like anyone hates me around here. No one even knows I
exist."
At that moment, two girls stopped by my table. "You're Azazel,
right?" one asked.
"You stole the bell?"
I rolled my eyes. "That's me."
"Awesome," said one.
"Yeah, you rock," said the other.
"Thanks," I said.
They walked away.
"You were saying?" asked Jason.
"Well, no one knew who I was before this," I said. "I'm telling
you. The Sons are the only thing that makes any sense."
Jason shook his head. "I know you're always freaked out about them, but
you're wrong. And it doesn't make any sense."
I couldn't believe it. I had clearly been given a message from the Sons. A
warning. And Jason didn't believe me. "It does make sense."
"No," said Jason, "it doesn't. Look, the Sons know to leave us
alone. The minute they try anything, Hallam will go public with the information
that Edgar Weem is my father. Weem would never take that chance."
"What if someone's working without Weem's knowledge?" I said.
"Impossible. He's too high up in the Council for something like that to
happen. And he protects his own interests." Jason reached across the table
and took my hand. "Hey, Azazel, I know it's hard for you. If there was any
way that I go back in time and protect you from all of this, I would. I'm so
sorry that any of this ever happened to you. And I know it scares you. But it's
over. Okay? It's over. The Sons aren't chasing us. The Satanists are dead.
We're safe. Okay? We're safe now."
I squeezed his hand. I wanted to believe him. I really did. But . . .
"What if we're not?" I asked.
"We are," he said.
I pulled my hand back. I hugged myself. "I want you to take me to the
shooting range again."
Jason put down his chicken finger. "Jesus, Azazel, not this again."
"You haven't taken me in weeks," I said.
"Because you don't need to know how to shoot a gun," he said.
"I do so," I said. "I need to, even if no one's after us, so
that I can feel safe."
"We went twice a week for a month," said Jason. "You know the
basics. You're fine. We don't need to go again."
"What if I get out of practice?" I said. "And my aim still isn't
very good. I need to shoot more or else I'm going to lose everything I
know."
Jason sighed. "All I want is for us to be normal kids. But you can't let
this go. You keep living like we're still being chased. We're not."
"Jason . . ." I trailed off. He made me feel bad. I knew that all
Jason had ever wanted was a normal life. I didn't want to be the person who was
ruining that for him.
We were quiet for a while. Jason shoveled corn into his mouth. I opened my
yogurt and began to eat. A few more students stopped by to congratulate me on
my stealing of Mr. Dingle's bell.
"I have detention," I said when they were gone. "For a
week."
"That sucks," commented Jason.
"Yeah, it really does. Because I didn't do it."
Jason shook his head. "Why would someone frame you like that?"
I kept my mouth shut. I knew why. If Jason didn't want to believe me . . . But
maybe he was right. Maybe I was being paranoid. After all, I was the only one
who had nightmares. Jason was fine. He was well-adjusted. He loved living in
sunny
* * *
After school, I found Jude and asked if he minded
giving Jason and I a ride home. He didn't mind. I met Jason at our regular
meeting spot in the front of the school. Jason smiled when he saw me, but his
smile faded when he saw Jude.
"Hi Jason," Jude greeted brightly.
"Hi," Jason muttered.
I wished Jason wouldn't be so blatantly rude to Jude.
"Jude's going to give us a ride home," I said.
"We can walk," said Jason.
"It's too hot," I said.
"It's not a problem," said Jude. "Really."
Jason shrugged his backpack further up on his shoulder. "Fine," he
said. "Let's go."
The three of us trudged silently to the student parking lot and Jude's car.
Jude drove an old Ford Aspire, which he'd painted bright purple. I offered to
sit in the back, but Jason shook his head at me. He didn't want to sit up front
with Jude. So Jason squeezed into the back seat of the car, and I sat up front.
Jude turned on the car and blasted the air conditioning. He backed the car up,
and we pulled out of the student parking lot.
"So, what did I miss in Mr. Sutherland's class?" I asked.
"Not much," said Jude. "Everyone was so excited about the fact
you stole the bell that not much got accomplished. How'd you do it,
anyway?"
"I didn't," I said. "Someone set me up."
"Did you do it, Jude?" Jason asked pointedly from the back.
"Me?" asked Jude. "Why would I get Azazel in trouble? She's my
BFF."
In the backseat, Jason snorted.
I turned around and glared at him.
"Why would someone set you up?" Jude asked.
"Yeah," said Jason. "Why, Azazel?"
I ignored Jason. "I don't know," I said. "Probably because they
didn't want to get in trouble for doing it." It was a message from the
Sons! Why didn't Jason believe me?
"That's screwed up," said Jude. "Sometimes people are
idiots."
"Yeah," I said.
"So, anyway, everybody was really excited about it," Jude continued.
"And Mr. Sutherland barely got to talk about the kidnapping of the
Limburger baby or whatever."
"Lindbergh baby," Jason corrected.
"Right," said Jude. "So, did you tell Dingle that you didn't do
it?"
"Yeah," I said. "But he didn't believe me. I have detention for
the rest of the week."
"Oh no," said Jude. "That totally sucks. What about Thursday?
You're supposed to work right after school."
"I'm just going to ask Mindy to trade shifts with me," I said.
"Think she will?"
"Probably," said Jude. "I'm really sorry that you have
detention. Especially for something you didn't do. And I'm going to miss you on
Thursday. Dammit."
"Yeah, it blows," I agreed. "So who's the Lindbergh baby?"
"Charles Lindbergh's son," said Jason from the back.
"Who's Charles Lindbergh?" I asked.
"I don't know," said Jude.
"We've been talking about him in class all week," said Jason.
"Really?" I asked. "It's hard to concentrate in that class.
Everyone's so noisy. They always get Mr. Sutherland off topic by asking him
about his life when he lived in
"Oh, right," said Jude. "Lindbergh like flew a plane over the
"Right," said Jason, sounding disgusted with both of us.
"So what happened to his baby?" I asked.
"It got kidnapped," said Jude.
"Oh," I said. "That sucks. Did they get him back?"
"I don't know. Mr. Sutherland didn't get to that," said Jude.
"Apparently, at first, they thought it was a practical joke, because
Lindbergh liked to hide the baby in the closet and pretend he didn't know where
he was."
"That's kind of messed up," I said. "Who would hide a baby as a
joke?"
"The guy flew across the
I laughed. Jude didn't.
Hmm. Maybe this dislike was a two-way street.
"I always thought," said Jason, "that would be a good way to
pull off a kidnapping."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"I mean, kidnap someone in their own house," said Jason. "Tie
them up and knock them out, and keep them in their own attic."
"How would you get in and out of the house?" I asked.
"I don't know," said Jason. "Never worked that part out. But it
would be super cool, after you got the ransom money, to be like, 'Yeah, they
were two stories above you the whole time.'"
"That would be impossible to pull off," said Jude. "Besides, why
would you want to kidnap someone?"
"I wouldn't," said Jason. "Not really."
We had arrived at our apartment. Jude parked the car in the parking lot. I
wanted to invite him in, but I knew Jason wouldn't be cool with it. So I just
said goodbye to Jude, and Jason and I got out of the car.
When we got inside, Lilith wasn't there. She'd left a note that she was off job
hunting. Hallam was still at work, so we had the apartment to ourselves for a
while. Usually, I got right to work on my homework after school. I should have
today, especially since I was working later. I had to go in for about four
hours that evening. But I wasn't feeling like doing homework. I was frustrated
and confused about the turn of events at school. I wanted to talk to Jason
about it, but after what he'd said at lunch today, I felt like it would be a
bad idea. Instead, I hunted through the refrigerator for a snack.
Jason dropped off his books in his bedroom and joined me in the kitchen.
"Hey," he said. "I'm sorry about the way I reacted to what you
said at lunch."
I closed the refrigerator. "You mean you think I could be right about the
Sons?"
"Well," said Jason, "no. I don't think they're after us. But I'm
sorry if I made you feel stupid for thinking it. After everything that's
happened to us, I can see why you'd be jumping at shadows."
"I don't think that's what I'm doing," I said. "There was an
engraving of a rising sun on that bell."
"And that's a weird coincidence," said Jason. "It's
understandable that you'd freak out. And it is weird. That bell ending up in
your purse."
"Why do you think it happened?" I asked.
"Somebody's idea of a practical joke, I guess," said Jason.
"Like you said. Maybe that guy from the party that I beat up."
"You think?" I said.
"He'd be holding a grudge against you."
"Who was he? Does he go to our school?"
Jason shrugged.
"Jude said you put him in the hospital. Would he have even been at school
today?"
Jason shrugged again. "Maybe he got one of his friends to do it. There
were a bunch of people at that party."
Maybe Jason was right. There was probably a better explanation than the Sons of
the Rising Sun being after us. "You really think we're safe?" I said.
"I'm sure of it," he said.
I sighed. He was probably right. I was overly excitable. That dream I'd had
last night hadn't helped things either. "I had a nightmare last
night," I said.
"The one about your parents?" Jason asked.
"No," I said. I explained it to him. But I left out the part where
Toby turned into Jason. I didn't want Jason to think that any part of me, even
subconsciously, was ever afraid of him. "It was probably just because
Lilith showed up," I said.
"It sounds horrible," he said. "I'm sorry I wasn't there."
"I wanted to come crawl into bed with you," I admitted, "but I
was so scared. And I knew it would just piss Hallam off."
Jason folded me into his arms. "Screw Hallam," he whispered into my
ear. "If you need me, you come to me. Don't let him stop you."
I hugged him back, liking how safe I felt with arms around me. His strong, strong
arms. I snuggled against his chest. Jason stroked my hair. He kissed my
forehead.
I looked up at him, into his eyes. My breath caught in my throat. He was so
beautiful. Looking at him, close like this, I was so overwhelmed by how
gorgeous he was. And he was mine. My beautiful, strong, wonderful Jason. His
head dipped down and our lips met.
His lips were soft, supple against mine. But his arms held me close against
him, pulling me tight against his body. I touched his neck, followed the
outline of the muscles in his shoulders with my fingertips. He ran his hands
over my back, my waist. His hands around my rib cage, I felt so small. I kissed
him harder, parting his lips with my tongue.
Jason made a little noise in the back of his throat. He broke away for a
minute. "How long do we have until Hallam comes back?" he whispered.
"Almost an hour," I said.
"Your room or mine?" he asked, gazing into my eyes hungrily.
Less than fifteen minutes later, we were in my bedroom when we heard the front
door opening. We tensed against each other. Jason clenched his jaw. "I'm
going to kill him," he muttered.
I sighed and kissed him again. "Maybe," I said, "if we're just
really quiet . . ."
Jason kissed me. "He'll kill us," he said.
"Yeah," I said. Stupid Hallam.
A voice called out my name from the living room. But it wasn't Hallam.
It was Lilith.
Stupid Lilith. Grr. Jason and I never had any time alone together. And here
she was, ruining everything.
"Augh," I groaned. "It's Lilith."
Jason sat up. "Guess we need to see what she wants."
Lilith was moving through the house, calling my name. She knocked on my door.
"Azazel?" she asked.
"Yeah?" I said, trying to sound as annoyed as I felt, but finding
that there was no tone of voice quite strong enough.
"It's me," she said.
"One second," I said. Jason and I put ourselves back in order, and I
opened the door. "Hi, Lilith." I glared at her.
"Oh," she said. "Was I interrupting something?"
I didn't answer.
"I'm so sorry," she said.
"It's okay," said Jason from behind me, straightening the edge of his
shirt. "You didn't know."
Why was Jason telling her it was okay? It was not okay. It was anything but
okay. I wished like hell that Lilith was not in my house. "What do you
need?" I asked her.
"I just . . ." she trailed off. "You know, maybe I should go
watch some TV or something."
"No," said Jason, "don't be silly."
Don't be silly?! What was wrong with him?
"It's too late," I said. "Besides, it would be weird with you
here. Just tell me what you need."
"I was wondering if I could use your computer?" she asked. "To
check email and stuff?"
"Fine," I said. "It's in the living room. Knock yourself
out." She could see the damned thing. Why come ask me about it?
Lilith looked at the carpet. "Um . . . I don't know the password."
I sighed heavily, but I gave her the password.
"Thanks," said Lilith. "You guys go back to what you were
doing." She pulled the door closed.
What we were doing? Not bloody likely. I looked at Jason. He looked at me. He
shrugged. "Soon," he said.
"It's been like three weeks," I said.
"I know that," he said. He kissed my forehead. Then he left my
bedroom.
I plopped down on my bed.
"Azazel?" called Lilith from the living room.
"What?" I demanded.
"Do you mind if I sign on to the AOL Instant Messenger?"
"No," I said. "No, that's fine. Do whatever you want."
Clearly,
she would anyway.
Chapter Four
To: Renegade Son
From: Edgar Weem
Subject: Re: Monthly update
Hallam,
I appreciate the update. I know you have a soft spot for Jason, but you must
realize that the boy is not what he appears to be. Please continue to keep an
eye on him. If the situation escalates, especially the violence, it may be
necessary for us to step in. Of course, we'll try to avoid that at all costs.
Edgar
I waited until the last possible second to get to
detention, so I was almost late. Mr. Sutherland met me at the door to his
classroom. He smiled at me. "Hi Azazel," he said. "I was
beginning to think you wouldn't show up."
I looked past him into the classroom. Several other students were sitting
inside at the desks. I didn't recognize any of them. None of them looked
particularly like people I wanted to get to know either. There was a burly guy
with a bandana tied around his head. He was wearing several large gold chains.
One guy was wearing a white tank top which showed off his tattoo-covered arms.
Another guy had greasy hair pulled into a ponytail at the nape of his neck.
There were two girls as well. They both wore large hoop earrings and lots of
makeup. None of them looked at me as I came inside and sat down.
This was stupid. I did not belong in detention. I hadn't done anything wrong. I
was a good kid. I made good grades. I did not belong here with all these
delinquents.
Mr. Sutherland shut the door to his classroom. "Well," he said,
"today in detention, one of you will be alphabetizing my books by
author." He gestured to a large bookshelf which was groaning under the
weight of all the books on it. Mr. Sutherland had to be kidding. "The
others will be scrubbing down my desks."
Ugh. Why did Mr. Sutherland have to make detention into work?
The burly bandana guy raised his hand. "Hey, isn't there some law that you
can't make us do manual labor?"
Mr. Sutherland shrugged. "I'm not really familiar with your American
laws," he said, smiling.
"Bullshit," said the tattooed guy.
"Watch your language," said Mr. Sutherland. "Anymore of that and
I'll have you after school for another day." He smiled. "Now. Would
anyone like to volunteer to alphabetize?"
No one said anything.
"Fine," said Mr. Sutherland, "then, Azazel, I think that's a
good job for you. I'm certain you know the alphabet. I don't know about the
rest of these guys."
Thanks, Mr. Sutherland. Insult the rest of the people in detention at my
expense. That would make this a great, great experience for me. What a jerk!
But I got up and went to the bookshelf. While Mr. Sutherland instructed the
other students in the technique he wanted them to use to wash the desks off, I
began pulling all of the books off the bookshelf. Within a few minutes, I was
surrounded by stacks of books. I sat down Indian style on the ground and began
going through them, looking for authors whose last names were at the beginning
of the alphabet. I was astonished when one of the books I picked up was Holy
Blood, Holy Grail, by Michael Baigent, Richard Leigh, and Henry
Lincoln. I'd read this book sometime last year, in the wake of my literary love
affair with Dan Brown and The Da Vinci Code. It was the book on
which Dan Brown had based his book. The book was extremely intriguing, all
about the Holy Grail, secret societies, and conspiracy theories. That kind of
stuff used to really interest me. Until I met Jason, and I found out that the
Sons were the real thing. Secret societies were interesting when I didn't have
to intimately interact with them. It was weird that Mr. Sutherland had this
book.
I held it my hands, turning it over and staring at it, memories rushing back to
me. It had only been a few years ago that I'd read it, but it seemed like
forever. I'd been so young and silly then. I remembered having passionate
conversations with my dad about the book, trying to convince him that there
really were secret societies behind the scenes, pulling hidden strings. He'd
just laughed at me. Everyone had. In the end, it had turned out that I was
right. I half-wished I hadn't been.
"Would you like to borrow that book?" Mr. Sutherland asked.
He was standing directly over me.
I looked up at him, startled. "Um, no," I said, "that's okay.
I've read it already."
Mr. Sutherland crouched down so that he was on my level. "You have?"
he asked, sounding pleasantly surprised.
"Yeah," I said. "I used to be really into that kind of
thing."
"That kind of thing?"
"Secret societies and stuff," I said.
"Oh," said Mr. Sutherland. "Well, it happens to be one of my
interests as well." He began searching through the stacks of books I'd
made. "I have several books on various similar subjects. A few on the
Knights Templar, some on Freemasonry. I'd be happy to let you borrow
them."
I shook my head. "That's okay, Mr. Sutherland," I said. "It was
just kind of a phase. I'm not into it anymore."
"Really?" he said.
I nodded, going back to the books.
"Is that why you took the bell?" he asked.
"What?" I said, looking back up at him.
"The bell," said Mr. Sutherland. "It has an engraving on it.
Very intriguing. It reminded me of something . . ." He began paging
through the book he was holding. "In here somewhere . . . Yes. Here it
is." He showed me the book. On the page was a picture very similar to the
engraving on the bell. It was a picture of the run rising over water.
My heart started to beat faster. "What is that?" I asked.
"It's a picture associated with an ancient secret society from the
Renaissance," said Mr. Sutherland. "They've long since died out.
There were called the Rising Suns or something like that."
I swallowed. "Really?" I managed.
"Did you see the resemblance as well?" he asked. "Quite
remarkable, really. I wonder where Mr. Dingle acquired that bell."
"I didn't . . ." I trailed off, shaking my head.
Mr. Sutherland smiled. "Oh, of course. You told Mr. Dingle you didn't take
the bell, didn't you?"
"I didn't take the bell," I said. I felt like I was strangling. I could
hardly breathe, let alone speak.
"Of course you didn't," said Mr. Sutherland. "Would you like to
borrow this book?"
I nodded.
He offered it to me. "Anytime that you'd like to talk conspiracy theories,
just let me know," said Mr. Sutherland. "You're a very intriguing
young lady, Azazel. Very intelligent."
I snatched the book out of his hands. "Thank you," I said, my voice
shaking.
Mr. Sutherland's lips curved into a deep smile. "Certainly," he said.
He stood up and went back to supervising the other students.
I looked down at the book he'd given me, my hands trembling. Oh my God. Why
hadn't I seen it before? I was so stupid. Mr. Sutherland. He was from
Mr. Sutherland was a member of the Sons. It was so obvious to me now. He was
after me. And now I had to spend every day this week in his classroom for
detention. Surely he wouldn't hurt me in front of these other students. Would
he?
It made sense. He was here to watch both Jason and me. That was why we both had
him as a teacher. And he had planted that bell in my purse himself. He'd wanted
to get me into detention somehow. He was planning something. What was he
planning? Why had he done it? What were the Sons going to do to me?
He'd even mentioned the Sons. He'd gotten the name slightly wrong, of course,
but that hardly mattered. He'd sent me the message loud and clear. I knew what
was going on. He must know that I knew. I stared at the books I was supposed to
be alphabetizing, too terrified to move. At any second, I expected Mr.
Sutherland to whip out a gun and shoot us all. Any second.
But detention just dragged on. Mr. Sutherland didn't do anything else
suspicious. And eventually, I even went back to alphabetizing. By the time it
was time for me to leave, I had even gotten all of them back on the shelf, in
alphabetical order.
Mr. Sutherland dismissed us from detention, but as I was heading for the door,
he said, "Azazel, would you stay a second?"
No. I wouldn't. I couldn’t. This was it. If I stayed, he would take out his
gun. Calmly shoot me between the eyes. Step over my body. Leave the school. No
one would ever hear from him again. "Okay," I said.
Mr. Sutherland handed me a slip of paper. "This is my address," he
said. "I wouldn't give it to just anyone, but I feel like we have a little
bit of a connection. You're a special girl. I have more books like the one I
lent you at home. Stop by sometime. I can let you borrow them."
Go to his house? Was he crazy? Did he think I was stupid? If I went there, he'd
kill me for sure. I wasn't going anywhere near his house. He should realize
that. Luckily, at that second, my cell phone rang. That was probably Jude, who
was waiting to take me to work. "I have to go, Mr. Sutherland," I
said. "Someone's waiting for me."
"Okay," said Mr. Sutherland, smiling easily. "Just hang onto my
address though. Drop by anytime."
It took all my will not to run out of the room. Instead, I walked. I took very
large steps, and I got out of there as soon as I could. I got into Jude's car,
still clutching the slip of paper that Mr. Sutherland had given me.
"Hey," said Jude. "You look freaked. What happened?"
I shook my head. I couldn't talk about this with Jude. I wanted to beg off work
and go see Jason immediately. Jason would have to believe me now. And he'd know
what to do. "Nothing," I said.
I'd be safe at work, though. It was a public place. There were lots of people
there. The Sons wouldn't risk trying to kill me in such a populated building. I
could go to work. I would. If I didn't, it would look weird. Jude might get
suspicious. I couldn't put Jude in danger.
"What are you holding?" Jude asked. "Looks like you've got a
death grip on it."
"Mr. Sutherland's address," I said. "He asked me to go to his
house."
Jude made a face. "Eew," he said. "Why'd he do that?"
I shrugged. "He wanted to give me some books."
"Oh," said Jude, looking disappointed. "I thought maybe he was
like a pedophile or something. It would have been fun to get him fired."
If I thought getting Mr. Sutherland fired would have made any difference, I
would have been all for it. "Let's just go to work," I said. "I
hate detention."
* * *
When I got home from work, it was after midnight, so I
knew that both Jason and Hallam would be asleep. I was planning on waking Jason
up anyway, though. What I'd found out was too important. He needed to know.
After I'd told him, he'd probably want to wake up Hallam as well, but for now,
I'd just tell Jason. I didn't know what was going to happen. Were we going to
have to go on the run again? I didn't want to. I'd been happy here in
I was shocked when Jude dropped me off, and I saw that the lights were still on
in our apartment. When I walked in the door, I heard the sounds of laughter.
Jason and Lilith were sitting next to each other on the couch. Lilith was
laughing so hard that she was resting her forehead on Jason's shoulder.
I couldn't believe it. Why were they still awake? Jason knew we had school in
the morning. I cleared my throat.
Jason and Lilith both looked up at me.
"Hey Zaza," said Lilith, her voice still full of laughter.
God. Why couldn't she stop calling me that? I glared at her.
"You two look like you're having fun," I said.
"What time is it?" said Jason.
"It's after midnight," I said.
"Really?" said Jason. "Wow. Lilith and I have been talking. I
guess we lost track of time." He smiled at her. "I should probably go
to bed."
She grinned back. "I didn't mean to keep you up."
"It's okay," said Jason.
"Actually," I said. "I have something to tell you, Jason."
"Okay," he said. "What's up?"
"I don't want to tell you in front of Lilith," I said.
"How come?" asked Jason.
"It's about the Sons," I said.
"Oh, that's cool," said Jason. "I told her all about that
stuff."
"You did?"
"She wanted to know what happened after we left Bramford. I filled her
in," said Jason.
Lilith shook her head, horror all over her face. "Wow, Zaza. That shit was
crazy. I can't believe Jason's mother is such a bitch."
He told her about Michaela Weem? He'd been talking to her all night? They'd
been laughing together? I remembered what Jude had asked me the day before in
Mr. Sutherland's class. Was I worried that Lilith would sleep with Jason? I
hadn't been. I wasn't. I trusted Jason. But I didn't trust Lilith. Not at all.
"Yeah," I said. "I can't believe it either."
"So, it's cool," said Jason. "Sit down. Tell me what you need to
tell me."
I really didn't want to tell Lilith about this. It was none of her business.
And if we did go on the run, Lilith was not coming
with us. The Sons would leave her alone. She would only slow us down.
I started at the beginning, telling Jason everything that had happened in
detention. I showed him the picture in the book that Mr. Sutherland had given
me. When I was finished, I sat down on the couch. "So, you think we should
wake up Hallam?" I asked.
Jason didn't say anything.
"Zaza, you're paranoid," said Lilith.
I was not paranoid! I didn't respond, however, waiting for Jason to defend me.
He'd see the seriousness of the situation. Lilith couldn't understand.
"That's not how I'd put it," said Jason. He turned to Lilith.
"She's been through hell, Lilith. She saw her parents murdered right in
front of her face."
Wait. Why didn't this sound entirely like he was defending me?
"Azazel," said Jason, "I don't think Mr. Sutherland is a member
of the Sons."
"But the book," I protested. "And the bell. And I found it in
his classroom."
"So, he's into secret societies," said Jason.
"And he's British," I said.
"That doesn't mean he's a member of the Sons," Jason said.
"You don't believe me?" I said. I was incredulous.
"It doesn't make sense," said Jason. "It's not how the Sons
work. If they wanted me back, they wouldn't have some guy pose as a teacher to
watch me. They'd just come for me. They're not subtle when it comes to me. You
must remember that, don't you?"
"He knows things," I said. "He smiled at me in the creepiest
way."
"He sounds like he was just trying to be nice," said Lilith. "He
probably thinks you're a gifted student. He wants to help you."
I turned on Lilith. "You don't know what you're talking about."
She shrugged. "Sorry," she said. "But Jason told me about the
deal you made. Edgar Weem would have to be stupid to go back on that."
"Don't you see?" I said. "Edgar Weem is trying to find some way
of getting Jason back. He's not going to do it in the normal ways. He knows
that we'd make his secret public. He's being stealthy."
"The Sons would not plant a bell in your bag, Azazel," said Jason.
"Why would they want you in detention?"
"So that Mr. Sutherland could watch me," I said.
"Oh come on," said Jason, "that's really farfetched. You can't
really think this."
I shook my head. Why didn't he believe me? It was obvious that we were in
danger, and Jason didn't see it. What was I going to do? No one was taking me
seriously. "Maybe if you weren't so busy making jokes with Lilith, you'd
actually listen to what I'm saying," I said.
"Lilith doesn't have anything to do with this," said Jason.
"Now, I know you're mad at her about what happened in Bramford, but
honestly, Azazel, she was just as much a victim as you were. Why can't you let
it go? She's trying to make amends here."
"You're right," I said. "Lilith doesn't have anything to do with
this. So let's just leave her out of it."
"You're so stubborn," said Jason.
I stood up. "You used to like that about me," I murmured.
"Azazel—" said Jason.
"No," I said. "Don't." And I walked back to my room,
feeling defeated, frightened, and confused. What was going on here?
* * *
Jason cornered me. "Look at me," he said.
I glared up at him. We were just a few feet from the school building. We'd been
walking for the past few blocks in silence that morning. After our discussion
last night, I just hadn't felt like talking to him.
"You can't just keep ignoring me," he said.
The hell I couldn't. I was good at ignoring people. Jason should know that.
He'd witnessed me ignore my ex-boyfriend Toby for an entire day. Of course,
Toby and I didn't live in the same house, which had kind of made it easier.
Also, I wasn't nearly as in love with Toby as I was with Jason. That made it
hard too.
"I'm not mad at you," he said.
I shrugged.
"Talk to me," Jason ordered.
I focused on a spot of the sky just above his head.
"That's it," he said, taking my hand and leading me away from the
school.
"But—" I said,
then cut myself off. I wasn't going to speak to him.
"We're skipping Chem," said Jason.
"I've already got detention," I protested.
"We'll sign in late," he said. "We were sick. You can't get in
trouble for that."
We walked for blocks, neither of us speaking. But I knew where Jason and I were
headed now. We were going to a park that was near our apartment. It had a
playground, complete with swings and a sandbox. Jason and I sat down on the
swings. I stared down at my feet, swinging idly back and forth, tracing lines
in the sandy soil with my toe.
"Azazel," said Jason. "What's wrong?"
I shrugged, concentrating on burrowing my toe in the sand underneath the swing.
"How long are you planning on ignoring me?" he said.
I shrugged again. I could ignore him forever. He should realize that. I was
good at ignoring him.
Jason got up off the swing. He put his foot in the seat of it and clutched the
chains. "You're acting like a six-year-old," he muttered, gazing past
me out at the playground.
Insulting me wasn't going to get me to talk. It would just make me angrier and
make me less likely to talk to him.
"Azazel," said Jason. "Come on."
I shook my head.
Jason sighed. "Fine," he said. "At least we're getting out of
Chemistry." It was an Even day, so Jason and I had the same 1st period. He
sat back down on the swing.
I glared at him. That was it? He was just going to give up? Didn't he want me
to talk to him? How could he just stop trying to get me to talk? "Even
Toby didn't give up that fast," I said to my shoes.
Jason vaulted out of the swing. "You did not just say that," he said.
Instantly, I felt guilty. I knew that Jason felt threatened by Toby. I really
shouldn't have said that. "I'm sorry," I said.
"No, you're not," Jason said. He folded his arms over his chest.
"Sorry I'm not Toby."
"Oh hell, Jason, you know that's not what I meant," I said.
"Do I know that? Because it sounded to me like you just compared the two
of us and said he was better than me."
"I—" I broke off.
"I didn't mean it."
Jason shook his head. "So why'd you say it?"
I shrugged. "I don't know," I said.
"You meant it," Jason said.
"No, I didn't," I insisted. "I'm sorry, really."
"Lilith said you weren't over him," said Jason.
"Lilith?" What did Lilith know about me and Toby, anyway? "Why
are you and Lilith talking about me behind my back?"
"We're not talking about you behind your back," said Jason. "We
were just talking. That's all."
"God," I said. "She's trying to sabotage me. I just knew it. I
should never have trusted her again." Lilith was saying things about me to
Jason that weren't true. It was making the little issues that Jason and I had
into bigger ones. She was such a bitch. I hated her.
"She's not trying to sabotage you," said Jason. "She's trying to
be your friend. She's worried about you."
"Oh, she would want you to think that, you know," I said, standing up
to face Jason. "Otherwise, she wouldn't be able to manipulate you quite so
easily."
"What?" Jason was incredulous. "I don't know what is up with
you, but every time I talk to you, you just sound more and more paranoid.
Jesus, isn't there anyone who you don't think is out to get you?"
I folded my arms over my chest too. We squared off. "I'm not
paranoid," I said.
"But everything's fine. Can't you see that everything's fine? Why won't
you just let things be? Why do you have to keep looking for trouble?"
"And why do you have to keep pretending like there isn't any trouble to be
found, when at any second, we could be just like we were a few months ago—running in fear for our lives?"
"Let it go, for Christ's sake! We're safe."
"What if we're not?"
Jason unfolded his arms. He put his hands on my shoulders and looked deeply
into my eyes. "I'd never let anything hurt you. You have to know that. If
I thought there was any chance that something bad could happen to you, I would
fight until—"
I ripped myself away from him. "Maybe that's just it," I said.
"Maybe I've been spending too long waiting for you to protect me. Maybe I
need to protect myself."
"From the Sons? Azazel, most trained police officers couldn’t hold themselves
against the Sons."
"You killed five of them, though," I said.
"Yeah, but the Sons trained me," said Jason.
"So, you could train me."
Jason sighed heavily. "No," he said.
"Why not?"
"I just . . ." Jason clenched his hands into fists. "I don't want
to think like that anymore. I don't want you to think like that. I want to move
on. I want to put all of this behind us."
"I know that's what you want," I whispered. "But that doesn't
mean that just because you want it, you'll get it."
"Well, just because you think everyone's out to get you doesn't mean they
are either," said Jason. "You really need to give Lilith another
chance. She's trying so hard. If you could hear the way she talks about you—"
"Which you hear since she's like your new best friend."
"You don't like me spending time with Lilith?"
"That's not what I said."
"Well, get used to it. I just got her a job as the new hostess at my
restaurant," said Jason.
My mouth dropped open. "So you'll see her all the time. More than you'll
see me."
"She's going to be around us, Azazel. It would just be so much easier if
you could get along with her."
I was stunned. Jason was going to be spending half of his life with Lilith. And
what was worse, he was taking her side instead of mine. Was Jason right? Was I
paranoid?
I didn't think so. Somehow, this was all Lilith's fault.
* * *
When we got back to school, 2nd/3rd block had already
started. Jason and I signed in at the office, telling the secretary that we'd
been sick during the night, but felt better now. "Food poisoning,"
said Jason, a painful expression on his face. The secretary nodded at us
sympathetically and wrote us passes to class. Jason and I parted ways. Even
though we'd been arguing, I didn't want to be away from him. Jason and I lived
together, but I felt like too many things kept us apart sometimes. School.
Work. Detention.
If it hadn't been for that stuff, I wouldn't even have had to worry about
Lilith and Jason hanging out, because I would actually be with the two of them.
It wasn't that I really thought that Jason would do anything with Lilith. I
trusted him. But Lilith was so . . . experienced. She was thin and curvy, with
flaming red hair and big pouty lips. When she walked down the hall at Bramford,
she was the kind of girl who turned boys' heads. I wasn't that kind of girl.
Sure, I was sort of pretty in my own way. But I wasn't remarkable. Jason made
such a point of bringing up the fact that I had more experience than him. What
if he wanted to . . . even things up or something? And I was the only girl
Jason had ever dated. Maybe he'd just settled for me because I was there. Maybe
if he had a choice, he'd pick someone else. Someone prettier. Someone with less
issues. Someone who wasn't constantly worried about being found and killed by
the Sons. If Jason really wanted to be normal, maybe he wanted to date a normal
girl. I had so much baggage . . .
I could hardly concentrate on the lecture in my English class. I tried to take
notes, but my mind kept wandering. I didn't want to worry about Jason and
Lilith. It felt tawdry and stereotypical. I felt like a stupid girl. But no
matter how much I tried to put it out of my mind, I didn't seem to be able to.
I pictured Lilith laughing as she sat next to Jason on the couch. The laughter
racked her body, making her breasts bounce. She collapsed against his shoulder,
still giggling. I saw it again and again, in slow motion. It was driving me
insane.
I didn't even hear it when someone called me to the office over the
loudspeaker. Ms. Call, the English teacher, had to come to my desk and touch me
on the shoulder.
I started, staring up at her wildly. Had she asked a question? What were we
even reading in English class?
"They just called you to the office," she said gently.
"Oh," I said.
"Are you sure you're feeling well?" she asked me. "Your admit
slip said you were sick this morning."
I shrugged. "I'm fine," I said.
Ms. Call made a sympathetic face. "You're a good student, Azazel,"
she said. "I know you don't like to miss school, but your health is
important."
I nodded. She was concerned for me. Cool. I wasn't paying attention in class,
and I didn't even get in trouble. I excused myself and went to the office,
convinced that I was in trouble for skipping Chemistry. But when I got there,
they directed me to Mr. Dingle's office, where both Mr. Dingle and Hallam were
waiting for me.
Great. What was going on, now? Was this
about skipping Chemistry? Why was Hallam here?
"Sit down, Azazel," said Mr. Dingle, gesturing to a chair in front of
his desk.
Sullenly, I did. I stole a look at Hallam. He didn't look happy.
"We're just waiting for Jason," said Mr. Dingle.
Jason? What was this about?
Right then, Jason came into the office. I looked up at him, feeling a swell of
happiness at seeing him. I smiled at him. Jason didn't look at me. Great. He
was still pissed about the conversation we'd had earlier. Come to think of it,
so was I. I turned away, the smile dying on my lips.
Mr. Dingle directed Jason to sit down next to me. "When I discovered your
living situation," said Mr. Dingle, "I decided I wanted to have a
conference with your guardian."
Great. Perfect. Hallam was probably pissed at having his schedule interrupted.
"Azazel, Mr. Wakefield tells me that your parents were killed in November
and that he is legally responsible for both you and your boyfriend Jason,"
said Mr. Dingle.
I nodded. Did he want a prize for correctly describing my living situation? I
hated Mr. Dingle. I wished I had stolen
his bell. I tried to catch Jason's eye and roll my eyes, but he wasn't looking
at me.
"So," said Mr. Dingle, "you've had a lot of upheaval in your
life recently. My concern is that you're acting out in order to garner some
attention. Certainly, living in a house with a young guardian must be different
than living with your parents."
Hallam surprised me by saying, "Azazel's not the problem."
What? What did he say? Hallam hated me. He'd never liked me.
Jason turned to Hallam. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Hallam folded his arms over his chest. "Honestly, Mr. Dingle," he
said, "I'm surprised you've called me in about Azazel. Hasn't Jason been
in at least two fights since the two of them started attending school
here?"
Jason shook his head. "Hallam, this is low. If you've got an issue with
me, you should talk to me about it yourself, not with the principal."
Hallam ignored him.
"Well," said Mr. Dingle, "yes, he has. But Azazel stole my bell
and continues to lie about it. I know that you aren't a parent, Mr. Wakefield,
but you have to see that this kind of behavior is inappropriate."
The bell was sitting on Mr. Dingle's desk.
Hallam picked it up. "Is this it?" he asked.
Mr. Dingle didn't look happy about the fact that Hallam was holding his bell.
He nodded.
Hallam turned the bell over in his hands, looking at the engraving on the side.
He raised his eyebrows. "Where did you get this bell?" he asked.
"I bought it at a rummage sale," said Mr. Dingle. "I liked the
picture of the water. As you can see, I like to surf." He gestured to the
myriad of pictures that decorated his office.
Hallam set it back down. "Interesting," he said.
"Stealing my bell was clearly an act of defiance," said Mr. Dingle.
"And it has to be punished."
"So, you gave her detention, right?" asked Hallam.
"Well, yes."
"So, then what did you want to see me for?"
"I was hoping," said Mr. Dingle, "that you would support my
disciplinary efforts at home."
Hallam shook his head. "Discipline?" he repeated. "We're talking
about two very mature seventeen-year-olds, here. Before they became my legal
charges, they were living on their own. I don't discipline them. I do my best
to point them in the right direction, but that's all I can do."
"They aren't adults yet, Mr. Wakefield."
Hallam smiled tightly. "Sometimes I think they're more adult than most of
the adults I interact with." He sighed. "Listen, Mr. Dingle, I'm as
concerned about Jason's behavior as you are. But I don't think Azazel's as much
of a problem as you think she is."
"If you're so concerned about my behavior," said Jason to Hallam,
"why aren't you saying anything to me about it?"
"I'm saying things to you about it," I said. "I wish you
wouldn't fight so much."
Jason didn't look happy. He pointed at Mr. Dingle. "This is none of his
business," he said.
"If the two of you can't behave," said Mr. Dingle, "I'm going to
have to recommend that neither of you live with Hallam anymore."
"For four months?" Jason demanded. "We'll both be eighteen by
May. Why would you do that?"
Was Dingle serious? He'd try to get us taken away from Hallam?
Jason and I both looked at Hallam, trying to see how he'd take this.
Hallam just looked frustrated. "Well," he said to us both, "it
sounds to me like you've got a choice. Either stop hitting people, or get
separated for months in the foster system. Shouldn't be too hard for you to
figure out, should it?"
Jason and I looked at each other. I didn't want to be separated from him. I
reached out to take his hand, but Jason turned away. Slowly, I retracted my
hand.
Chapter Five
michaela666 (04:31:43): If it worked so well, what
kind of results are you seeing? Does she seem different at all?
aird92 (04:32:01): shes alot more angry and paranoid. that count? idk, r u sure
we did it right?
michaela666 (04:32:15): My instructions were correct. I only have your word
that you followed them properly.
aird92 (04:32:30): i did follow them!! look i can't watch her every second of
everyday so i don’t know what shes doing all the time
michaela666 (04:32:50): find a way to watch her every second.
aird92 (04:33:04): doing my best here, k?
I didn't have time to talk to Hallam after our meeting
with Mr. Dingle, but I wanted to thank him for sticking up for me. I also
realized that I wanted to talk to Hallam about the bell and Mr. Sutherland. I
wasn't sure why it hadn't occurred to me before. Maybe the fact that Jason was
repeatedly shooting down my ideas had kind of worn on my confidence. But Hallam
was clearly the person to talk to about this. He'd worked for the Sons in an
official capacity. He knew exactly what they were capable of. He would see that
what I was saying was true. Plus, he'd seen the picture on the bell. So he
would know why I was so paranoid. He'd definitely looked interested in the
engraving on the bell. Hallam was going to help me out. I just knew it.
The rest of the day passed without much incident. I wasn't looking forward to
detention, but I knew that I needed to just get it over with. I also wasn't
looking forward to whatever menial task Mr. Sutherland was going to assign to
us, either.
I spent the afternoon washing Mr. Sutherland's windows along with two other
girls, both of whom smelled like cigarette smoke and swore a lot. I really
didn't like detention. I tried to stay as clear of Mr. Sutherland as I could. I
didn't want to talk to him now that I was convinced he worked for the Sons. But
Mr. Sutherland seemed to hover around me, asking me about my schoolwork or
showing me how to wash the windows without leaving streaks.
He was watching
me. Jason could say what he wanted, but it was obvious that Mr. Sutherland was
very, very interested in me. And I didn't like it. Not at all. I couldn't wait
to get out of detention .Unfortunately, Jason was working, and Hallam taught a
night class on Wednesdays, so I'd be alone when I got home.
I didn't have to work that night, so after detention, I walked home. I had
expected Lilith to be there, so I hadn't been too worried about having an
evening at home by myself. However, Lilith was apparently at work with Jason,
so I had the house to myself. I didn't like that. I really, really hated being
by myself.
When I'd left detention, I'd made a point of having a completely fake
conversation on my phone with Jason, chatting with him about what we were going
to do together when I got home. I didn't want Mr. Sutherland to think that I
was going to be there by myself. If he really did work for the Sons, he'd know
where I lived, and he might come in and attack me. Mr. Sutherland didn't seem
to pay any attention to my conversation. I wondered if I was being paranoid. But it didn't matter.
It was better for me to play it safe. I couldn't afford to take risks.
Once back in the apartment, I locked all the doors. I tried to work on some
homework for about a half an hour, but I couldn't concentrate. Instead, I got
out the book I'd borrowed from Mr. Sutherland. I paged to the picture of the
rising sun emblem and read the copy underneath it.
"This picture," it read, "is believed to be associated with a
society entitled The Rising Suns. Little is known about this society except
that several of its members were executed as witches in the seventeenth
century."
Hmm. Bust. I looked through the index, but there weren't any other mentions of
The Rising Suns. The book offering no more information, I got on the internet.
A google search for rising sun yielded pages on the Phoenix Suns, the Animals
Song "House of the Rising Sun," and an obscure music video on
youtube. Nothing. I searched through the search results a little longer and
finally found a reference to the same book I was holding. Weird. If this book
had referenced the secret society, then where were its sources? Had they made
The Rising Suns up? Or was it just that the Sons had taken great pains to
eradicate any trace of their existence?
Idly, I did a search for "bell secret society." I found out that
there was a made-for-tv movie from 1970 called The
Brotherhood of the Bell. It was about Skull and Bones. It didn't
seem to have anything to do with Mr. Dingle's bell. Jason was right. It didn't
really make any sense for the members of the Sons to steal this bell if it
wasn't associated with them. The picture on the side of it—was it actually an old symbol for the
Sons? Why had Mr. Dingle acquired it then? And why would the Sons want to let
me know they were watching me? It was too confusing. The more I thought about
it, the more confused I got. What was I supposed to do with this information?
I'd decided that I would take care of this without Jason's help. What was I
going to do?
It was starting to get dark outside. I really didn't like the dark. I walked
around the apartment, checking the doors and windows, making sure they were
locked and secure. I thought about my conversation with Jason earlier. I'd
asked him to train me to fight the Sons. Jason had said no.
When Jason and I had first settled down in
He was right. I liked it. We went to a shooting range in
I kept asking about it, but we hadn't been there in a very long time. I really
missed it. When I came home from the shooting range, I always felt better. More
sure of myself. Less worried that the Sons of the Rising Sun were going to get
me. More assured that if they did come after me, I could at least take a few of
them down with me.
Wandering around my empty apartment, I realized that I wanted to go shooting
again. And I didn't see why I had to wait and go with Jason. I was just going
to go. By myself. Why not?
For one thing, I didn't have a car. Hallam had the car. Jason had gotten a ride
to work with a co-worker. The shooting range was at least a twenty-minute drive
from my apartment. I certainly couldn't walk. Dammit. I was going to have to
wait for Jason after all.
Then my phone rang. It was Jude.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Trying to do homework," I said. "But I can't concentrate."
"Wanna hang out?" he asked. "I'll come pick you up."
I only considered for a half a second. "You wanna shoot guns?" I
asked.
* * *
When Jude picked me up, (twenty minutes later, since
he had to scramble to find his fake ID) there was a car in the parking lot near
my apartment with the lights on. I didn't pay much attention to it, even when
they pulled out behind us. When I realized the car was following us into
Was Mr. Sutherland in the car?
It was bad for me if I was being trailed by the Sons, but it was even worse for
Jude, who had nothing to do with any of the crazy stuff I was mixed up with. I
already felt a little guilty for taking Jude to a target range. Jude was
excited about the prospect of going shooting, but curious as to why I suggested
it. When I told him I'd gone a bunch of times, he was even more curious. Why
did I do that? I told him I just liked doing it. Shooting was fun. He was
intrigued. He'd never known this about me. "Girl, you've got all these
layers!" he exclaimed. "Are you sure you didn't steal that
bell?"
I worried that letting Jude further into my life would make him too curious
about me. And I didn't want Jude to get hurt. He needed to stay out of the
messy business of my circumstances. I needed to protect him. Still, going to
shoot guns seemed harmless enough. And Jude didn't seem to think it was too
weird.
I didn't want to mention the fact that the car behind us made me nervous. It
made me sound paranoid. We were going from
I was relieved when the car turned onto
The hardest thing about shooting a gun for me was keeping my hand steady. When
I first started, I wasn't very strong, and just a few minutes of holding the
gun straight out would really, really hurt my arms. Think of holding a book
straight out in front of you for hours at a time. Ouch. Anyway, after some
time, my arms got stronger, and that helped a lot.
When Jude and I arrived,I was worried that it had been too long. That I
wouldn't be able to shoot with the kind of accuracy I had before. But
apparently, shooting a gun was something like riding a bike. I still knew how
to do it, but in my muscles, not my head. My body remembered how it worked. My
body remembered how to stand. My body remembered how to breathe. One of the
mistakes I kept making in the beginning was to hold my breath while I aimed. It
kept screwing me up. Jason taught me to breathe evenly and steadily, and to
pull the trigger as I exhaled.
I didn't have much luck teaching Jude what to do. He was hopelessly horrid with
a gun. He didn't even hit the target the whole time we were there, which meant
that the both of us spent a lot of time laughing about how bad he was at
shooting. Jude was also completely awed by my skill. He thought I was really
good. Of course, I wasn't. If Jude had seen either Jason or Hallam handle a
gun, he'd know I was a complete amateur.
But I did feel better. My aim was good. I was able to hit the target (mostly)
where I wanted to. If I was on the run from the Sons, I'd have a fighting
chance. I felt more confident. Less concerned for my safety. I was glad that
I'd come to the range. And Jude seemed to like it too.
As we turned in the guns we'd rented, he said, "We've got to come back
here and do this again sometime. This was too fun." (We rented guns
because you could shoot guns owned by the range without a permit. Jason and
Hallam had guns in the apartment, but they didn't have permits for them. We
didn't bring those guns to the range. That would get us in a lot of trouble.) I
assured Jude that we could come back whenever we wanted, feeling cheered. Maybe
I couldn't go shooting with Jason, but I could get practice in with Jude. And
Jude was fun to hang out with.
We burst out of the range and into the parking lot, talking loudly and
laughing.
"How long have you been shooting?" Jude asked me.
"A few months," I said.
"That's all? You're like a pro."
"No, it's just not that hard. You can get that good too."
"That'd be kind of sexy, don't you think?" Jude asked. "Don't
you think guys would dig it if I could shoot guns like really well?" He
got his keys out of his pocket as we approached his car.
I shrugged. "I don't know. I guess."
"Does Jason think it's sexy that you shoot?"
"Um . . ."
Jude opened his car door. "He's totally threatened, isn't he? I knew it.
He's such a tough guy. There's no way he could handle it if you were tougher
than he was." He swung into the driver's seat.
I opened the passenger's side door and stood there thoughtfully for a second.
"It's not that," I said, struggling for a way to explain what Jason
thought about it without giving too much away.
Suddenly, strong arms grabbed me from behind.
I shrieked, twisting to see who had me. I couldn't see anything in the
darkness.
One arm pinned my arms to my chest. Another swept my legs up so that I was
being carried like a baby.
And then whoever was holding me was running.
I could hear Jude yelling my name.
I strained to look back at him. I could see him getting out of the car and
running after me and my attacker.
Looking up, since I was closer, I tried to get a look at my attacker. My heart
was thumping in my chest, but I felt an odd sense of calm radiating throughout
my limbs. Maybe I'd been expecting this all along.
I couldn't see anything. The man had a black ski mask over his face.
For several seconds, I did nothing. I let the strange man who was cradling me
run with me. I went limp.
Then it was like a switch went off in my brain. I was being captured. I wasn't
going to stand for this.
I wished I still had a gun. At this range, I could have made a complete mess of
the guy who had me.
But I didn't have a gun. I didn't have anything but my body. I struggled in his
arms, digging my elbow into his rib cage.
He made an umphing noise, but kept running.
"Azazel!" Jude called from behind us.
I kept struggling, and with an effort that wrenched the muscles in my arm, was
able to free the arm that wasn't against my attacker's body.
We thudded against the ground with the rhythm of his running feet. The jarring
was making my stomach hurt.
I didn't have much time to think.
He was grabbing for my arm, attempting to pin it down.
I didn't know why I did it. Lots of other things made more sense. Going for his
eyes. Clawing him with my nails.
But instead, I balled up my free hand into a fist and I drove my fist into the
man's nose.
The man grunted. Stopped.
Blood gushed onto his ski mask, dripping onto me.
He dropped me, his hands going to his face.
Pain shot through my hip as I hit the ground hard. I winced, but rolled over as
fast as I could and scrambled to my feet.
"Jude!" I yelled, running away from the man who'd grabbed me.
I could see Jude ahead of me, running towards me.
He paused, seeing me on my feet.
"Go, go!" I yelled, catching up to him.
Jude grabbed my arm and we raced towards his car. Both of the doors were still
open.
As I threw myself inside the car, I looked back. The man who'd grabbed me was
gone.
Jude started the car, and we screeched out of the parking lot.
* * *
Hallam paced in the kitchen of the apartment, looking
anxious. "What happened, Azazel?" he asked.
Jason and Lilith were apparently still at work, even though it was late. I'd
convinced Jude to go home after dropping me off, even though he'd wanted to
call the police. I'd lied to him and told him that I'd be calling the police on
my own. It was just me and Hallam in the house. I figured now was as good a
time as any to talk to Hallam. I started at the beginning, telling him about my
suspicions about the bell and about Mr. Sutherland. Then I explained what had
happened at the target range that evening.
Hallam sat down at the table heavily when I finished. "It doesn't make
sense," he said.
"I think it does," I said. "The Sons are after us again."
He shook his head. "No, they can't be."
I was flabbergasted. Why didn't he believe me? I'd been attacked. I'd nearly
been carried off. And with all the other evidence I'd amassed, how could he say
that I was wrong? Were he and Jason both incredibly blind?
"They can be," I said, "and they obviously are."
"No," he said again. "No, it's not the Sons style, Azazel. Why
would they capture you? They don't care about you. They care about Jason. The
only way they'd do anything to you is if you were in the way of Jason. And ski
masks and parking lot assaults are not their style."
I thought about what he'd said. The Sons did have a tendency to come in
shooting. Usually in mass numbers. One guy in a parking lot was a little
sketchy. "Maybe he's not working with the full knowledge of the whole
organization," I said. "Maybe he's just doing something covert. For
Edgar Weem or something."
"No, that's not possible," said Hallam. "This has nothing to do
with Edgar Weem."
"How can you be sure?" I demanded. "You and Jason both seem to
think that Weem is iron-clad to this deal you made with him. But I don't think
that deal made him happy. And I can't see any reason why he wouldn't try to
find some way around it."
"It's not Weem," said Hallam. "I'm certain of that."
"How are you certain?"
"I just am," said Hallam. "Trust me on this."
I didn't. But Hallam's tone of voice warned me not to press the point any
farther.
"What else could it be?" I asked. "If it isn't the Sons, then
who could have done it?"
"Someone crazy?" Hallam suggested. "People do get kidnapped, you
know."
"Why would anyone kidnap me?" I asked. "I don't have
money."
"Your grandmother does," said Hallam.
Oh. He was right. I shuddered. "Do you really think that's what it
was?"
My grandmother was pretty rich. She lived in a multi-million dollar home. It
was old money, but it had been augmented by the work my grandfather and Aunt
Stephanie had done for the company my family owned. I had no idea how much my
grandmother was worth, but it might be enough that someone would try to hold me
for ransom because of it.
Had I been completely wrong? Had I assumed that if something bad was happening
to me, the Sons had to be part of it?
But there were other things. Not just the kidnapping. "What about the
bell?" I asked. "I saw you look at it today in Dingle's office."
Hallam spread his hands. "I'll admit," he said, "that engraving
does resemble an old Sons emblem. I've seen it on old documents."
"So, there could be a connection?"
"I don't know," said Hallam. "I'm inclined to think it's a
coincidence."
"I didn't think you believed in coincidences," I said, remembering a
conversation we'd had in November.
He sighed. "Well, it wouldn't make sense not to look into it," he
said. "I'll do some digging. I'll even check out this Sutherland. But I've
got to say, Azazel, his interest in secret societies seems to clear him
entirely. If he were really a member of the Sons, why would he mention that to
you? Why would he want to make you suspicious?"
I didn't know. If he was a member of the Sons, it seemed like he'd try to keep
a low profile. He'd shown me the engraving on the bell. Why would he have done
that? Still, something about Mr. Sutherland really gave me the creeps. I
couldn't exactly put my finger on what, but I didn't trust him. And I felt like
there was some kind of connection between the bell and Mr. Sutherland and the
Sons. I just knew it.
"I'd like it if you checked into him," I said.
"I will," said Hallam. "I can't believe that he stole that bell
and put it in your purse to get you into detention. He sees you every day as it
is in class."
"Every other day," I said. "Maybe he just wanted to be able to
talk to me. He asked me to go to his house. Maybe he wanted to tell me
something."
"Well," said Hallam, "until we know what's going on with this
guy, I wouldn't recommend going to his house."
"I know that," I said.
Hallam sighed, looking at the clock. "Where's Jason?" he asked.
"At work, I guess," I said.
"You didn't call him?"
Huh. Weird. I hadn't. I'd nearly been captured, taken away by a scary man in a
black ski mask, and I hadn't even thought to call Jason. Why hadn't I done
that? "No," I said.
"I half-wonder if we should tell him at all," said Hallam.
"Really?" I asked. "Why?"
"He's erratic, Azazel, surely you've noticed. Especially when it comes to
you. I don't want him out trying to hunt down this masked man. God knows what
he'd do."
That was probably true as far as it went. Jason would be livid. He would want
to protect me. "Well, he can't," I said. "Go after the guy. We
don't even know who he was."
"Does he share your opinions of Mr. Sutherland?" Hallam asked.
"No," I said.
"Thank God for that. At least he won't be after Mr. Sutherland."
"I have to tell him," I said. I couldn't keep something this big from
Jason. It would be like trying to keep a secret from some part of myself.
"I suppose you do," said Hallam, "but try to keep him
calm."
"I will," I said.
"He's becoming increasingly violent," said Hallam. "I'm
concerned."
This was weird, considering that Hallam had spent his time working for the Sons
doing things like slaughtering sorority girls at their request. "You're concerned about his violence?" I
said.
"Of course I am."
"But you . . ." How did I put this delicately? "You've done
things that . . ."
Hallam raised his eyebrows. He stood up from the kitchen table. "Jason
told you about that, then?"
I nodded.
Hallam shook his head. "That was a bad night," he said finally.
"I don't think Jason's ever been the same." Hallam stared at the
linoleum, not speaking for several moments. "But I wonder if there wasn't
something . . . something within him . . . something that was always
there."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"What he did that night," said Hallam. "It was—"
And the door burst open. Jason and Lilith tumbled inside, drunk and laughing.
I wanted to ask Hallam what he meant by what Jason did that night. Jason had told me that
Hallam had shot the girls. He'd said that Hallam had screamed while he did it,
blood spattering his face. Jason had said that he hadn't done anything but
watch.
I turned toward Jason, my brow furrowing. Hadn't he told me everything? I'd
always trusted Jason, but lately things seemed different. We were at odds. He
didn't believe me. And here he was stumbling into the house, late on a school
night, clearly drunk. This wasn't the Jason that I knew.
Jason stopped laughing, but Lilith was still giggling.
"Who died?" Jason asked us.
"Where have you been?" Hallam asked.
Jason rolled his eyes, striding into the kitchen. He flung himself into a chair
at the table. "Geez, Hallam, you sound like you think you're my
mother."
Had I ever seen Jason drunk before? I tried to think. Sure, Jason drank at
parties, but he usually didn't have more than a few drinks.
Lilith followed Jason into the kitchen and sat down with us. She was still
grinning. "We went out for a couple of drinks with some of the people from
work," she explained.
Really?
"Oh?" said Hallam, folding his arms over his chest.
"It was my idea," said Lilith. "I didn't know if Jason would go
for it or not, but when I asked he said, 'Sure.' I think Jason needs to get out
more. Don't you, Zaza?"
I glared at her. I couldn't believe her. I did think Jason should get out more.
I'd said as much to him on numerous occasions. But when I asked him to come out
with me, he always said no. Apparently, when Lilith asked, it was a completely
different story. "Did you have fun, Jason?" I asked him.
He grinned at me. "I had a blast. Lilith was telling me this hilarious
story about you freshman year. She said that you got lost your first day and
you went into the wrong classroom . . ." He started laughing again and so
did Lilith.
"That's great," I said. "Because while you guys were off having
a blast, some guy picked me up and tried to carry me off."
Jason stopped laughing. "What?" he said, his eyes darting between
Hallam and me.
"She's right," said Hallam.
We filled Jason in on the details of the evening.
"I can't believe you went to the shooting range without me," Jason
said angrily.
I snorted. "I can't believe you went out drinking with Lilith without
me."
"That's ridiculous," said Jason. "I wasn't in any danger."
"That's not the point," I said.
"It absolutely is," said Jason. "You went off to
"I'm fine," I said. "I took care of myself."
"Because I wasn't there," said Jason. "You're blaming me for not
being there, but you snuck off without me. You could have asked me to go with
you."
"I did the other day at lunch," I said. "You didn't want to
go."
"But if you just had to go," he said, "you could have called
me."
"You were working!" I protested. "Besides, you didn't call me
and ask if I wanted to come with you tonight."
"It was just people from work," he said. "I didn't think— This
is not my fault."
"I'm not saying it is," I said.
"Yes, you are," he said. "If I'd been there, this wouldn't have
happened."
I couldn't believe him. "Jason, are you listening? I hit the guy. He
dropped me. I'm fine. Nothing happened. I didn't need you."
Jason jerked back, as if I'd slapped him. He didn't say anything for several
moments. "I wish you would have called," he said finally.
"Well, so do I," I said.
"Listen," said Hallam, "it's over. There's no point in worrying
about whether the incident would have been preventable or not. It happened. We
just need to figure out who did it and why. So, I'm going to do some digging
tomorrow. We'll get to the bottom of this."
"It's my fault, anyway," said Lilith. "I really shouldn't have
encouraged Jason to come out tonight."
"It's no one's fault," said Hallam. "Let's go to bed."
But I kind of half-agreed with Lilith. Why had she asked Jason to hang out?
What was more, why had he said yes? The two were awfully chummy these days. I
didn't like it.
Hallam left the kitchen, leaving me with Jason and Lilith.
"I'm so sorry," said Lilith. "I'm sorry that happened to
you."
"I'm fine," I said. I didn't need her pity.
"You must have been so scared," she said.
I shrugged. I'd been terrified. Hadn't I? With all the worrying I did about the
Sons swooping in and terrorizing me, I expected myself to be more jumpy about
the entire incident. But I felt calm. I'd felt calm almost the entire time. It
surprised me. Apparently I was tougher than I thought I was. "Not as
scared as I thought I'd be, actually," I said.
Jason was shaking his head. "Well, I don't think you should be alone
anymore."
"I wasn't alone tonight," I said. "I was before, in the
apartment, but after that I had Jude with me."
"I don't think Jude counts for much," said Jason.
"Well, what do you want, Jason? You can't be around me all the time. We
both work a lot. And we don't have the same schedule at school. Who else do you
think is capable of guarding me?" I couldn't help but be a little
sarcastic. Jason couldn't be mad at me about this. I wasn't the one being
reckless tonight. I'd gone to the range because I wanted to improve my abilities
to take care of myself. It had been a preventative measure. Jason was the one
who'd been out having fun. He'd been irresponsible. It was ridiculous for him
to be angry with me.
Jason heaved a huge sigh. "You're pissed at me," he said.
I rolled my eyes.
Lilith bit her lip. "Maybe I should leave you two alone," she said.
I stood up. "Thanks, Lilith, but I think I'll leave. It's late, and I'm
tired. I was nearly kidnapped tonight. It took a lot out of me."
I stalked back through the apartment to my bedroom and began throwing off my
clothes, letting them fall in a messy pile on the floor. I yanked open my
dresser drawer, took out my pajamas and began forcing on pajama pants.
There was a knock on my door.
I jerked my pajama shirt over my head and flung open the door.
It was Jason.
"What?" I demanded.
"Can I come in?" he asked.
I moved out of the doorway wordlessly.
He walked past me.
"Well?" I said, folding my arms over my chest.
"Why are you mad?" he asked. "If it's not because I wasn't there,
why are you mad?"
"I'm not mad," I said.
"Right," he muttered. He crossed to me, put his hand on my cheek.
I ducked away from him.
"I just feel like I can't do anything right anymore," said Jason.
I rolled my eyes. "I'm tired, Jason," I said. "I had a rough
evening. I just need to rest."
"Because," he said, "if anyone should be mad, it should be me. I
mean, you didn't say anything to me about going to the range by yourself, and
then all of the sudden you're there. With Jude." He said Jude's name like
Jude was a leper or a mass murderer.
I couldn't believe it. I glared at him. "Listen, Jason, there is no reason
for you to be jealous of Jude. He's gay for God's sake, and I'm in love with you."
"I'm not jealous of him!" Jason said. "It's
just that he doesn't look out for you. Look what happened at that party over
the weekend. He can't keep you safe."
"No one can keep me safe," I said. "That's ridiculous. Jude's my
friend. If anything, being around me makes it less safe for him, not the other
way around."
"You spend an awful lot of time with him," Jason said.
"Because he's my best friend," I said.
"When I knew you in Bramford, you didn't spend nearly as much time with
Lilith as you do with Jude now, and Lilith was your best friend."
"Sure I did," I said. "I hung out with Lilith all the time. And
we talked on the phone like crazy!"
"No," he said. "You didn't. You spent a lot of time with Toby,
but not with Lilith."
"Who's telling you this?" I asked. "Lilith?"
"It's my own observation," he said. "Which she happens to agree
with."
"Why are you two constantly talking about me behind my back?" I
demanded.
"We're just talking."
"You know who it seems like you're spending a lot of time with?" I
said. "Lilith. You and Lilith are really pretty friendly lately."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Jason asked.
"Well, it's not like she wasn't sleeping with my last boyfriend," I
said. "How am I supposed to trust her?"
Jason's face twisted in disbelief. "What?" He took a step back. Ran
his hand through his hair. "You're supposed to trust me,"
he said.
"I do," I said.
"So then why would you even say that?" Jason asked.
I was fuming inside. I clenched and unclenched my fingers. I looked away from
Jason, at my bedroom wall. "She's not like me," I said. "She's
all curvy and sexy and experienced. And you're always around her. And you're
always taking her side, not mine. And I just think that she can be very
manipulative."
"I can't believe you would think that about me," said Jason. "I
would never . . ." He trailed off. "Look at me," he said.
I didn't.
Jason advanced on me. He snatched my chin between his thumb and forefinger and
forced me to look at his face. His eyes were just a few inches from my own.
They blazed at me, smoldering. I could feel his breath on my cheeks. "If
you think that I would ever—that
I couldever—do
anything like that to you, or that I would ever want anyone but you, then you
don't have any idea who I am."
He dropped my chin. Gave me one last fiery look, his eyes burning into mine.
Then he left my bedroom.
I stood there for a second, too stunned to process what had just happened. Then
I closed the door. Leaned against it, the back of my head thudding against its
hardness. And I started to cry.
Chapter Six
To: Edgar Weem
From: Renegade Son
Subject: Questions
Edgar,
Someone tried to snatch Azazel last night. That doesn't have anything to do
with the Sons or you, does it? And you don't have any ties to a Liam
Sutherland, do you? I'm willing to cooperate with you, but you need to be
straight with me.
Hallam
Even though it was late, I couldn't sleep. I sat in my
room with the door shut, picking at my bedspread. I felt so alone. I toyed with
my phone, searching through the contact numbers. There weren't many names
there. Jude. Jason. Hallam. Some people from work. I didn't know many of them
well. I certainly couldn't call anyone for comfort. As I scrolled through them,
I settled on my younger brother Chance's name. Chance lived in
I hit send on my phone, holding it to my ear as it rang. It was late. He was
probably asleep.
But Chance answered. "Zaza!" he greeted cheerily.
Geez. For the first time in months, the nickname didn't make my stomach turn
over. "Hey Chance," I said, grinning from ear to ear. "Sorry I'm
calling so late."
"It's no big deal," he said. "I'm up."
"So how are you, little brother?"
"Excellent," he said. "I'm going to
"What?" I said.
"Yeah," he affirmed. "I'm going to a boarding school in
"Whoa," I said. "When were you going to tell me this?"
"I was going to call you," he said. "Soon. I totally was. I have
tons of crap to tell you. And Jason. Hey, is Jason there? I wanted to ask him
if he got the new game for X-box."
"Um ," I said, "Jason and I are kind of fighting."
"Oh," said Chance. "So that's why you're calling me."
"Sort of," I admitted, fighting tears.
"Hey," said Chance, his voice full of concern, "it'll be okay.
You two are awesome together. He really cares about you."
"Yeah," I said, trying to pull myself together. "So why are you
going to
"Well," said Chance, "I asked Grandma about it months ago,
because my friend Palomino got shipped off at the beginning of the
semester."
"Oh, right, your friend, Palomino," I said
knowingly.
"She's not my girlfriend!" Chance said. "Anyway, she's been in
"Sure, Chance. Whatever you say."
"She's not!" he said. "Anyway, Grandma said no. She said she
wanted me close. But then, right after Noah and Gordon left a few weeks ago—"
"Wait," I said. "Noah and Gordon were there?" Noah and
Gordon were my adopted brothers. No one had heard from them since November.
They hadn't even come to my parents' funeral service.
"Oh, I forgot to call and tell you that," said Chance.
"Sorry."
"Where have they been?" I said.
"I don't know," said Chance. "They didn't stay long. They just
came by one day. They talked to Grandma Hoyt for hours in her office. Then we
all went out to dinner. The next morning they were gone. And right after that,
Grandma Hoyt said that it would probably be best if I went to Italy."
"So you'll get to go to school with Palomina, then," I said.
"That's cool."
"I know, right?" I could tell he was smiling on the other end.
"That's weird about Noah and Gordon, though," I said. "I haven't
heard from them at all."
"Really?" said Chance. "Because they told me they were planning
to visit you."
* * *
I called Jude when I woke up and asked him if he could
give me a ride to school. The thought of facing Jason and walking to school
with him was simply too much. I'd cried myself to sleep the night before. I
felt guilty for practically accusing Jason of sleeping with Lilith. And I
couldn't shake the look in his eyes when he'd left my room. He was right. There
was no way that he could possibly be unfaithful to me. It wasn't like Jason. I
was probably temporarily insane. But it didn't help that Lilith was always
around.
I got ready as quickly as I could. Jason and I crossed each other when he was
getting ready to take his shower, and I was leaving the bathroom. I looked down
at the floor and not at his face. He didn't say anything to me. I didn't say
anything to him either.
When Jude knocked on the door, I gathered my book bag and purse and went to
meet him. Jude grinned at me as I slid out of the apartment.
"How come you're not walking to school with Jason?" he asked.
I sighed. "He came home late last night. Drunk. He was out with
Lilith."
"Oh," said Jude, looking sympathetic. "I'm sorry."
I shrugged.
We started for his car. "So," Jude asked as we walked, "did you
call the police?"
Right. Jude had been with me when I'd been attacked. Dammit. Being around him
was probably a bad idea. "Hallam thinks that someone might have tried to
kidnap me to collect ransom from my grandmother," I told Jude.
"No way," said Jude. "The rich one in
As if I had another grandmother. My dad's parents had both died before I was
born. I nodded. "Hallam's going to contact her and see if she wants to
involve the police." This wasn't true at all. As far as I knew, no one was
going to contact my grandmother.
I didn't really think that the person who'd snatched me was trying to get money
from my grandmother. I didn't know what I thought anymore. I wasn't completely
convinced that it was the Sons, exactly. But they seemed like the best option.
Still, I did need to be careful. I scanned our parking lot quickly, looking for
any suspicious figures or cars.
Not seeing anything, I got into Jude's car. We backed out of the parking lot
and pulled onto the road.
"You aren't worried about it, then?" asked Jude.
I sighed. "I guess I should be," I said. "But all I can think
about is Jason and Lilith."
Jude laughed. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense. I mean, being carried off
like that was probably pretty traumatic. You'd want to focus on something
else."
"Maybe that's it," I said. But it was odd. I hadn't found the
experience traumatic at all. Maybe it was because so many other much more
horrible things had happened to me. Or maybe it was because I'd been able to
get out of the situation all by myself.
"It was cool how you just punched that guy in the face, and he dropped
you," said Jude. "I didn't know you could punch so hard."
"Neither did I," I said.
"Really? So you think it was like adrenaline or something? Like when
people lift cars?"
That was an interesting theory. "Maybe?" I said.
"How did you feel?" Jude asked.
"I don't know. Um, calm," I said. "Weirdly enough, I felt really
calm."
"That's awesome. It's probably why you were able to deal so well with the
situation."
"Yeah, but it's strange, isn't it?"
Jude shrugged. "Maybe you're just growing as a person," he said.
"You're stronger now. You and Jason are arguing a lot. Maybe you're
growing out of him."
"No way!" I said. "I'm never going to grow out of Jason! He's
everything to me."
"And if he were sleeping with Lilith?"
"He isn't."
"Maybe not yet. But what if he does?"
I shook my head. "It won't happen."
"What if Jason had done something horrible?" Jude asked. "What
if . . . I don't know, he killed someone or something?"
Ha. Jude didn't know it, but I'd already witnessed Jason kill five members of
the Sons, saving my life. "That wouldn't make any difference," I
said. "None of it would."
"So even if he cheated on you, you'd forgive him?"
I considered. When I'd found out Toby had been cheating on me, all of my
feelings for him had shriveled up. I'd felt nothing for him except disgust.
There hadn't been any way I could have forgiven Toby. But if I found out that
Jason had slept with Lilith, would he disgust me? No, I realized, he wouldn't.
He'd still be Jason. It would hurt. I'd be devastated. But there would be
nothing more devastating than losing Jason completely. "I think I
would," I said.
"Wow," said Jude. "You really like him."
"I love him," I said. "More than anything else on earth."
Jude pulled the car into the parking lot at school and parked. We both got out
and began walking toward the building. "So why do you think you two are
having problems lately?" he asked me.
"I don't know," I said. Why were Jason and I arguing so much? We
never argued much in the past. How had it started? I thought back to the
beginning of the week. Lilith. The bell. Jude. At some point, Jason and I had
stopped trusting each other. Jason didn't believe me when I said we were in
danger. Jason didn't take my side when I didn't want to let Lilith stay with
us. Jason didn't like Jude. It seemed like everything was spiraling out of my
control. I didn't know how to make anything better. "If he'd just listen
to me," I said. "If he'd just believe me, maybe . . ."
"He doesn't listen to you?"
"He was mad at me because I didn't call him last night when I went to the
shooting range."
"But he was at work."
"I know," I said. "And he said that I was angry with him because
he wasn't there to protect me. But I wasn't. I took care of myself just fine,
without him. I didn't need his help. But he wouldn't listen."
"He gets angry a lot," said Jude.
Did he?
"He's always beating people up. I don't want you to take this the wrong
way, Azazel, because I know you really care about him, but are you sure he's,
well, good for you?"
I glared at Jude as we entered the school building. "Of course I am."
He shrugged. "It's just that he seems kind of scary sometimes." He
paused. "You wanna go to my locker or your locker first?"
"Yours," I said. "And he's not scary. Not to me."
Jude's locker was on the first floor. I watched as he dropped off his book bag
and grabbed his History book. "Never?" asked Jude. "He's never
scared you?"
"No," I said, even though that wasn't strictly true. There was one time,
back in November, in a hotel room . . . But Jason had been really upset then.
And he'd stopped when I asked him to.
We were climbing the stairs to my locker, which was on the second floor.
"Maybe I'm out of line," said Jude.
"Jason is all I have," I said to Jude as we stopped in front of my
locker. I opened it. Stared inside at my books.
"That's not a good reason to date someone," said Jude.
I chewed on my lip. Opened my book bag. Exchanged a few books. "That's not
why I'm dating him."
"Okay," said Jude. "I'm sorry. I won't say anything else. I just
worry about you sometimes. Jason isn't like other guys, you know. He's . . .
intense."
Yeah. Jason was intense. And after I'd met him, my life had gotten really
dangerous, really fast. But that wasn't Jason's fault.
We started down the hall to 1st block. It was an Odd day, so Jude and I were
heading to Mr. Sutherland's class. My heart sank. I really didn't want to see
him again. And I wasn't looking forward to having two more days of detention
with him either. Even if Mr. Sutherland wasn't a member of the Sons—and I
wasn't convinced that he wasn't—he was kind of creepy. I could live a happy,
fulfilled life never seeing him again, ever.
But when we arrived at Mr. Sutherland's classroom, he wasn't there. Instead,
there was a different woman, who'd written her name on the board: Mrs.
Clearing. She introduced herself as Mr. Sutherland's substitute.
* * *
I knew exactly why Mr. Sutherland wasn't at school
today. He'd been the man who'd grabbed me in the parking lot last night. He
wasn't at school, because I'd punched him in the nose. He probably had two
black eyes. He knew that if he showed up today, I'd know it was him. I'd been
right! Mr. Sutherland was mixed up in this somehow, and something weird was definitely
going on.
I wanted to tell Jason about it at lunch, but I wasn't sure if we were speaking
yet. Of course, maybe he wouldn't believe me, anyway. I didn't know what else
to do, so I bought my yogurt out of the machine and sat down at our usual table.
I waited, eating my yogurt, to see if Jason would show up.
It seemed like a very long time passed. No Jason.
Geez. He was really angry with me, wasn't he? So angry he wouldn't even sit
with me at lunch? Of course, I hadn't walked to school with him this morning.
Maybe I deserved the cold shoulder.
I finished eating my yogurt and stared into the empty container, running my
spoon around the edges, trying to scoop up the last bits of yogurt.
"Did you ride to school with Jude?"
My head snapped up. Jason was standing over me, carrying his tray. He had a
large helping of spaghetti with meat sauce and a salad covered in ranch
dressing.
"Hi," I said.
"Did you?" he asked.
"Yeah," I said.
He nodded.
"Do you want to sit down?" I asked.
Jason hesitated. He looked around the cafeteria as if he were trying to find
some other place to sit. Then he sat down.
We were quiet for several minutes, neither of us saying a word. I fiddled with
my empty yogurt container some more, feeling very uncomfortable. I wondered if
I should just leave. Maybe Jason wanted to be alone.
"I heard detention was cancelled since Mr. Sutherland isn't here,"
said Jason.
"Yeah," I said. I wanted to tell Jason why I thought Mr. Sutherland
wasn't here, but I didn't. He wouldn't believe me anyway. What was the point?
"This morning, Hallam told me that he was going to be out late looking
into some stuff," said Jason. "I've got to work tonight. So does
Lilith."
So? "Okay," I said.
"I told him it wasn't a big deal, because you had detention, so I figured
you'd only be home by yourself for an hour or so. But now . . ."
Oh. Jason was worried about my safety. At least that was something. I guessed.
"I'll be fine," I said. "I know where the guns are. I know where
the bullets are. I'll lock the doors."
"I might be able to get someone to cover my shift tonight, if you
want," said Jason.
Jason wanted to stay home with me? "Well, would that be hard for you to
do?" I asked.
Jason shrugged. "It might be. It's short notice. I don't know if I could
convince anyone to work for me."
"Never mind, then," I said. "I'll be fine."
"You're sure?"
"Yeah," I said.
Jason nodded. "Just be careful, okay?"
I nodded.
We were quiet again. I picked up my purse and rummaged through its contents. I
felt awkward sitting next to Jason and not talking to him. There were a bunch
of old receipts in my purse. A few tampons. A slip of paper . . . What was
this?
Huh. It was Mr. Sutherland's address. I still had that, did I?
Finally, the bell rang. Both Jason and I got up. I started away from him,
heading to my 6th/7th block. Jason caught me by the elbow. I turned to look at
him.
"Hey," he said, "I just wanted to let you know that I thought
you did a good job taking care of that last night."
This was different than the Jason who always wanted to protect me. He was
actually acknowledging that I could handle myself.
"Thanks," I said.
"Just make sure you do the same thing tonight if something happens,
okay?" Jason asked.
"I will," I said.
"You better. I don't want anything to happen to you."
* * *
I knew that it was a stupid idea to go to Mr.
Sutherland's house. I was convinced he was the man who'd attacked me in the
parking lot, and that meant he was dangerous. I'd promised Jason I was going to
be careful. If I went there, I'd probably be in a lot of danger, and there
would be a strong chance that I'd end up getting hurt. I knew that I really
shouldn't go.
But after I found Mr. Sutherland's address, I just couldn't let the idea go.
Jason walked me home after school. We didn't say much. Things were still
awkward between us. I wanted to say something. To apologize maybe. But just as
I was screwing up my nerve to say it, we got back to the apartment. Lilith was
there. She was on our computer, and she smiled when we came inside.
"Hey!" she said.
I didn't say hi to her. She'd put me instantly in a bad mood. How long was
Lilith going to stay here, anyway? I didn't think I could handle it for much
longer. We needed to find someplace else for Lilith to go. She'd only been here
for four days, and already she'd managed to practically destroy my relationship
with Jason.
"Zaza, I thought you had detention," she said.
"Can you not call me that?" I asked.
She made an apologetic face. "It's just habit. I'm sorry."
"Mr. Sutherland wasn't there, so detention was cancelled," I said.
"Cool," said Lilith.
Jason was walking through the living room towards his bedroom.
"Jason, where are you going?" Lilith asked. "We've got to be at
work in fifteen minutes."
"I'm going to change," he said. "I'll be back in second."
Jason disappeared into his room. I was left with Lilith. We gazed at each other
for a few seconds.
"Well," I said, "I'm gonna go to my room too."
"Wait," said Lilith. "I, um, I couldn't help overhearing you and
Jason last night."
Really? Dammit.
"I mean," she continued, "not everything. It was muffled. But I
was sure I heard my name. Were you two arguing about me?"
I shrugged.
"You want me to leave, don't you?" asked Lilith.
"I . . ." I did want her to leave. But how could I say that?
"No, Lilith. You can stay as long as you need to." God. How had she
gotten me to say that? She really was manipulative, wasn't she?
"Really?" Lilith looked so relieved. She threw her arms around me.
"Oh, thank you so much. I really need this. Thank you."
I didn't hug her back. "It's fine," I said. "It's really
fine."
After Lilith and Jason left, I went and found the gun, just like I'd told Jason
I would. I loaded it with bullets. Then I stalked around my house, locking the
doors and windows, telling myself it was very, very stupid idea to go to Mr.
Sutherland's house.
If I did go, I told myself, I'd bring the gun. I'd fight him off if he tried
anything. After all, I'd fought him off the night before. Who was to say that I
couldn't do it again, if I needed to? I could do it. I knew how to use the gun.
I wanted to confront Mr. Sutherland, anyway. I wanted to know who he was and
what he wanted. He'd given me his address because he obviously wanted me to
come to his house. He'd tried to drag me off last night. He wanted to see me.
Alone. How was I going to find out what he wanted if I didn't do what he asked?
And if I was wrong, then I'd know it immediately. If I got to Mr. Sutherland's
house, and he didn’t have a swollen, purple nose, then I'd know it wasn't him
last night. I'd know if my paranoia was getting away with me, the way Jason and
Hallam claimed it did.
But if his face was mangled, then I'd have proof. Mr. Sutherland had attacked
me in the parking lot last night. And I could use that proof to intimidate him.
I could wave the gun in his face. Force him to talk. Force him to tell me who
he was working for and what he wanted with me. I imagined Mr. Sutherland
cowering in a darkened corner in his apartment, begging me to spare his life.
Telling me everything I wanted to know.
I knew I shouldn't go, but the advantages to going seemed to outweigh the risk.
If I could get enough information from Mr. Sutherland, then maybe we could stop
anything bad from happening. Then maybe Jason and I could stay here. I could
relax. He could too. We could be together again, without all the things that
had come between us lately. I knew, even though it was a bad idea to go to Mr.
Sutherland's house, that I was going to go anyway. I couldn't help it. I had
to.
I brought bullets with me. I brought the gun, tucked into the inside pocket of
my jacket. I brought my purse, which contained the slip of paper that had Mr.
Sutherland's address on it. I locked the door to the apartment behind me, and I
set out to walk to see Mr. Sutherland.
His house wasn't too far from mine or from the school. Actually, he lived in an
apartment as well. It took me about twenty minutes all told, because I made a
wrong turn and had to double back. But finally, I was standing at Mr.
Sutherland's door. I double-checked the address one last time, and then I
knocked on his door.
There was no response.
My heart was thumping, and I was squelching the desire to put my hand inside my
jacket and feel the gun. Maybe he wasn't home. Maybe I was crazy. Maybe Mr.
Sutherland hadn't been at school today because he'd gone on a trip. Maybe he
had nothing to do with anything.
I knocked again.
I was ready to walk away when the door opened.
Chapter Seven
To: Renegade Son
From: Edgar Weem
Subject: Sutherland
Attachment: sutherlanddossier.doc
Liam Sutherland?! This isn't good, Hallam. Not at all. Sutherland is a very
dangerous man who's managed to find out far more about our organization than is
good for him. We've been on the hunt for him since before Jason's birth. Since
we hadn't heard anything in years, I'd almost hoped he was dead. Pass on any
information that you can to me about his whereabouts. The organization would be
very grateful.
I've attached a document containing all our intel on Sutherland.
Finally, of course we're not after Azazel. Let me know if you need to use any
of our resources to track down her attacker, however. Honestly, my money's on
Sutherland.
Edgar
Mr. Sutherland stood in the doorway, his nose swollen
and red. There was a huge greenish-blue bruise spreading from the bridge of his
nose over his cheekbones. I gasped. I'd been right.
"Azazel," said Mr. Sutherland. "What are you doing here?"
"What happened to your face?" I said.
He smiled. "Would you like to come inside?" He stepped aside from the
doorway. I walked past him. He shut the door behind me.
"I assume you're after some books?" he said.
I turned on him, my hand going inside my jacket, brushing the cold metal of my
gun. "Let's not play games, Mr. Sutherland," I said. "I've got a
gun."
He raised his eyebrows, then winced at the movement. "All right," he
said. "You've got quite a right hook, I must admit. I wasn't expecting
that."
So, he was going to admit it, then? Good. That would make things considerably
easier.
"I wasn't expecting to be jumped in a parking lot," I said.
He chuckled. He took a step toward me.
I whipped out the gun, flipping the off the safety as I did. "No quick
moves, okay?" I said.
Mr. Sutherland put his hands in the air. "That's really not necessary,
Azazel. I don't intend to hurt you."
"Right," I said. "That's why you attacked me and tried to carry
me off last night."
"I just wanted to talk," he said. "I asked you to come over
here, but you didn't seem interested in that idea. In fact, you seemed
frightened of me. I didn't know how else I'd get the chance to speak to you
alone."
"I'm here now," I said. "Talk away."
"Might we talk without a gun in my face?" he asked.
"No," I said. "I don't trust you."
He shrugged. "Fair enough. But it would make me a lot more
comfortable."
"You can say whatever you have to say with the gun out," I said.
"It makes me more comfortable."
"Really?" he said.
My arms were starting to tremble a little bit. The gun seemed to be getting
heavier with every second I held and aimed it. I ignored the trembling.
"You work for the Sons, don't you?"
Mr. Sutherland laughed. "The Sons? Heavens, no. I don't work for anyone,
Azazel."
"Why should I believe you?"
"If I worked for the Sons, would I talk to you about secret societies?
That would blow my cover, wouldn't it?"
Funny. That was what Hallam had said. "Maybe," I said. "Maybe
not."
"If I worked for the Sons, I would never have spoken to you. I would have
watched. Undetectable. You'd never have even known I existed. That's the way
the Sons work. You don't see them until they're about to kill you. No one sees
them. No one alive anyway."
"You know about the Sons, though," I said. "And you know about
me? About Jason?"
He nodded.
"So what do you want then?" I didn't know if I believed him, anyway.
But I could play along.
"I told you. To talk. I have information you might find interesting.
Helpful."
So we were back here again, were we? "And I told you to go ahead and
talk."
"Not until you put away the gun."
Dammit. What was I going to do? I could just leave, I guess. If Mr. Sutherland
didn't want to talk, I could just leave. I could put the gun to his temple.
Demand that he tell me, or I would blow his brains out. I shuddered at the
thought. I didn't think I could really blow Mr. Sutherland's brains out. Not at
close range. I'd shot a lot at targets, but I'd never actually shot a person. I
swallowed.
What if he were telling the truth? What if he didn't work for the Sons? What if
he really did just want to give me information?
Slowly, I lowered the gun. "I'm not putting it away," I said.
"But I won't aim it at you. And the safety stays off."
Mr. Sutherland sighed. "Very well," he said. He gestured behind me to
a leather couch. "Would you like to sit?" he asked.
I guessed sitting was okay. I was beginning to feel like I was doing a very bad
job at this. I should have brought Jason or Hallam along. But since neither of
them believed me . . . I crossed to the couch and sat down. Mr. Sutherland did
as well.
"So," I said, "if you're not working for the Sons, then why are
you here?"
Mr. Sutherland tilted his head, as if he were thinking about how to put what he
was about to say. "You could say that I find the Sons intriguing," he
said. "I am a Watcher, if you will."
I arched an eyebrow. "What? Like Buffy the Vampire Slayer?" When I
was a kid, I used to watch reruns of that show in the afternoons.
Mr. Sutherland looked confused. "What?"
"Nothing," I said. "What do you mean, you're a Watcher?"
"I study secret societies. Chart their movements. Try to get close to
them. Try to figure out what it is they're doing."
"So you study the Sons?"
"The Sons are the most secret and the most powerful secret society in
operation. No one knows about them. Unlike the Knights Templar or the
Illuminati, their name does not appear on websites all over the world or in
popular fiction."
"Wait," I said, "the Illuminati are real?"
Mr. Sutherland laughed. "Not anymore," he said. "Not really. No,
the only secret society with any active power these days is the Sons. And they
jealously guard their identity and cover up their actions quite well. Finding
out information about them is difficult at best."
"And why do you do it?" I asked. "For kicks?"
Mr. Sutherland chuckled. He seemed to be finding me quite amusing. That was not
really my intention. I'd wanted to threaten him. Scare him. "The Sons have
their enemies," he said. "The information I provide is valuable, to
certain people. Certain rich people. I sell what I find."
"I thought you said you didn't work for anyone."
"I don't. I'm a gun for hire, if you will, although I don't actually shoot
anything. I work for the highest bidder."
"And who are you are working for now?"
"I'm hoping to work for you," he said.
What? "I don't have any money," I said.
He smiled. "I know that."
"And I can't get money from my grandmother, so don't even think that—"
"I don't want money."
"What do you want?"
"As I've already said, information is very valuable to me. I thought
perhaps we could trade."
"Trade?" I said. "What do you mean?"
"I have things I want to know about the Sons. I think you know them."
"I don't know anything about the Sons," I said. "And I don't
have any idea what you could know that I'd want to know."
Mr. Sutherland smiled. "Someone very close to you," he said,
"has completed an invocation. Does that mean anything to you?"
I was stunned. The invocation of Azazel? My parents and the rest of the
Satanists had attempted to imbue me with the spirit of the ancient Jewish demon
I was named after. It was supposed to give me the power to kill Jason. However,
the invocation had never been completed, because it was supposed to end with my
losing my virginity to a member of the coven. I'd lost my virginity to Jason.
Even though Michaela Weem had said that I had the spirit of Azazel within me, I
knew that the other members of the coven had believed that the ritual needed to
be finished. "Who is it?" I said.
"Not so fast," said Mr. Sutherland. "You need to agree that
we'll trade. I give you a name, and I'll also throw something else in.
Something that has come up over and over again in certain messages I've
intercepted from various members of the Sons, something that I believe has
something to do with Jason. In return, you answer some questions for me."
I considered. What was the harm? Mr. Sutherland might be lying and his
information might prove to be completely false. He might not be who he said he
was. Also, he might use the information I gave him to sell to someone who would
use it for nefarious purposes. On the other hand, he said he sold information
to enemies of the Sons. How did that saying go, "The enemy of my enemy is
my friend"? Could it really hurt anything?
It didn't matter anyway. I was too curious. Who could be trying to complete the
invocation? Who was close to me? I had to know. "Okay," I said.
He smiled. "Good." He stood up and walked to one of his bookshelves,
where he removed a small stack of paper. "Just to show you my good faith,
I'll go first. These are the intercepted messages from the Sons. Look through
them. They're yours."
He handed me the stack of papers.
It was four different email messages, each from names I didn't recognize. Mr.
Sutherland had highlighted various passages. Because I was scanning through
them quickly, I just read the highlighted portions.
They read as follows:
"The Rising Sun is ultimately considered a benevolent force of
unification, but there is extensive association to Shiva in some of the later
prophecies. Why is the Rising Sun associated with Shiva the destroyer?"
"Have not received any commentary from Weem on the Shiva aspect of the
prophecies. Odd, because he usually communicates quickly with me about these
issues. When I spoke to him about it over the phone, he seemed defensive."
"Could it be that the solitary nature of our order will protect the Rising
Sun from the destructive tendencies of Shiva? Shiva uses the power of his
Shakti, the goddess Kali, to accomplish his destruction. If the Rising Sun is
celibate, perhaps this power is neutralized?"
"Also noticing the dual nature of certain gods associated with the Rising
Sun: Balder has Hoder, Jesus has Lucifer, Apollo has Artemis, and on and on it
goes. Does our Rising Sun have a twin or a dark force?"
I looked up at Mr. Sutherland. "What does this have to do with me? And
who's Shiva?"
"Shiva is a Hindu god who is the destructive aspect of their greatest god.
Shiva's consort is Kali, the goddess of destruction. The two are inextricably
bound," he said. "As for what it has to do with you, that actually
leads directly into my first question. Can you confirm that the Sons do believe
Jason is the Rising Sun?"
He didn't know that? "Yes," I said. "They do."
Mr. Sutherland grinned. "I thought so! I was ninety percent sure."
"I still don't see what it has to do with me," I said.
"They think you're Kali," said Mr. Sutherland. "They think your
presence will cause Jason to be destructive."
I furrowed my brow. "What?"
"I conjecture, at any rate," said Mr. Sutherland. "I can't prove
that."
I shook my head. That didn't sound good at all. Maybe I was in more danger than
I'd thought from the Sons.
"But that doesn't make sense," said Mr. Sutherland.
"What doesn't?" I asked.
"Why aren't they chasing Jason anymore? Why is he allowed to live here in
We'd discovered that Edgar Weem had engineered Jason's birth, purposefully
impregnating Michaela Weem himself, so that she would give birth to what he
thought would become the Rising Sun. We were using this knowledge to blackmail
Edgar Weem into leaving us alone. But since this knowledge was so valuable, I
didn't think it was worth telling Mr. Sutherland, so I simply said, "We
know some information about Edgar Weem that he doesn't want out. We're
blackmailing him to let us be."
"And what information is that?" Mr. Sutherland wanted to know.
I hesitated. "I can't say," I said.
Mr. Sutherland's mouth settled into a firm line. "We made a deal, Azazel.
You can't withhold this information from me."
"I have to," I said. "If you know this information, and you sell
it to someone who leaks it, it will ruin everything. We'll have no power over
Weem anymore, and the Sons will come after Jason and me."
Mr. Sutherland shook his head. "I gave you information in good faith. Do
you have any idea how difficult it was to find those email messages I've given
you?"
"I-I'm sorry," I said. "I can tell you other things, but I can't
tell you that."
"You've given me nothing at this point, except to confirm what I already
knew about Jason," said Mr. Sutherland. "You owe me."
"Ask me something else," I said.
"No," he said. "It doesn't work that way." Then he smiled
suddenly. "But there is something, perhaps, that you could do to even
things up a bit."
"I could . . . do?" I asked. This deal was supposed to be an
information exchange. I wasn't supposed to have to do anything.
Mr. Sutherland scooted a little closer to me on the couch. I backed away,
tightening my grip on my gun. "What are you doing?" I managed. My
voice, to my chagrin, sounded high-pitched and breathless.
Mr. Sutherland moved fast. He leapt forward, one hand going to the hand which
held my gun. In a swift movement, he wrenched my wrist. I cried out, dropping
the gun.
Twisting my arm, he pulled it above my head. His other hand grasped my other
wrist, which he pulled into the same position. And his hips settled against
mine so that he pinned me to the couch.
I panicked. I struggled against his body, but he held me fast. I kicked as his
legs with mine. He just laughed.
What the hell was going on here?
"I used to be a teacher, actually," said Mr. Sutherland, his bruised
face inches from mine. "I mean, a real teacher. In
I shook my head. How was I going to get my gun back? What was I going to do?
"Linda Thames," he said, a wistful look in his eyes. "She was so
intelligent. So beautiful. So young. Flawless skin." He smiled, as if
savoring a particularly nice memory.
I renewed my struggles. I didn't like the sound of his voice. I didn't like
what he was saying.
"She made the loveliest noises," mused Mr. Sutherland. "And her
tears . . . But strangling her was by far the best part." He looked me in
the eye, his smile wide and maniacal.
Oh God. Oh no. Oh, no, no, no.
And to think, I'd come here voluntarily. Why was I so stupid?
Mr. Sutherland lowered his face to my neck. I felt the dry pressure of his
lips, the wetness of his tongue.
I made a face, but I didn't make any noise. After that comment about the other
girl's noises, I didn't want to give him the satisfaction.
Maybe . . . maybe, I just needed to keep him talking. If he was talking, he
couldn't . . . hurt me.
"So you killed one of your students?" I squeaked. "That's why
you lost your job?"
"I didn't just kill her," said Mr. Sutherland. "I kept her
locked in a cellar for weeks, and I raped her repeatedly. When I finally did
kill her, she was begging for it."
Oh. I made another face. Could I really keep him talking about this?
"So how did you get caught?" I asked.
"I was sloppy back then," he said. "Too many people knew I liked
Linda. She was my favorite student."
"People know you like me," I pointed out.
"Yes, but I'll be long gone from the
My . . . body? He was going to kill me? Oh, Christ, what had I gotten myself
into? I needed my gun.
I could see it. It was lying on the floor next to the couch, barely two feet
away from my body. How was I going to get it?
"So," I said, "if they caught you, how come you're not in
jail?"
He grinned. "I told you I find good information. I've made my share of
bargains."
Wonderful. Wonderful. "So you aren't scared of the law, then?" I
said.
"Not a bit."
"Or the Sons?"
He laughed.
"When Jason finds out that you did this, he will hunt you down and kill
you," I said. I was serious. It was true.
"I'm not afraid of Jason either," he said.
Of course he wasn't. "Jason will know that," I said. "He'll use
it to his advantage. You've never seen when he's angry. He's unstoppable. He
killed five members of the Sons in the span of two minutes. I watched him do
it."
Mr. Sutherland looked a little taken aback. "Five?" he asked.
His grip on my hands loosened a little bit. I kept talking.
"Five," I said. "And Jason and I took out an entire church full
of them in
"I always wondered about that incident," said Mr. Sutherland.
"What did he do?" His grip was a little looser still.
I yanked my hands away from him as hard as I could. "We did it
together," I grunted as I freed my hands. I clenched them into fists and
forced them up into Mr. Sutherland's body, right below his rib cage.
He made a strangled noise in the back of his throat and his eyes got wide.
I rolled away from him, off the couch, feeling for my gun.
Mr. Sutherland recovered quickly. He was behind me, his arms reaching around
me, trying to pin me down.
I elbowed behind me as hard as I could. I made contact with some part of his
body. Some soft part.
Mr. Sutherland let out a cry of rage. "Maybe you are imbued with the
spirit of demon," he growled.
Where was my gun?
Well, there was no time. I scrambled to my feet. "Think about that the
next time you plant a stolen bell in a girl's purse," I said, running for
the door.
Mr. Sutherland was right behind me.
I tugged open his door, threw myself through it and ran out into the street. I
didn't look back, and I didn't hear Mr. Sutherland running after me.
But I did hear him calling after me from his doorway, "Azazel, I didn't
put that bell in your purse!"
* * *
I ran and ran. There were no footsteps behind me, but
I ran anyway. I ran, taking streets at random, hoping that if he were following
me, I'd lose him. My breath went ragged and quick. My lungs started to hurt.
The joints in my knees ached each time my foot hit the pavement. Eventually, I
stopped, looking around me. There was no one there. And I wasn't entirely sure
where I was.
I tried to catch my breath.
Damn.
What was wrong with me? Was there a big sign on my head that said, "Please
attempt to violate me sexually"? First there was Toby. Then there was the
veiled threat of that guy on the beach. Now Mr. Sutherland?!
I wasn't even that pretty. I wasn't ugly or anything, but if anybody should be
getting all this negative sexual attention, it should be someone like Lilith.
Not someone like me.
But I couldn't ponder that. I was lost on the streets of
And just when I really, really, really wanted to call Jason, too.
What was I going to do?
If I could find my bearings, I guessed I should go back to my apartment.
Luckily, my keys were in my pocket, so I could get in.
But Mr. Sutherland knew where I lived. Was there any reason that he wouldn't
have just gotten in his car and driven there? He was probably waiting for me.
I rubbed my face with my hands. I wanted to cry, but I couldn't. My eyes were
dry. My chest was loose. I wandered to the end of the street to look at the
street signs.
Oh. Well, I wasn't that far from home after all. A few blocks.
I didn't have anywhere else to go, so I guessed I'd go home. I'd be very
careful. Look around for Mr. Sutherland's car. Then, as quickly as possible,
I'd get inside, find the other gun, load it, and hide in a closet somewhere until
Jason or Hallam got home. We didn't have a landline phone, so I couldn't even
call anyone.
I walked the few blocks to my apartment and cautiously approached, looking
around for Mr. Sutherland.
And then I saw Jude. He was standing outside my door, his phone to his ear.
Dammit. Jude was probably calling me. What was he doing here, anyway? Well, if
Mr. Sutherland was around, he might go after Jude. Jude could be in danger.
I broke into a sprint again, snatching my keys from my pocket and feeling for
the one to the front door as I ran.
"Jude!" I yelled as I approached.
He looked up and half-waved, confused because I was running towards him.
"Azazel?" he said as I approached. "Why are you—"
"Don't move," I said, fitting the key to the lock of my door and
swinging it open. "Inside," I ordered.
Jude obeyed, his eyes wide.
Once we were safe in the house, I slammed the door after us and locked it.
"What's going on?" Jude asked.
I shook my head. I dashed back the hallway and went into Hallam's room. He kept
his gun under his pillow, and the bullets in his top bedside drawer.
"Azazel?" said Jude, following me.
I didn't answer. I just got the gun, got the bullets, and methodically loaded
the gun.
"Jesus!" said Jude. "Why do you have a gun?"
I turned on him, angry now. "Why are you here?" I asked. "You're
gonna get yourself killed."
"Why?" he said. "Is someone after you?"
I strode out of Hallam's bedroom, more confident now that I had the gun. I
didn't think that Mr. Sutherland could have broken into our apartment, but I
wanted to make sure. I went from room to room, checking closets and under beds.
No one was there.
"Azazel," said Jude, "you are freaking me out! What's going
on?"
I looked at him, finally. What was I going to tell him? What kind of lie would
keep him safe, but keep him from being so curious that he'd keep wondering what
was going on? I guessed I'd better stick as closely to the truth as possible.
"I went to Mr. Sutherland's house this evening," I said.
"Why?" said Jude.
"I don't know. I got this weird idea that maybe he was the guy in the
parking lot last night. Because he wasn't there at school today, and because he
seemed so weirdly into me."
"So you went to his house?" Jude said. "Why would you do
that?"
"I don't know!" I said. "I guess I just thought . . . I wanted
to tell him to leave me alone."
"What happened?"
"When I got there, his face was bruised and messed up," I said.
"So it was him," said Jude.
I nodded. "Yeah. And then he . . ." I trailed off. I didn't really
want to talk about what Mr. Sutherland had tried to do to me.
"I was right," said Jude, "he is a
pedophile."
I remembered Jude's joke in the car earlier that week. I laughed bitterly.
"Yeah," I said. "He told me that he did this to a girl at his
last job. He said he kept her in a room and . . . over and over. And then he
strangled her." I swallowed.
"Jesus!" said Jude, looking disgusted and little terrified.
"How'd you get away?"
I shook my head. "I don't know, really. I struggled, and hit him and I ran,
and . . ." I looked around again, half-expecting Mr. Sutherland to jump
out at me, his bruised face twisted into an expression of psychotic glee.
"He knows where I live, because he followed us to the shooting range the
other day. I was afraid he'd be here, waiting for me."
Jude looked around too. "He's not, is he?"
"I don't think so. I left my purse there. All my money was in it, and my
phone and—" I broke
off. "Jude, do you have your phone?"
"Sure," he said, taking it out of his pocket and handing it to me.
"Thanks," I said. "I want to call Jason."
I flipped Jude's phone open and stared at the numbers. I started laughing.
"What?" said Jude.
I couldn't stop laughing. The laughter rolled out of me. I doubled over from
the force of it. Could hardly catch my breath.
"Azazel?" said Jude.
I tried to squelch the laughter. I handed the phone back to Jude. Between
giggles, I said, "I don't know his phone number."
It was programmed into my phone. I'd never dialed it. I just always searched
through my address book and selected Jason.
"Oh," said Jude. "Maybe I have it."
"You've never called Jason," I said, still laughing.
Jude searched through his phone anyway. "You're right," he concluded.
"I don't have his number."
Suddenly, it didn't seem so funny anymore. The laughter caught in my throat,
where an enormous lump was forming. And before I could help it, I was sobbing.
It was just too much. Everything that had happened to me, and now not being
able to call Jason. If he knew, he'd drop everything. He'd leave work. He'd
come home. He'd wrap me in his arms. And then, I'd feel safe again. But I
couldn't call him, because I didn't know his phone number! It had seemed so
utterly ridiculous before, but now it seemed tragic. Cruel.
"Oh God, Azazel," said Jude. "I am so sorry."
As if he'd been reading my mind, Jude put his arms around me. I'd never noticed
it before, but Jude had very strong arms. He was nearly the same height as
Jason, and they had a very similar build. I buried my face in Jude's shoulder,
and it felt so much like Jason's shoulder that I started crying harder.
We stood like that for a long time—Jude
holding me, and me crying onto his shoulder, clutching Hallam's gun like it was
my lifeline.
Finally, I quieted. I pulled back from Jude, feeling embarrassed. I scrubbed at
my eyes. "I got your shirt wet," I said.
Jude shrugged. "What's a little wetness between friends?" he said. He
cringed. "Okay, I didn't mean that like it sounded."
I laughed. "Well, that's the closest you'll probably ever get to wetness,
anyway."
He snorted. "Right."
Jude and I went into my bedroom and sat down on the bed.
"When will Jason be back from work?" he asked.
"A little after eight," I said.
It was six o'clock then.
"I'll stay here with you until he comes back," said Jude. "You
shouldn't be alone right now."
"Thanks," I said. "You're a good friend, Jude."
Sensing I'd had enough of talking about what had happened, Jude breezily
changed the subject to something ridiculous. For over an hour, he and I
critiqued Britney Spears' latest video, which Jude thought was
"tasteless."
He sighed dramatically. "I used to love her so much," he said,
"but I don't know what's happened to her lately. She's just betrayed her
roots."
Since I'd never liked Britney Spears at all, not even when I was a kid, I found
this hilarious, and we spent another fifteen minutes debating whether Britney
had any actual roots to betray. I didn't think she did. She was a product of
marketing and record companies. She didn't have anything personal to say.
By this time, Jude and I were laying on my bed. I lay flat on my back and Jude
lay on his side, propped up on his elbow.
He looked shocked. "What about when she did 'My Prerogative'? That was
personal."
"That was a cover!" I said.
"Still, she made it her own," said Jude, shaking his head solemnly.
I threw a pillow at him.
He caught it, laughing, and checked the clock. "It's almost eight,"
he said. "Jason will be back soon."
"Good," I said.
"He's going to be pretty pissed off at Mr. Sutherland, isn't he?"
Oh. Yeah. He was. I hadn't thought about that before. I nodded. I thought about
what Hallam had said the night before about Jason becoming more and more
violent. I looked up at Jude.
His eyes were dark and large like Jason's, but they didn't have the intense
luminosity of Jason's. In Jason's eyes, there were depths. Layers and layers of
pain and anger. Jude just looked kind. Safe. Happy. I wondered if Jason's eyes
would look like Jude's if nothing had ever happened to him.
"Jude?" I said.
"Yeah?"
"You remember this morning when you asked me if Jason ever scared me, and
I said he didn't?"
"Yeah."
"I lied. Sometimes he does scare me."
Jude was quiet. He just looked down at me, his expression concerned.
"Not because I'm afraid he'll hurt me," I said. "He'd never
hurt me. But other people . . . He just gets so, so mad. That guy at the party
he beat up is just one guy. There have been others."
Jude nodded, still not speaking.
"You asked me if I'd forgive him if he murdered someone," I said.
"I know Jason, and if something bad happened to me, he would. He'd kill
someone." He has, I thought, but I didn't say that out loud.
"Azazel—" started
Jude.
But at moment, the door to the apartment burst open, and I heard Jason hurrying
back the hall to my bedroom. "Azazel, where are you?" he called.
"I called your phone three times—"
He broke off as he entered my bedroom. He looked at me and Jude, lying together
on my bed. I watched emotions flit across Jason's face. Disbelief. Hurt. Anger.
And then he put his hands in the air and backed out of the room.
Jude shot me a look. "Um," he whispered. "He knows I'm gay,
right?"
"He knows," I said.
Jude nodded. "All the same, I think I'm gonna go." He got up and
walked out of my bedroom.
"Be careful," I called after him.
"I will," he called back. "Hi, Jason," he said as he walked
through the hall. Jason didn't respond. "Oh," came Jude's voice,
echoing through the house, "you must be Lilith. Nice to meet you."
"Hi," she said. "You're Jude?"
"Yeah. I'm actually on my way out."
"Too bad," said Lilith.
And then the apartment door opened and closed.
I got up and went to my door. "Jason, come in here. I need to tell you
something."
His face was stone, but the rest of his body was twitching. His hands were
clenched. His jaw was set.
"Jason, come on," I said. "This is a big deal."
He shook his head. "No," he said. "I don't want to hear
it."
"You don't even know what it is," I said.
"I know what it is," he said.
"No, you don't."
He wouldn't look at me. "I worried," he said, "I always worried,
because I knew that you kissed me while you were still dating Toby. But I told
myself that didn't matter. I told myself that what we had was different than
that. I told myself—"
"You worried about what?" I demanded.
"But you haven't changed," he said. "And right in our
house."
"I haven't changed?" I repeated, my voice steadily rising. "What
the hell?"
"I don't believe you, Azazel," Jason said quietly. "You have no
idea what you mean to me. If I meant half as much to you as you do to me—"
"What is your problem, Jason? Why are you leaping to conclusions? And how
could you throw Toby in my face like that?"
"You cheated on him with me," said Jason.
"But he had been cheating on me for four years before that," I said.
"But you didn't know that when you kissed me," he said. "And you
said you loved him. You told me you loved him so many times. So many times that
I almost believed it. I didn't think I had a chance."
"Oh my God, Jason, how can you possibly think that about me?"
"You have a pattern. You find your next boyfriend before you've dumped the
other one. Well, I'm not going to give you the pleasure of dumping me, because
I'm going to beat you to it. It's over, Azazel."
What?!
"You idiot!" I growled. "You stupid, stupid, idiotic bastard.
How dare you say I have a pattern? I don't have a pattern. And if you were so
worried about this, why didn't you tell me you were worried? How could you have
such a low opinion of me that you would think that I would do anything behind
your back? You said that I didn't know you, but you clearly don't know me. And
how dare you even think about breaking up with me?"
"Stop it," said Jason. "I just caught you—"
"You caught shit!" I screamed. "Fuck you!" And I was so
angry that I slammed the door in his face.
I stood there fuming for several seconds. I could not believe that Jason
thought such horrible things about me. And that he'd thought them for so long.
He'd been waiting for me to be unfaithful to him, something he apparently
thought I was capable of doing at any time for any reason. And I loved Jason
more than I loved myself. I loved Jason more than life. I didn't want to
imagine a world where Jason didn't exist. I was devoted to him, body, soul, and
mind. And he thought—
Wait. I loved him.
I opened the door.
Jason was still standing there, but he looked a little bewildered.
"Listen," he said. "You and Jude were lying together in bed—"
"Jude is gay!" I yelled. "Do I have to say it a thousand million
times?"
"Bullshit, he's gay," Jason shouted. "I see the way he looks at
you. That guy is about as gay as the Rock."
"He likes Britney Spears. And he paints his fingernails!"
"So?" said Jason.
"So, he's gay."
Jason shook his head.
"Oh, fine, whatever," I said. "The point is, nothing happened.
Nothing happened at all. And if you'd shut up for a second and stop thinking
stupid, horrible, unfounded things about me, I'd explain to you why he was even
here in the first place."
Jason pursed his lips. "Nothing happened?" he asked.
"Nothing at all. He's gay!"
Jason ran a hand through his hair. "I just thought—"
"I know what you thought. You made that abundantly clear."
"Well, it's not like I don't have reason, Azazel," he said. "You
have to admit that."
"Because of Toby?"
"Yeah."
"Toby is dead, Jason. How long do we have to live under the specter of
Toby? And I never felt even a thousandth of the things I feel for you for Toby.
I worship you, you dumbfuck. I can't live without you." I bit out the last
words and folded my arms over my chest.
Jason hung his head. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. He turned to walk away.
"Where are you going?" I shrieked. "Mr. Sutherland tried to rape
me!"
Jason whirled, his eyes wide. "What?" he said. And there was an edge
to his voice. A tinge of threat that terrified me.
Chapter Eight
aird92 (08:12:45): what the hell is going on? do u
have anything to do with what happened to her?
michaela666 (08:13:08): What happened?
aird92 (08:13:22): sutherland. is he on our payroll or not?
michaela666 (08:14:02): Oh, no. Don't tell me that he did something.
aird92 (08:14:12): i thought he was under control. u said that he wouldnt mess
everything up. or is this part of some plan u havent told me about?
michaela666 (08:14:37): I should have known that bastard couldn't keep his dick
in his pants. Dammit! Tell me everything.
By the time Hallam got home, I was nearly frantic.
Lilith had a cell phone, and she had Jason's number. We'd called it fifty
times, but Jason wasn't picking up. Every time we called, it just went to
voicemail. We left messages, each one more desperate, but it didn't seem to
make any difference.
Once I'd told Jason what had happened with Mr. Sutherland, he'd taken Hallam's
gun from me and left the house. He'd been angry. He hadn't said anything, but I
could tell from the way he walked.
I'd begged him not to leave. I didn't want him trying to tangle with Mr.
Sutherland. I didn't want Jason to get hurt. And I didn't like the look in
Jason's eyes. It scared me. It reminded me too much of the look Mr. Sutherland
had gotten in his eyes when he'd described strangling that girl named Linda.
Jason had swept out of the house, fierce determination written all over his
face. And . . . something else. He looked . . . I don't know. Insane.
Lilith had been frightened too. "Jason's kind of intense, isn't he?"
she'd said in a small voice.
Hallam got back soon after Jason did. I feverishly filled him in on what had
happened. He wasn't happy with me.
"Azazel, if I'd thought there was a chance in hell that you'd go to see
that man, I would have contacted you sooner," he said. "Liam
Sutherland is a wanted criminal in seven different countries. He's a rapist and
murderer, and he has powerful friends. How stupid could you be?"
"I know," I said. "I'm sorry."
When I told him that Jason had gone after Mr. Sutherland, Hallam got nearly as
frantic as I was. "How could you let him go?" he demanded.
"We tried to stop him," said Lilith.
"We have to find him," Hallam said.
The three of us piled into the car. We went to Mr. Sutherland's house. Hallam
made us stay in the car, because he didn't have a gun. (I'd lost one in Mr.
Sutherland's apartment, and Jason had the other one.) When he returned, he told
us that the apartment had been broken into and searched, but that there was no
sign of Jason or Mr. Sutherland.
"Mr. Sutherland probably went on the run after I left," I said.
"He knew that I knew where he lived."
We checked the airport, to see if Mr. Sutherland was there. The airline
personnel wouldn't disclose the names of passengers, and we weren't sure that
Mr. Sutherland would even be travelling under his own name. Hallam bought a
ticket for a plane, but he had to go through security to search the airport. It
didn't take him too long. The Sarasota-Bradenton airport was not that large,
and it didn't take too long to get through security. But they weren't there.
Then we had to wait for Hallam to get a refund on his ticket.
By this time, it was getting pretty late. We checked some bus stations, but
couldn't find anything.
"He might have just driven out of town, anyway," Hallam said.
"Or maybe he went to
"Well, Jason probably didn't find him, did he?" I asked.
Hallam didn't know. "Jason had a head start. Maybe he pulled him out of
the airport. I don't know."
Finally, we went back home. It was after midnight. Hallam and Lilith were both
exhausted and went to bed. Hallam told me that I should do the same. I tried. I
put on my pajamas and lay awake in the dark. But I couldn't sleep. I couldn't
stop worrying about Jason. Just because I'd been able to get away from Mr.
Sutherland didn't mean that he would. I'd mostly been lucky. A few good shots.
And Mr. Sutherland had underestimated me. He'd thought I was an easy mark. I
didn't know how much of a match he'd be for Jason.
And even if Jason didn't get hurt, what if he . . . ?
I didn't know why it bothered me so much. But the wild look in Jason's eyes
when he'd left the apartment was just scary. I didn't know why Jason got like
that. Why he felt that he had to protect me so much. Why he felt the need to
punish anyone who hurt me.
The hours crawled by. It was dark outside. I lay in bed, staring at the
ceiling, squeezing my eyes shut every time an image of Jason broken and
bleeding appeared in my head. But it didn't work, because I could see the
images even with my eyes closed. Nothing worked.
At around four in the morning, I heard the door to the apartment open. I jumped
out of bed and raced into the living room. Jason stood in the living room in
the darkness. He dropped his keys on the floor.
Lilith was sleeping on the couch, and she stirred faintly, mumbling something
incoherent.
I didn't want to wake her up.
I took Jason's hands to lead him out of the living room. They were wet, but not
with water. It was too thick for that. Too warm.
It was blood. I knew it.
Jason was bleeding. My worst fears realized, I led him to the bathroom. I
closed the door after us and flicked on the light.
Jason's hair was plastered to his forehead with blood and sweat. There were red
streaks on his cheeks and chin. His clothes were spattered with it. And his
hands . . .
His hands were covered in blood.
Jason looked up at me from under his stringy, matted hair. His eyes were dull.
He looked through me.
I put my hand to my mouth to stifle the little cry that was threatening to
escape my lips.
"Jason, what happened?" I whispered.
He didn't answer. Didn't acknowledge that I'd spoken.
What had happened to him?
Shaking, I wet a washcloth in the sink and began to gently wipe away the blood,
looking for his wounds.
There weren't any.
I swallowed. This wasn't Jason's blood.
Jason wasn't hurt.
Oh God. What had he done? And if he'd done it because of me, was it my fault?
Jason picked up his hands. It was the first real movement I'd seen him make. He
looked at them. I'd tried to wipe away the blood, but it gathered in the
creases of his palms. Underneath his fingernails.
"So much," he murmured. "So much blood."
Oh. Oh, God.
I didn't know what to do. "We'll get rid of it," I said finally.
"We'll wash it off."
But there was a lot of it. It was all over him.
I stripped off his ruined clothes and started the shower. I got him inside, but
once there, he wouldn't move. He just stood unmoving under the water. I needed
to help him, so I got in the shower with him.
I scrubbed him and scrubbed him. Scrubbed away every trace of blood. Washed his
hair. Watched the blood wash down the drain, red and pink, swirling away from
us like it had never existed.
"Azazel," Jason said suddenly, as if he'd just recognized me. He
caught my head with both hands, looked deeply into my eyes like he was lost,
and he didn't know how to find himself.
"I'm here," I said.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I don't know what I . . ."
"It's okay," I said. "Whatever it is. It's okay. I love
you."
"I need you," he said, and he kissed me.
His mouth was on mine insistently. I felt like he wanted to devour me, like he
was pulling strength from my mouth.
I broke away. "Jason," I said breathlessly. "Jason, what
happened?"
He looked at me. He looked away. "Nothing can ever happen to you," he
told the shower walls. "Without you, I'm nothing."
He looked back at me, and his eyes were filled with tears.
I pulled him close, pressing my body against his. He put his lips on mine
again. I felt his hands move on my skin, stroking me through the streams of
water that rushed over us.
And because I didn't know what else to do, because his hands were urgent, because
I felt vulnerable and frightened, I touched him back.
The water poured over us, pounding against our naked skin. And we did the best
we could to comfort each other the best we knew how. Jason gave me his hurt and
confusion and fear and guilt, and I took it into my body. And as we crashed
into each other, I gave it all to the water. I let it wash down the drain with
Jason's tears.
* * *
My alarm went off at 6:15 the next morning. Jason
stirred and then sat straight up in bed. "What?" he said, his eyes searching
the room.
I reached over and turned the alarm off. "It's just the alarm," I
murmured to him sleepily.
Jason lay back down. He drew me into his arms. He was wide awake, even though
we'd only been asleep for a little over an hour. Jason could always be alert at
a moment's notice, no matter how little sleep he'd gotten. "Are you
getting up?" he asked me.
"Skipping school," I mumbled. I fell asleep again almost immediately,
snug and safe in Jason's embrace.
When I woke up again, it was 9:30, and Hallam was standing over my bed. His
arms were folded over his chest. He wasn't saying anything. I was still in
Jason's arms, and Jason was still asleep.
I looked at Hallam. He looked pissed. "Good morning?" I said.
"When did he get here?" Hallam asked. Damn. He sounded pissed too.
"Four or so," I said.
"You know I don't like it when the two of you sleep in the same bed,"
said Hallam.
How could he possibly be concerned about Jason and I having sex after what had
happened last night? It seemed like the least important thing to focus on.
"He was . . ." I searched for a way to explain what Jason had been
like last night. "He needed me," I finally settled on.
"Wake him up," said Hallam.
"We didn't get to sleep until nearly five," I said.
"Oh, spare me the details of your adolescent lust," Hallam said.
I glared at Hallam. "He needs to rest," I said.
"Wake him up," said Hallam. "And then get dressed and meet me in
the kitchen."
"Hallam," I protested.
But Hallam was already going out the door to my bedroom.
I sighed. I looked at Jason, sleeping next to me. His face looked so peaceful.
I didn't want to wake him. Lying next to him like this, I could hear his heart
beating, steady and warm against my ear. If we just stayed like this, I could
pretend that everything was normal and safe. I could pretend that Jason hadn't
come home covered in blood last night. We could just be . . .
What could we be? There was nothing normal about Jason and me. Normal kids
didn't live together with a twenty-two-year-old ex-member of a secret society.
Normal kids didn't deal with death and danger as much as we did. And normal
kids didn't feel the way about each other that we felt about each other.
I stroked his cheek. He stirred slightly, his lips parting. I kissed his temple,
his forehead. His eyes fluttered open.
"Azazel," he whispered.
"Hey," I replied, kissing his lips.
He held me close. "This is nice. Waking up with you."
"Mmm," I agreed.
He gazed into my eyes, a small contented smile on his lips. I smiled back. Was
there any reason that we had to move? Couldn't we just stay here, this close?
Hallam pounded on my door. "I mean it, Azazel!" he said. "Both
of you get out here."
I sighed. "Hallam wants to talk to us."
"Yeah," said Jason. "Sounds like it." He started to push
the covers aside, then stopped. "Can you get me some clothes from my
room?"
I laughed. "Sure," I said. I shrugged into my pajamas and opened the
door to my bedroom. Hallam was standing outside my door.
"I'm getting some clothes for Jason," I told him.
Hallam pushed past me into my bedroom. As I ducked into Jason's room to grab
him a t-shirt and some pants, I heard Hallam yelling at Jason.
"This is the second time this week I've caught the two of you in the same
bed," he was saying.
I sighed, rushing back with the clothes as quickly as I could. Just when I
thought Hallam was starting to be kind of cool, he turned into the same
prudish, overbearing jerk he'd always been.
"Jesus, Hallam," Jason was saying as I reentered the room, "can
you give me a second to put on some pants?"
"Don't act like that," Hallam said. "You were off doing God
knows what last night, and we were all quite concerned. Beside ourselves,
really. Just because Azazel's forgiven you doesn't mean that I have. So, don't
pretend for a second that this isn't serious."
I handed Jason his clothes and sat down on the bed. Hesitantly, I said,
"What did happen last night, Jason?"
"Oh," said Hallam sarcastically, "so you didn't ask him that
before the two of you started screwing then?"
Screwing? That wasn't a word I'd heard Hallam use before. He must be pretty
angry.
"It wasn't like that," I said, studying my hands. "I had to . .
." It wasn't any of Hallam's business.
Jason was holding his clothes. "Can you give me a second, Hallam?" he
asked.
"A second?"
"Yeah. To get dressed. Or are you jealous that Azazel got to see my penis,
and you didn't?"
I stood up, throwing a confused look at Jason. He didn't sound like himself. He
usually wasn't so flip.
Hallam rolled his eyes. "Oh, by all means, if you need your privacy."
He stalked out of the room, leaving the door open.
"Jason," I said.
"What?" he said, yanking his pants over his feet.
"Where were you?"
He shook his head.
"You have to tell me," I said. "I washed all that blood off of
you. Why did—"
"Not yet," Jason interrupted me. "I don't want to talk about it.
Yet."
I watched him for a minute. He wasn't looking at me. Then I followed Hallam out
of the bedroom.
I found Hallam in the kitchen. He was sitting at the table with his head in his
hands. I stopped in the doorway, feeling a little like I was intruding.
"Where's Lilith?" I asked.
Hallam dropped his hands and looked up at me. "I sent her out for a few
hours when I realized Jason was back."
"But is that safe?" I asked.
"I assume whatever threat Mr. Sutherland presented is neutralized,"
said Hallam. "Isn't that right, Jason?"
I looked over my shoulder. Jason was standing behind me. His hands were shoved
in his pockets. He was staring at the floor.
"Well?" Hallam prompted. "Isn't that right?"
Jason raised his eyes to meet Hallam's. "Look," he said, "do we
really have to do this right now? I mean, I'm kind of hungry. Maybe we should
get breakfast or something."
Hallam snorted. "Breakfast," he repeated. He gestured to the other
chairs at the table. "Both of you come in here and sit down."
As we did so, I was oddly reminded of sitting down with my parents in October.
They'd found out that Jason and I had snuck out to a party and that Jason had
beaten someone up. I'd been so certain they were going to punish me, but
instead, Jason had turned their own words against them. I remembered how I'd
realized in that moment that Jason was different. He wasn't like other guys. He
was more serious, more intelligent, more sure of himself. I looked at him now,
and I still saw all of that. I reached for his hand. He squeezed my fingers
briefly and then dropped my hand.
"You two are too young to be having the kind of sexual relationship that
you seem to want to have," said Hallam.
Oh God. Not this again. "What's the big deal?" I said. "Most
kids our age are having sex."
"Most kids your age are not living together," said Hallam.
"If they are," I said, "I bet they're sleeping in the same
bed."
"Besides," said Jason, "we might be young, but we've been
through a lot together. You can't tell me that we behave like normal seventeen
year olds."
Hallam shrugged. "I believe that Sunday morning, you were telling me that
the reason that Azazel was drinking so much was because you were normal
seventeen-year-olds."
I rolled my eyes. "I don't understand why this bugs you so much,
Hallam," I said. "I know that you were part of the Sons, and that
they were all celibate or whatever, but why do you care so much what we
do?"
"I'm your guardian," said Hallam.
"But you aren't our parent," I said. "And we'll both be eighteen
in a few months."
"We were together before you were even part of our lives," said
Jason. "We don't need this kind of interference."
Hallam shook his head. "You don't understand. It's not about the sex. I
couldn't care less what the two of you are doing. It's about how close the two
of you are. It's not healthy."
What? I tried to look at Jason and see his reaction that statement, but Jason
was still staring at the table. "We're in love," I said to Hallam.
"Of course we're close."
"No," said Hallam. "You two aren't in love. You're obsessed with
each other. When I look at you, it's like seeing two parts of one entity or
something. It's disturbing."
Disturbing?! "You know, I don't think you're really qualified to talk much
about love," I said to Hallam. "When have you ever witnessed
it?"
"I know that the way Jason reacts to threats to your safety is very, very
frightening. It's not normal. It's dangerous. For all of us."
I didn't say anything. Jason didn't either.
"Look at me, Jason," said Hallam.
Jason didn't.
"Jason," said Hallam.
Jason looked up. "What?" he asked.
"I need you to tell me what you did last night."
Jason shook his head. "I don't want to talk about this."
"I don't care," said Hallam. "We have to talk about this.
Incidentally, where is my gun? Did you leave it somewhere with your
fingerprints all over it?"
"I lost it," Jason said again.
"Lost it?" said Hallam.
"Jason," I said softly, "you do need to tell us what happened. I
can't handle you running off like that."
Jason buried his face in his hands.
"Did you find Sutherland?" asked Hallam.
"Yes," said Jason.
"Where was he?"
"In his apartment," said Jason. "He didn't even try to
run."
"And then what happened?" asked Hallam.
"I don't –" Jason said. "Does it really matter?"
"Fine," said Hallam. "Then tell me this. What did you do with
it?"
The gun? What did Hallam mean, "it"?
"Hallam, it's confusing," Jason said, dragging his fingers over his
face. "It's all blurry, okay?"
Hallam stood up. He leaned across the table. "I need to know. I need to
know, because I need to know if anyone's going to find it. You forget, Jason,
that we don't have the Sons to clean up our messes anymore. If you're going to
run off all half-cocked, and you don't clean up after yourself, then we're all
going to have problems. All of us. Azazel included, you understand that?"
Jason ran a hand through his hair. "Hallam, please don't—"
"Jason," Hallam interrupted, his voice even and low, "what did
you do with the body?"
I gasped, sitting back in my chair. Body?
Jason got out of his chair. He walked out of the kitchen.
Hallam went after him. I didn't move. I couldn't move.
"Answer me, Jason," he said.
Jason came back into the kitchen. He sat down next to me. He took both of my
hands in his.
"Is it true?" I asked him. "Did you . . ."
"No," said Jason. "No, I didn't."
"Don't lie to her," said Hallam, clapping a hand onto Jason's
shoulder.
Jason dropped my hands. He didn't look at Hallam. He didn't look at me.
"You saying you didn't kill him?" asked Hallam. "Then where is
he? If he's alive, he's more of a problem than if he's dead."
Jason shook his head, still staring into space. "I remember that he had a
gun, and that I kicked it out of his hands. I remember that I hit him. I hit
him a lot. I remember that he was bleeding. He was bleeding everywhere. I just
kept hitting him."
"Is he dead?"
"I don't . . ." Jason started shaking, all over.
I looked up at Hallam. "Don't make him—"
Hallam silenced me with a look. "Pull yourself together. I taught you
better than this."
Jason stood up abruptly, knocking over his chair. He advanced on Hallam. Hallam
backed up. "That's right, you did, didn't you?" said Jason. "You
taught me how to do this. You showed me." As he talked, he kept moving
forward. Hallam kept backing away from him until he was against the counter
over the kitchen sink. Jason just kept talking, angrily spitting his words into
Hallam's face. "That's why you're so angry with me now, isn't it? Because
you think it's your fault. You think that if you hadn't ever showed me what to
do, I'd never have done any of this."
"I'm not responsible for your actions, Jason," Hallam said quietly,
but he looked alarmed. "You're the only one who's responsible for what
you've done."
"What I've done, huh? Because whatever it is that I've done is so
dangerous to all of us?"
"Yes," said Hallam.
"Three things, Hallam," said Jason. "First of all, Sutherland's
not a problem anymore. He's taken care of."
I felt a little chill run through my body. What did that mean?
"Second," Jason continued, "while you're going on about how
horrible it is that I'm behaving the way I am, you seem to be forgetting one
important thing. I saved your life. You remember that?"
"Jason—" Hallam
sounded a little nervous.
"Remember that?"
"Yes."
"And you promised me that you'd always have my back too. Remember
that?"
"Yes."
"Good," said Jason. "Third, you can't tell me where to
sleep."
Jason didn't look at me as he swept out of the kitchen. I heard the door to our
apartment slam. I winced.
Hallam was still standing against the counter. His face was white. I swallowed,
looking at him.
"Well," I said. "That went well."
* * *
Hallam left the house pretty quickly after Jason did.
He didn't say much. He just gathered his things and took off. Jason hadn't
taken the car when he left, so I didn't think that he'd gone far. I was
worried, but not as worried as I had been the night before. I didn't have a cell
phone, so I couldn't call Jason. I ate some cereal in the kitchen, wandered
around the house. I didn't know what to do. It felt like lately, all I did was
worry about things. I was exhausted. I hadn't gotten much sleep the night
before either.
I lay back down, finally. And within a few minutes, I went back to sleep. My
sleep was dreamless. I felt like I'd been pulled into a black hole. When I woke
up, I could hear voices floating down the hall from the living room. It was
Lilith and Jason.
I stirred. Opened my eyes. Jason was home. I should go to him.
Then I heard my name.
"I don't know what to do about Azazel," Jason was saying. "I
love her so much, but I don't know if she loves me as much as I love her."
What? I froze on my bed, unable to believe he doubted my feelings for him.
"Why don't you know?" Lilith asked.
"I don't feel like she really had a choice," Jason said. "Her
entire world got destroyed. I was all she had. I don't know if she really loves
me or if she's just clinging to anything she can cling to."
"You think she's clingy?"
"No," said Jason. "No, just the opposite, really. She's very
independent. She wants to party all the time. She wants to protect herself.
Wanting to go shooting and all of that. It's like she's trying to make sure she
doesn't need me. Like she's preparing to leave or something."
No! It wasn't that at all. It was that I didn't want to slow Jason down. I
didn't want him to become hurt because he had to protect me. Why did Jason
doubt me? Had I ever given him cause?
"The partying bothers you, huh?" asked Lilith.
"No, not really," said Jason. "I understand that she wants to
have fun."
"I always felt like Zaza was a powderkeg," said Lilith. "Back in
Bramford, I got the impression that the only thing holding her back was Toby
and her family. If she could have let loose then, I think she would have. Big
time."
That wasn't true. I wasn't a powderkeg.
"So, it's good that she's doing it now, then," said Jason.
"She's free."
"Is it good?" Lilith asked.
"Yeah," said Jason. "It's fine. I just worry about her, you
know. I worry about her a lot. She's very important to me."
"You don't worry that she might explode?" Lilith asked.
"Explode?"
Explode?!
"That it might end up being too much. That she'll go overboard with the
partying and drinking. She'll self-destruct," said Lilith.
I wasn't anywhere close to self-destructing.
"Why?" said Jason, sounding concerned. "Do you think she
might?"
"I haven't really been able to talk to her," said Lilith. "But
she is sneaking around a lot, isn't she? To the shooting range, and then to Mr.
Sutherland's?"
"That's true," said Jason.
"She's lying. She's trying to hide her behavior, because she knows it's
erratic," said Lilith.
Bull. Lilith was full of crap.
"Maybe you're right," said Jason.
God. I should get up right now and let them know that I was listening to their
conversation. I wanted to shut Lilith up. But for some reason, I was driven to
keep listening. Some kind of morbid curiosity, maybe.
"And have you noticed that both of those times, she ended up alone with
Jude?" Lilith asked.
What was she doing? Was she trying to make Jason jealous of me? Was this why he
was acting the way he was? Was Lilith poisoning him?
"You met him," Jason said. "Do you think he's gay?"
"No way," said Lilith. "That boy's eyes settled on my tits for
like five whole seconds. He's not gay."
Jason laughed. "Well, I don't know if that's conclusive, Lil."
Lil?! He was calling her by a nickname?
"Gay guys don't like tits," she said.
"Maybe not," he said, "but I think it's tough for anyone not to
. . . stare at you."
"Stare at me?" Lilith giggled.
"You're kind of . . . well-endowed," Jason said.
Oh. My. God. Jason was talking to Lilith about her breasts? Now I couldn't move. I was beginning to feel very,
very sick.
"Maybe," said Lilith, "but the look that Jude gave me was a very
ungay look."
"I know what you mean," said Jason. "I really don't like the way
he looks at Azazel."
"Do you really think that Azazel would do that to you, though? Do you
think she'd cheat on you and not break up with you?"
"Where would she go? If she didn't want to be with me, she'd probably feel
trapped here. She has to live here."
I did not. Was everyone forgetting the fact that I had a very rich grandmother?
I stayed with Jason by choice. And I couldn't believe that after last night, he
could possibly still be questioning my fidelity. If I didn't want to be with
him, he should realize that showing up covered in blood would have probably
sealed the deal.
Besides, when we'd made love last night, it had felt, to me anyway, like
something very, very real. Like Jason and I had connected on a level we'd never
connected with. Like it wasn't just our bodies touching, but our souls . . .
Clearly, he hadn't felt that.
"Wow," said Lilith, "that's true."
"But," said Jason, "she cares about me. I just think she
realizes that I'm holding her back. That being with me makes her life
dangerous. I think she wishes she could have a boyfriend like Jude. Someone
fun. Someone who she can just go crazy with."
Why was Jason so jealous of Jude?
"Someone normal," said Lilith.
"Yeah."
Augh. She couldn't have picked a worse word to say.
"So," said Lilith, "when you found them on her bed yesterday,
you don't think anything was going on?"
Jason hesitated. "I don't think she thinks anything was going on. I think
she thinks Jude is really gay. But I think Jude was loving every second of it.
When he walked past me in the hall, he gave me this look." There was a
long pause. "But, she couldn't be. Last night, when she took care of me
when I came back, she was so . . . I can't believe that I could have been so
close to her, that she could make me feel the way she made me feel, and be
doing anything behind my back."
So, he had felt something then?
"Can't believe, or don't want to believe?"
"She couldn't have faked that," said Jason.
"Girls can fake all kinds of things, Jason." Lilith's voice dropped.
It sounded sultry. Suggestive. "For instance, are you sure that she's
completely, well, satisfied?"
She wasn't asking this, was she? She couldn't be.
"What do you mean?" Jason asked.
"You know what I mean."
"I . . ."
"You know," said Lilith in her seductive voice, "I used to be
very, um, frustrated myself. I guess I thought that guys would know how to
please me without me telling them anything."
"And they didn't?" Jason sounded concerned.
"The female body is a mysterious thing to men," Lilith said, her
voice going breathy. "There's no way they could have fully understood what
it was I needed."
"Oh."
"You think you understand what women need?"
"I . . . well . . ."
"It's okay. It's not your fault. Someone needs to show you."
Show him?
And then it was quiet.
My heart raced. What was going on? Why weren't they talking? What was Lilith
doing? And why couldn't I move?
I fought with myself. Fought against the images that were flashing through my
mind. Images of Lilith and Jason, just a few rooms away. They were sitting on
the couch, probably. Was she close? How close was she? What could she possibly
be showing him?
I could think of several possibilities. All of them made me sick to my stomach.
I needed to get up. Throw aside the covers on my bed. Jam my feet into
slippers. Tear into the living room. Scream at them to stop.
But try as I might, I couldn’t will my body to move.
Chapter Nine
aird92 (07:22:43): idk i think it might be working.
she and jason seem to be fighting a lot.
michaela666 (07:22:55): fighting isn't enough, and you know it. we need to step
in. There's a lot at stake here. We can't risk things going wrong.
aird92 (07:23:12): is there really that much of a rush? couldnt we give it like
another week or so?
michaela666 (07:23:32): Absolutely not. And by the way, are you getting enough
to eat?
aird92 (07:23:40): geez. im not answering that
Finally, I heard Jason's voice.
"Lilith, what are you doing?" he said. He sounded embarrassed. He
sounded guilty.
Oh God, what had just happened?
Lilith didn't say anything.
"You know I think you're very attractive," said Jason, "but I'm
in love with Azazel. I don't want to . . ."
"For all you know, Azazel is banging Jude," said Lilith. "Even
the score."
Even the score?!
"Azazel isn't doing anything like that," Jason said.
"Are you sure?"
"I . . ."
He wasn't sure?
"It doesn't matter," said Jason. "Whatever she did, it doesn't
matter. She's all I want."
"You'd stay with her if she was sleeping with someone else?" Lilith
demanded.
"I'd stay with her if she was the devil incarnate. I can't be without her.
She's everything to me. Without her, I don't know if I can exist."
My heart swelled. I felt the same way. And it was good, because I wasn't
cheating on Jason, and I never would. But we were going to be okay. Because he
loved me, and I loved him. And no matter what happened, we'd always have that.
And that was all that mattered.
And then, I could move! Finally. I burst out of my room, making as much noise
as I could. When I appeared in the living room, I saw Lilith sitting on the
couch. Jason was standing on the opposite side of the room from her, his hands
thrust into his pockets. He was staring at the carpet.
I looked at the both of them.
Lilith smiled at me. "Hi, Zaza," she said.
"I don't want you to stay here anymore," I said to her.
She raised her eyebrows.
"God," I said. "What is it with you and my boyfriends, anyway?
There are thousands of men on earth. Pick someone else for Christ's sake."
Jason snorted.
I turned to look at him. "What?" I said.
"Nothing," he said, "it's just funny that when it's about me,
Toby means nothing to you, but when it's about Lilith, he's still
important."
I felt hurt. Jason had just said that he couldn't exist without me, but was
angry with me. About Toby. About Jude. "He's not important," I said.
Jason shrugged. "I don't know what to think anymore," he said.
"You just said I was everything to you," I said.
"Were you eavesdropping?," said Jason.
"I heard you two talking," I said. "I wasn't
eavesdropping."
"How much did you hear?" said Jason. "If you heard us, why
didn't you come into the room? Why did you wait in there and listen?"
"Lilith shows up and suddenly you're hanging with her
twenty-four/seven," I said. "She takes you to parties. You guys go
out drinking. Whenever I ask you to go out—"
"You don't ask me, Azazel," Jason interrupted. "You call me
plastered from the party and ask me to pick you up. You don't want me to come
along."
"I do so ask you," I said. "But you work later than I do, and
what do you want me to do? Wait around for you to get off work before I go to
the party?"
"Well, that would be horrible, wouldn't it?" Jason said
sarcastically.
"I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't know you minded."
"How could you not know? No, you just want to spent time alone with
Jude."
"I don't," I said. "Jude's my friend, that's all."
"You guys looked real friendly yesterday, lying on your bed
together," Jason said.
"I'd just gone through something pretty traumatic," I said. "I
needed someone. You weren't there."
Jason looked stung.
"And then," I said, "the minute I told you, you just ran off
again, and God only knows what you did while you were gone. You could have
died. Or you could have . . ." Killed someone. "Maybe you did. I
don't know. But you came back. And I had to clean you up. I had to clean it up.
And I was the one who was . . ."
"I did it for you," Jason said, sounding agonized.
"What did you do, Jason? God help me, what did you do?"
Jason looked away. When he turned back to me, he'd gotten a stony expression in
his eyes. His face was carefully controlled mask. "I protected you,"
he said. "I can protect
you, Azazel."
"I don't want you to have to
protect me," I said.
"Then don't go running off without me," he said. "Don't do
things like that."
"You don't go running off without me either," I said, my voice
shaking.
I reached out for him, and he took my hand, pulling me over to him. Against
him. His arms went tight around me, like he was grabbing onto me for dear life.
"So you're just going to forgive her?" asked Lilith.
Dammit. I'd forgotten she was even there. I yanked myself away from Jason.
"Why are you still here?" I asked. I turned on Jason. "What was
she trying to 'show' you, anyway?"
Jason's eyes darted away from mine.
I glared at Lilith.
She crossed her arms over her chest. "I was just trying to help you out,
Zaza. I figured that even if you'd gotten enough courage to find your clitoris,
you'd be too scared to help Jason find it."
I blushed to the roots of my hair. "That's really none of your
business."
Lilith shrugged. "Well, what are you doing, anyway? I mean, you've got
this amazing guy, and you're blowing him off for parties and some guy who you
think is gay?"
"He is gay," I said, exasperated.
Lilith shook her head. "Not gay, sweetheart. Definitely not gay."
"And I'm not blowing Jason off," I said.
"He thinks you are," she said. "Let me tell you a little secret
about men, sweetie. Men like to feel like they're needed. They like to be able
to do things. You make Jason feel like he's useless. He can't party with you.
He can't save you. And he can't even give you an orgasm. You keep that up for
too long and even the best guy will start looking for someone who wants
him."
"I want Jason," I said. "And I'm not talking about our sex life
with you."
Lilith laughed. "Well, there's not much to really talk about, now is
there?"
"Just shut up," I said.
"Did I strike a nerve?" she asked.
I looked at Jason. "I don't make you feel useless, do I?"
"No," he said, but he didn't sound very convinced.
I didn't know what to say. Lilith had tried to seduce my boyfriend, and he
wasn't helping me get rid of her. He'd rejected her, sure, but how long would
that last? Lilith wasn't on my side. She was out to get me. She could claim she
was trying to help, but you didn't help someone by flirting with her boyfriend.
"I don't want Lilith to stay here anymore," I said.
"Azazel," said Jason.
"No," I said. "No more excuses. I don't trust her with
you."
"Then you don't trust me," he said.
I didn't say anything.
Lilith sighed. "I've got to go to work," she said. "But I've got
enough cash that I can probably afford a hotel for a few nights."
"No," said Jason, "you're not going to a hotel. I've got to work
tonight too. We all need to cool down, and we'll talk about it later."
* * *
I was alone again. For hours, I tried to distract
myself. I made food. I watched television. I messed around on the internet. But
finally, I couldn't distract myself anymore. It was getting dark outside my
house. Jason and Lilith would be getting off work soon. I paced around the
house, angry and frustrated. I felt like everything in my life was
disintegrating. This wasn't a new feeling for me. I'd felt it before, when
Jason and I had driven out of Bramford. I'd left my family, my best friend, my
boyfriend, everything I cared about. Everything had been ripped away from me.
Things weren't that dire yet.
Yet.
Jason was right about one thing when he was talking to Lilith. He was all that
I had. He was my lifeline. He was everything that I lived for. We'd worked so
hard to try to have a normal life together. Here, in
In just the past few days, everything had gotten crazy. I'd been nearly raped
on a beach, carried off from a parking lot, and assaulted on a couch. All of
those things were bad. I wished like hell they'd never happened to me. But it
was worse than that. It was worse than that because I felt like I was losing
Jason.
I thought of his face when I'd told him about Mr. Sutherland. The way he'd been
overtaken by anger. How single-minded he'd been as he left the apartment. And
then I thought of his returning, covered in blood, staring through me in the
bathroom. He hadn't looked like the Jason I'd fallen in love with. He'd looked
so haunted. What had Jason done? Why had he done it?
If Jason had killed Mr. Sutherland, it wouldn't be the first time he'd taken a
human life. But the first time Jason had killed a person, it had been to
protect me. And he'd said, as we stood in the living room, that he'd done what
he did to Sutherland because of me. How could I handle the responsibility of
that? It felt like I'd murdered people myself. I hadn't pulled the trigger, but
I'd been the trigger. If Jason was driven to kill because of me, then what was
it that Jason was becoming? And was he becoming that because of me? What was I
doing to him?
Jason was jealous. Jason was always accusing me of things I didn't do. Jason
didn't trust me. And Lilith wasn't helping matters either. The two of them had
been quiet for several moments before Jason had spoken. What had they done in
those moments? Had Lilith kissed Jason? Had she touched him? Had she showed him
her body? Had he touched her? Where had he touched her?
It was agony. I couldn't handle the thought of it. What was worse, I couldn’t
believe that Jason didn't agree that Lilith needed to leave. Just a few days
with Lilith around, and he was spending lots of time with her, and he was
having conversations with her about our sex life? I couldn't believe it. I had
a right to be jealous when he was doing that.
It was stupid for Lilith to interfere anyway. Jason and I were having great
sex. Really. Not that we got to do it very much with Hallam around, but when we
did, I enjoyed it. Tons. I was satisfied. Really. I guessed I'd always worried
a little about . . .
Well, I didn't worry that much about it, considering I couldn't even think the
words. But I'd always heard that it was harder for girls than it was for guys
to do that. Especially girls my age. So, I didn't think it was that big of a
deal. Sometimes, I guessed I felt a little jealous of Jason, because sometimes,
when we had sex, afterwards, I felt kind of unfinished. Like I'd been building
up to something, and instead I just hung there, trying to deal with the fact it
was over. But I didn't know what to do about that. I didn't know how to talk to
Jason about it. It seemed like we had to work so hard to find time to have sex
as it was. I didn't want to create problems.
Still. I thought about the way Jason's voice had sounded when he'd asked Lilith
whether or not guys had known how to please her. He'd sounded worried. Was this
a big deal? If I couldn’t do it, did it make Jason feel useless?
Did Jason feel useless?
I hated Lilith. Before she'd shown up, Jason and I hadn't been fighting about
this stuff. In fact, before Lilith had shown up, everything had been fine.
Sort of. The bell had shown up in my purse. That had really started everything,
actually.
But wait. The bell had appeared in my purse after Lilith showed up.
Hold on. I didn't really think . . .
Truthfully, I'd been so caught up in worrying about Jason hurting Mr.
Sutherland and our domestic issues that I hadn't thought much about the bell or
anything else in some time. Which was pretty strange, I realized, because Mr.
Sutherland had said something very important to me. He'd said that someone
close to me was trying to complete an invocation. That could only mean the
Satanists.
This whole time, I'd been concerned about the Sons. I'd never even considered
the fact that the Satanists might not be down for the count. And actually, it
made more sense, considering everything had happened to me, not Jason. The
Satanists would be interested in me.
Somebody had put a bell in my bag, framing me for stealing it. And then Mr.
Sutherland had been weird, but Mr. Sutherland hadn't even really been connected
to any of it. So really, the only thing that had happened had been the bell.
Hmm.
If the Satanists were responsible for putting a bell in my bag, why would they
have done that? Would they have wanted me in detention? That didn't make much
sense. Did it? I wandered into the living room and turned on the computer.
Mr. Sutherland said something about the invocation. If the Satanists were
trying to complete the invocation, what would they have done?
I pulled up google and typed in, "Invocation to Azazel."
I didn't come up with much. There were several websites describing silly
incantations, telling the reader to visualize the nature and modern
civilization and to focus on the "gods of this world," while
repeating a bunch of junk about the "Queen of Hell" and other such
things. There was also a website about the mythical Azazel, claiming that
Azazel was the scapegoat for the Jewish people, or the being who was punished
for their sins in place of them. Darkly, I wondered if this was why my life was
so screwed up. Was I being punished for the sins of the world, even though I'd
done nothing wrong?
Abandoning the search, I tried another query. Was the bell related? I searched
for "invocation bell."
I hit a few unrelated websites at first. One was actually for a role-playing
game which instructed the player to "ring the bell of invocation" and
descend into the pit of Moloch or something. There was another that was a news
item about a Lions Club meeting.
Then I found a website entitled, "The Beast: Satanic Rituals and Spells."
It took me to a site within the larger site that was headed, "Invocations
to Satan." There was a description of something very similar to the first
invocation I'd been part of, instructing the performer of the invocation to
drink from a sacred chalice and chant in Latin. Beneath that, there was another
ritual.
"If the first invocation fails, or if the desired object of the spirit of
the demon is an unwilling participant (though this kind of magic is highly
dangerous and not encouraged by the creators of this website), try this
instead. Gather several large candles, a chalice consecrated to the demon in
question, a bell, and an object that will symbolize the demon himself (or
herself.) This object should be something that embodies or symbolizes the spirit
of the entity you intend to invoke. For example, if you are invoking Lilith, a
sexually charged item or talons of some kind might work well.
"This object needs to be anointed with some kind of body fluid from the
person hoping to be filled with the spirit of the demon. Blood, semen, and/or
vaginal fluid are the most effective, but saliva or sweat will work as well.
Ring the bell to focus the demon on the spot you wish him to concentrate
on."
The website went on to describe the various chants and spells one had to say
over the person who was invoking the demon. It all sounded pretty gross to me.
However, it was proof that someone might use a bell to invoke Azazel. And that
the Satanists might have put the bell in my bag as a warning or something.
Mr. Sutherland had said that someone close to me had completed an invocation,
and, when I'd elbowed him in the ribs, he'd grunted, "Maybe you are imbued
with the spirit of a demon."
Someone had already performed this ritual on me. Who was close to me? Who had
ties to the Satanists? Who'd shown up just before the bell did?
There was only one person who fit the answer to all those questions.
Lilith.
And she slept in my house, for God's sake. She could have come into my room as
I slept, performed the ritual over me, and then placed the bell she'd used in
my purse.
And it made sense that she was trying to seduce Jason. The Satanists wanted me
to kill Jason. Perhaps they thought that if Jason slept with Lilith, I'd be so
angry with him that I'd destroy him.
Augh. I couldn't believe I'd allowed Lilith into my house with her stupid story
about wanting to get away from the Satanists. She didn't want to get away from
the Satanists at all. Instead, she was working for them! And Jason had told her
it was okay to sleep in our house tonight! I couldn't believe that. I had to
get away from her. I had to get her away from Jason. Who knew what kind of
damage she'd already inflicted?
I needed to call Jason. Tell him what I'd figured out. But no. I couldn't call
Jason. I didn't have a phone. Hallam had a phone, but I didn't know where
Hallam was. I guessed I should tell Hallam too. Maybe he'd know how to help. Or
what to do.
I thought about Hallam and Jason earlier. Hallam screaming at Jason. Hallam
demanding to know what Jason had done with Mr. Sutherland's body. Hallam was
angry at both of us. Who knew if he was even on our side anymore? Should I wait
for Hallam to come back?
No. I should just go to Jason. But I didn't have a car. Hallam had the car.
Jason and Lilith had caught a ride with a co-worker. It wasn't too far to walk,
but it was dark outside, and after what had happened over the last few days, I
didn't feel quite comfortable walking around in the dark.
How was I going to get there?
Well. I could ask Jude for a ride.
Of course, I didn't think that would make Jason particularly happy. And it
wasn't smart to get Jude anymore involved in this mess than he already was.
Still. We had to stop Lilith.
I signed onto AOL instant messenger. With my luck, Jude wouldn’t even be
online. It was a Friday night, and he probably had something exciting to do,
like a party or something. If he wasn't, it was a sign, I told myself. I'd just
wait for Hallam to come home. Or for Jason and Lilith. I'd get Jason alone and
tell him what I'd figured out. He'd believe me. He'd have to. Wouldn't he?
But Jude was online.
He messaged me immediately. "u didnt come to school today. u okay?"
"Fine," I typed. "Can you come pick me up?"
He could. He would. As I signed off, I mused over his AOL handle. It was weird,
because I couldn't figure out why he'd picked it. It wasn't his name, like mine
was. Of course, Jude was a much more common name than Azazel. Maybe he wanted
something more original. Still. His handle wasn't that original. It reminded me
of something. I couldn't remember what, but I knew I'd heard it somewhere. Like
a last name or something?
Where had I heard the name Aird?
* * *
"You're kidding," Jude gasped. "She
said somebody needed to show him
and then it was quiet?"
"Yeah," I said. "And Jason has the nerve to be jealous of me and
act like it's my fault."
Jude was pulling into the driveway of the restaurant where Lilith and Jason
worked. He shook his head as if he couldn't believe it. "So the two of you
had another fight then?"
"I guess so."
"Girl, is it just me, or are the two of you arguing a lot lately?"
"It's Lilith!" I said. "She's ruining everything. I just want to
get rid of her."
"So that's why we're going to Jason's work? So you can confront him about
Lilith?"
I couldn't explain to Jude why exactly I was going, so I guessed his
interpretation worked as well as any other. "Yeah."
Jude parked the car in the parking lot and turned it off.
"Thanks for driving me," I said. "I know I must not seem like the
safest person to be around lately."
Jude shrugged. "I got your back, Azazel. Really. Whatever you need to
do."
I was glad he hadn't asked any questions about Mr. Sutherland. It made
everything much easier. Jude was a good friend. I didn't care what anyone
thought. I was glad to have him. And there was nothing going on with him beyond
that.
"So," said Jude. "You want me to wait in the car?"
I nodded. That would be easier. I need to talk to Jason privately. Jude might
get in the way.
"Okay," said Jude.
"Thanks," I said. I put my hand on the door handle.
"Azazel?" said Jude.
I stopped and looked at him. "Yeah?"
"If you ever feel like . . ."
"What?" I said.
"It's not important."
Trailing off drove me crazy. "Tell me," I said.
"It's just that if you feel like you have to stay with Jason because he's
all you've got, I want you to know that's not true."
"Jude—"
"I know you think you love him. Maybe you do. But just because you love
someone doesn’t mean that you two are good for each other, you know? Anyway, I
just want you to know that if you ever need anything, you have me, okay?"
I just smiled. "Thanks Jude. That means a lot. It does. But nobody else
really gets Jason and me. What we have goes beyond being good or bad for each
other." We're each other's oxygen. But I didn't say that out loud.
I went up to the restaurant. The door was locked, because they were closing, so
I went around back to the kitchen entrance. A few guys were outside, dumping
large garbage bags into the dumpster behind the restaurant. I recognized them
because I knew they worked with Jason, but I couldn't remember their names.
"Hi," I said. "I'm looking for Jason."
"Oh, right," said one of the guys. "You're his girlfriend,
right?"
"Right," I said.
"Well, he already left," said the other guy.
"He did?" I said.
I'd missed him? I wondered what he'd think when he got home, and I wasn't
there.
"Yeah," said the first guy. "He went to a party out on
Cortez."
"Right. At Rachel Kline's house," said the other guy.
A party? Jason had gone to a party? After everything that had happened, he'd
just ditched me to go off and drink?
"Really?" I said.
"He's been hanging out pretty close with that redhead chick," said
one of the guys. "I'm pretty sure going to the party was her idea."
"Oh my God." I shook my head, angry and hurt at the same time.
"Sorry," said the other guy. "Tough break. For what it's worth,
I think you're way hotter than that Lilith girl."
Nice. Wonderful.
Fuming, I went back to Jude's car. I filled him in. "They're at Rachel
Kline's," I said.
"Oh right," he said. "I totally forgot about that."
"So did I," I said. "You asked me if I wanted to go on
Sunday."
"Seems like five years ago," said Jude. "It's been quite a
week."
"Yeah," I said. It had been.
"So I guess we're going to Rachel's?" Jude asked.
"I guess so," I said. I couldn't believe Jason was going to a party.
Was this some way of getting back at me for going to parties without him all
the time? I hadn't realized it bothered him so much.
"Could be fun," said Jude. "It's a party, after all."
Fun? Doubt it. And maybe I'd just been fooling myself all this time, thinking
that I went out to so many parties and drank so much because I wanted to cut
loose and be free. Truthfully, I thought I might just be running from
everything that had happened. I didn't want to face what had happened to me. I
didn't want to face who I'd become. But I wasn't a crazy party girl. I was a
girl who'd fought off a serial rapist. I was a girl who'd faced down the Sons
of the Rising Sun. I was girl who could load a gun and flick off the safety. I
was a girl who loved a boy more than life itself. I was me. There wasn't any
running from it. Not anymore. I had to be myself. Own up to it.
But I smiled weakly. "Party time," I said.
Jude laughed. He started the car. "You sound so enthused."
As he pulled out of the parking lot, Jude got his phone out of his pocket.
"I'm going to give a couple of the guys from work a call and tell them I'm
going out to the party, okay?"
I listened while he relayed our destination over the phone and gave directions
to Rachel's house. It didn't take long to drive out to Rachel's house. It was
close to town. Once there, we had trouble finding a parking space since the
entire street was glutted with cars, and they were taking up every possible
place to park. Finally, we parked maybe three blocks away and had to walk all
the way back to the party.
Rachel's house was one of those McMansions that populate the Sarasota-Bradenton
area. Easily worth a half-million dollars, it sprawled amongst houses of the
same size in a crowded, planned neighborhood. Inside, there was a lot of space,
but not a lot of rooms. The foyer had high ceilings and a large chandelier.
Overall, however, the house was a regular three bedroom house. Just a fancy
one, with big windows and walk-in closets.
Rachel's parents were out of town for the weekend, and it seemed that everyone
in
Because the party was so packed, I couldn't find Jason or Lilith. Jude and I
made a search of each of the rooms in the lower level of the house. The living
room. The foyer. The kitchen. The den. The line to the downstairs bathroom.
They were nowhere to be found. Had they actually come to the party? What if
they were somewhere else? Together?
Alone?
The thought made me feel nauseated.
"Where are they?" I wondered aloud.
"Should we check upstairs?" Jude asked.
Upstairs? Like . . . in a bedroom? I gulped. If that's where they were, did I
want to know?
I chewed on my lip, trying to work up the courage to mount the steps and look.
But I didn't have to, because I saw Jason coming out of the kitchen, the
plastic cup he held sloshing liquid all over the floor.
Jude touched my shoulder. "You want me to stick around while you talk to
him? For moral support?"
I shook my head. "It's probably better if you don't. He doesn't much like
you, if you hadn't noticed."
Jude nodded. "I'll be around," he said. "Find me if you need a
ride or anything." And then he disappeared into the throng of bodies
surrounding us.
I pushed my way through them to Jason.
Jason looked surprised when he recognized me. "What are you doing here,
Azazel?" he asked.
"I'm looking for you," I said. "I have something I need to tell
you."
He took a long swig of his drink.
"Can we go somewhere and talk? Somewhere quiet?" I asked him.
Jason raised his eyebrows. "What do you want to talk about Azazel? Can't
you see I'm drinking here? I'm having fun. I thought you'd be glad. Isn't that
what you want me to do? Stop being so serious? Live it up?"
"No," I said. "No, I need to tell you something very
important."
"So tell me."
"It's so loud and crowded here. Can't we just—"
"Tell me," he said. "I've got shit to do."
I looked at the floor. "You're drunk."
"Hell yeah, I am," said Jason. "No drunker than you always get,
though."
"It's about the bell, Jason."
"Oh, the bell. Come on, Azazel, can't you let that go? I thought
Sutherland stuck it in your purse, anyway. Sutherland's not a problem. I told
you that, didn't I?"
"Sutherland didn't do it," I said.
"Then who did?"
"The Satanists," I said.
Jason's expression froze thoughtfully. "The Satanists?"
"I found a ritual on the internet telling me that the Invocation to Azazel
could be completed with a bell and other stuff. I think the bell was planted to
scare me. Or to tip me off. I don't know. Maybe they thought once the ritual
was completed, I'd be on their side completely or something."
"Wait," said Jason. "The Satanists? Who? Michaela Weem?"
"No," I said. "I mean, I think she's behind it, but I don't
think she's here."
"Then who?"
"There's only one person who's close to me, who has ties to the Satanists,
and who showed up right before the bell appeared in my purse."
"There is?"
"Lilith, Jason. It's Lilith. And she's obviously trying to seduce you so
that I'll get angry with you."
Jason glared at me witheringly before chugging his drink again. "Lilith?
Jesus, Azazel, this is ridiculous."
"You don't believe me?" I said. God, what was wrong with Jason? Why
didn't he see that what I was saying was the truth?
"Look, I'm drunk, and you're grasping at straws."
"Mr. Sutherland said that someone close to me was trying to complete the
ritual," I said.
"And you believed him? He's not exactly a reliable source, is he?"
"He wanted to trade information. He only got violent with me when I
wouldn't tell him that you were Edgar Weem's son."
"What?" Jason looked confused. "I can't think about this right
now, okay?"
"We have to. Lilith is staying in our house. We have to do something
before she—"
"Before she what? Why do you hate Lilith so much, Azazel?"
"This isn't about the way I feel about her. This is about the fact that
you and I are both in danger and that the Satanists are—"
"Spare me," said Jason. "I'm sick of your conspiracy theories.
If it's up to you, we'll never be safe. We'll never be normal. You see danger
everywhere. You're paranoid, and you need to get over it."
Jason drained his glass, turned his back on me, and started back for the
kitchen.
"Jason!" I called after him, struggling to push through the bodies and
keep up.
He turned on me. "I need some space, okay, Azazel? Just give me one night
where I don't have to be the Rising Sun. Just give me one night where I don't
have to think about this crap. Just give me one night to be normal. Okay? Is
that too much to ask?"
His eyes blazed. Wounded, I hung back. But then Lilith slid between the crowded
bodies and moved close to Jason. She was holding two plastic cups. She gave one
to Jason. He took it from her and took a large gulp. The two surveyed me.
"Zaza," said Lilith. "You look like you might start crying. Are
you okay?"
God. I hated her. How could she pretend to be concerned when she was plotting
against me?
Jason laughed. "You should hear her latest paranoid delusion, Lil. She
thinks you're working for the Satanists. She thinks you put that bell in her
purse after you performed an invocation over her body to invoke the demon
Azazel."
Lilith's brow furrowed sympathetically. "Jesus, Zaza." She turned to
Jason. "She's been under a lot of stress lately. She was nearly captured
and then nearly raped. You shouldn't be too hard on her."
I gaped at Lilith. "Don't play dumb," I said to her. "I know
it's true."
Lilith looked into her drink, pressing her lips together as if she were trying
very hard to keep from saying something.
"What's your plan?" I said to her. "You think if you seduce
Jason that I'll feel betrayed and kill him?"
"Jesus Christ!" Jason exclaimed. "You know I'd never do
that."
"I used to think you'd never say I was paranoid and delusional too," I
spat out. "I used to think you'd never run off without telling me where
you're going and come home covered in blood, too stunned to speak. I used to
think all kinds of things about you, Jason Wodden. Now I'm not sure if I even
know you."
Jason rolled his eyes. "Screw this," he said. "I can't take this
right now." He turned away from me and made his way into the crowd. Lilith
started to follow him, but I darted forward and caught her by the arm.
"No," I said. "You don't go with him. There's no way I'm letting
you go off with him now."
"You can't control Jason, you know," she said. "He's a big boy.
He can do what he wants."
"Yeah?" I said. "Well, he's not doing you. Not on my
watch." I started for the door to the house, pulling Lilith with me.
"You're coming with me," I said. "We're going to go talk to
Hallam. We'll see what he thinks about this."
Lilith struggled, but she walked with me. "I'm not going anywhere with
you," she said. "You're going nuts. You're losing it Azazel. None of
this is real. You realize that don't you? You're paranoid. Can't you see that
you're paranoid?"
"Maybe if I'd been a little more paranoid in Bramford, none of that shit
would have happened," I retorted.
I pulled her out the door and onto the porch. Once in the muggy night air, she
wrenched her arm out of my grip.
"Don't fool yourself, Azazel," said Lilith. "You didn't have any
control over what happened to you in Bramford, just like you don't have any
control over what's happening to you now. You're Azazel. The Vessel. The
girlfriend of Jason. You're never going to get to choose what you want. Don't
you realize that?"
"What are you talking about?" I said. Because it almost sounded to me
like she was admitting that I was right. She was a Satanist. She was
controlling my destiny. "I know everything that's going on here. I can
stop what's going on."
"Well," said another voice, "not everything."
I whirled, looking for the person who owned the voice.
And I couldn't believe my eyes. Walking across the lawn to Rachel Kline's house
were my two older brothers, Noah and Gordon. I hadn't seen the two of them
since the ritual in Bramford, back in October.
"Noah?" I gasped. "Gordon?" I looked at Lilith. "Why
are they here?"
But she looked just as surprised as I did. "I don't . . ." She shook
her head.
Noah and Gordon stopped in front of us, both grinning. Noah jammed his hands
into his pockets. Gordon rubbed his chin. When I'd spoken to Chance earlier in
the week, he'd said that they'd been planning to visit me. Was this that visit?
"Hey Zaza," said Noah.
"Lil' sis," said Gordon.
Suddenly, everything clicked into place. "Oh," I murmured, covering
my mouth with my hand. "It was you two. You two stole the bell and
performed the ritual."
Noah shrugged. "Well, yeah. After what happened to Mom and Dad, you didn't
expect us to just give up, did you?"
"Gotta say, though, we're kind of disappointed in you, Zaza," said
Gordon. "You really haven't been living up to your potential. Why couldn't
you have just cooperated in October and saved us all this trouble?"
I shook my head. "So, you've been working with Michaela Weem or
something?"
"She was really shaken up when she saw the two of you in
"We don't like this Jason guy at all. He's bad, bad news," said
Gordon.
"I'm never going to kill him," I said. "You two must understand
that."
They shrugged. "There's some stuff we want to show you," said Gordon.
"You might change your mind," said Noah.
"Never," I said.
"Still," said Gordon, "we'd like you to come with us."
"No way," I said. "You two helped. You two tried to set me up to
get raped by Toby. I don't trust you. I don't care if you are my
brothers."
"You're talking like you have a choice," said Noah.
Damn it. What did that mean? "So you're going to take me by force?" I
asked. Where was a gun when I needed it?
"If we have to," said Noah.
"It would be easier if we didn't have to do that," said Gordon.
"You could just come voluntarily."
"What about me?" asked Lilith.
"She'll probably just run off and tell Jason about us if we let her
go," said Noah to Gordon.
"Wait," I said. "Lilith isn't working with you?"
"Lilith?" said Noah. "Come on, Zaza. I know she's your friend
and all, but she's way too stupid to pull anything like that off."
"Screw you," Lilith said darkly.
I didn't think. I just moved. My hand darted out and grasped Lilith's. I broke
out into a sprint, dragging her along.
We ran across the lawn of Rachel Kline's house. Behind us, I heard both Noah
and Gordon cry out in surprise.
Lilith and I might have made it, even though she was slowing me down, her
breath coming in gasps.
But before we could get off the lawn and onto the sidewalk (where there were
cars to hide in, maybe one with unlocked doors and keys inside) a familiar
figure appeared in our path.
"Jude!" I cried out in recognition and relief. "We have to get
out of here. I'll explain later." I slowed as I approached him, glancing
over my shoulder to see if Noah and Gordon were in pursuit.
I didn't see them anywhere.
Confused, I stopped, pulling Lilith to a stop next to me.
Jude ambled over to us, his arms clasped behind his back. "What's going
on?" he asked.
"There are these two guys who were chasing us," I said, struggling to
catch my breath. "I don't know where they went."
"I don't see anyone," said Jude.
I just shook my head. "We have to get out of here, anyway," I said.
"They'll—"
Jude took his arms out from behind his back. He was holding a baseball bat.
"Jude?" I whispered.
He raised the bat over his head. "Sorry, Azazel," he said.
The bat came crashing down.
And everything winked out, like birthday candles that had just been blown out.
Part Two
Is it like this
In death's other kingdom
Waking alone
At the hour when we are
Trembling with tenderness
-T.S. Eliot, "The Hollow Men"
Chapter Ten
To: Edgar Weem
From: Renegade Son
Subject: Big problems
Edgar,
Azazel's disappeared. Jason's gone after her. I don't know where either of them
are, and if I find out you've got anything to do with this, so help me.
I still have an email that I could send out, you know. To everyone in the Sons.
With all of your secrets, emblazoned for all of them to see.
Get me a secure, untraceable number, so that I can talk to you.
You've got twenty-four hours.
Hallam
"She's not answering her phone!"
The voice was tight with panic. I recognized the voice. I thought.
"Chill out. Maybe she's away from the phone or has it turned off or
something."
That was Noah. Noah, my brother. If I could hear Noah talking, everything must
be fine.
"She wouldn't be away from her phone right now. There's no way. Something's
not right," said the panicky voice. The familiar voice. Who did that voice
belong to?
It was dark. It was dark, and my head hurt.
"Noah's right. You've got to calm down. I'm sure she's okay. She's been
taking care of herself for quite some time. And she's not a weak woman. She's
got spunk, you know?"
Gordon. Both Gordon and Noah? Was it Christmas or something? Had they come
home? Was I in my bed, early in the morning, listening to them talk to Mom and
Da—
No. Mom and Dad were dead.
And it was dark because my eyes were closed.
My eyes snapped open as it all came back to me. The party. Jude advancing on me
with a baseball bat over his head. The pain. The pain in my head had to be
because of that.
I wanted to thrash about and scream, but I forced myself not to move so that I
could assess my situation.
I was lying on my side in the back of a speeding vehicle. It looked like the
interior of a mini-van of some kind. The carpet was gray and mussed. The back
seat had been removed. My hands were tied behind my back. My feet were
similarly bound. Lilith was lying next to me, also tied up. Her eyes were
closed. Maybe she was still out.
I forced my breathing to stay steady and closed my eyes again. I didn't want
them to know that I was awake. Maybe if I just listened, I could find out
something useful.
"Spunk?" the familiar voice was repeating. It was Jude, of course.
"She could still be vulnerable. I'm worried."
"We'll be at her house in fifteen minutes," said Gordon. "Sit
tight. We'll check on her."
Her house? Who was this woman they were talking about? Where were we going? I
wished I had an idea of how long we'd been travelling. I'd been knocked out.
How long did someone stay knocked out, usually? I didn't know. And for all I
knew they'd drugged me in some way too. Had I had anything to drink at the
party? I couldn't remember, but I did feel very groggy and disoriented.
Similar to the way I'd felt the morning after the party on the beach actually.
"She should have answered the phone a long time ago," Jude insisted.
"Look, what is it you're worried has happened to her anyway?" Noah
asked.
"You said that Azazel was accusing Lilith of setting her up when you found
her, didn't you?" Jude asked.
"So?" said Noah.
"On behalf of our coven, right?" said Jude.
Coven. So Jude was a Satanist, was he? And I'd never suspected him. How stupid
could I get really? Of all the people I could pick to trust, I had to pick the
one working for the Satanists, didn't I? God.
"Yeah, but big deal. Why does that matter?" asked Noah.
"What if she told that theory to Jason?" asked Jude.
"What if she did?" asked Gordon.
"If she did, it would take Jason two seconds to connect the dots once
Azazel disappeared," said Jude. "He'd know exactly where we were
headed."
He would? Then I should be able to figure it out, too, shouldn't I? Where would
the Satanists take me?
Bramford?
Had I really slept through a fourteen-hour car drive? No, I didn't think we
were headed to Bramford. That wasn't the center of Satanist activity, anyway.
There was one person who'd be at the center of that.
Michaela Weem.
We were going to
"So what if Jason did figure it out?" asked Gordon. "We've got a
head start on him. And what could he have possibly done, anyway?"
"You really don't know anything about Jason, do you?" said Jude.
"I'll never forget the night I saw him beat up this guy for saying
something suggestive about Azazel. The look on his face. And the way he took
that guy down. It was so precise. So deadly."
Jude was right. Jason would be trying to protect me. He might already be with
Michaela Weem. He was looking for me, even as I listened to them speak in the
front of the van. I could count on Jason. He wouldn't let anyone hurt me. Just
the thought of someone trying to molest me would throw him into a rage.
Wait. I groped for thoughts, putting pieces together. I felt groggy. Jude was a
Satanist.
Oh, God. Jason had been right all along. Jude had put the damned bell in my
purse. Jude had completed the ritual, along with Gordon and Noah. He must have
drugged me the night of the party on the beach. Maybe he'd drugged me now.
"I'm calling her again," said Jude.
"You've called her like fifteen times," said Noah.
"You need to calm down," said Gordon.
If Michaela wasn't answering her phone, then maybe it did mean that Jason had
found her. Jason would make Michaela tell him where Jude, Noah, and Gordon were
holding me. Jason would swoop in and save me. Everything would be okay.
"It's ringing," said Jude. "It's not just going to voicemail. I
think that's a good sign."
Jason would come after me, wouldn't he? I remembered the last time I'd seen
Jason. His last words to me had been, "You're paranoid, and you need to
get over it." He'd been really, really angry with me. What if he didn't
come after me? What if he thought that I ran off with Jude? What if he simply
didn't care anymore? All of this stuff with the Satanists was my fault, anyway.
If Jason had never met me, he'd never have had to deal with them. The Sons were
out of the picture, but the Satanists weren't. What if Jason just figured he
was better off now?
"Dammit," said Jude from the front of the van. "No answer."
"I'm telling you, we're almost there," said Gordon. "Give it a
few minutes. We'll see her."
"I'd just feel better if I could talk to her first," said Jude.
"I'm really starting to get worried."
"Starting to?" Noah muttered.
I opened my eyes again. What if Jason wasn't coming to save me? What was I
going to do then? What did Jude, Noah, and Gordon want with me anyway? The last
time I'd seen a group of Satanists, they'd wanted me to have sex with Toby and
kill Jason. The last time I'd seen Michaela Weem, she wanted me to kill Jason.
All things considered, they probably wanted me to kill Jason. But if that were
the case, why were they taking me away from Jason? And please God, tell me that
they weren't planning some kind of ritual sex with me. Please, God.
They couldn't be, could they? Jude was gay. And Gordon and Noah were my
brothers. Okay, we weren't actually blood related, but we'd grown up together.
So, they wouldn't. I knew my brothers. I remembered all kinds of things that
we'd done together as children, like the time that Noah had gotten a flat tire
on Gordon's bike and enlisted my help to try to hide the bike from Gordon. When
Gordon had found out, we'd played innocent, like we didn't know how the bike
had gotten a flat tire, Gordon had—
My thoughts were interrupted by the shrill ring of a cell phone.
The ringtone cut off abruptly. "Mom?" said Jude's voice.
Mom? Jude was getting calls from his mom? That was weird, wasn't it? I realized
that in
"You," Jude's voice said, but it was angry and menacing now. Was he
still talking to his mom? "What have you done with her? Let me talk to
her."
Wait. Did someone have Jude's mom?
"Sure," said Jude. "I know where she is. I have her, in
fact."
He had her? He had his mom? I was really, really confused.
"No," said Jude. "No, absolutely not. No deal."
"Who are you talking to?" asked Noah.
My sentiments exactly. Who was Jude
talking to?
Jude ignored Noah. "If you hurt her . . ." He paused. "Well, of
course I'm not going to hurt Azazel."
Me? He was talking about me? Who was he talking to? What was going on?
"Who is it, Jude?" Gordon demanded.
Jude ignored him. "Listen, there's no way I'm going to trade her for
Azazel, you idiot. If you don't let my mother go, I'm going to hunt you down
and—" Jude stopped
talking, as if he'd been interrupted. He paused for a long time. Finally, he
just breathed, "Fuck you," in a gravelly voice.
"Who was that?" Gordon asked.
Jude didn't answer.
"Who was that?" Gordon asked again.
"Turn around," said Jude.
"Turn around?" asked Noah.
"Yeah," said Jude. "We can't go there. He's there."
They couldn't go there? Had Jude gotten a call from their destination? But I
thought they were going to Michaela Weem's house.
"Who's there?" asked Noah. "Who were you talking to on the
phone?"
"He's got my mother. He's threatening to hurt her if we don't give him
Azazel," said Jude.
Who had Jude's mother? And who would want me? And what was Jude's mother doing
in
"Who's got your mother?" asked Gordon.
"Jason," said Jude. "Jason's got my mother."
Jason had Jude's mother? So Jason was trying to save me! He'd picked a kind of
screwed-up way to do it, but he didn't hate me. That was good. Suddenly, I
remembered that just hours before I'd argued with drunk Jason, he'd told Lilith
that he couldn’t exist without me. I couldn't believe that I'd doubted him.
"Big deal," said Noah. "Don't we want Jason dead anyway? We'll
just go in, grab him, tie him up and wait until Azazel's ready to do him
in."
"You don't understand," said Jude. "Jason was trained by the
Sons of the Rising Sun. We'd be no match for him. Not like this."
"He's a kid," said Gordon. "How tough could he really be?"
"He's killed before," said Jude. "A guy named Sutherland owed
Mom a favor, and was keeping an eye on Azazel for us. He got fresh, and no
one's heard from him since."
Sutherland? Jesus, he was in on it too? He was working with the Satanists?
Well, I guess it made sense that he knew about the invocation, then, didn't it?
And why did Sutherland owe Jude's mom a favor? Who was Jude's mom, anyway?
"Yeah," said Noah, "but Jason wouldn't hurt Michaela. She's his
mother too, isn't she?"
What?!
Oh God.
* * *
Now that I was looking at Jude, I didn't understand
why I didn't see it before. Sure, Jude had bright purple hair and multiple
piercings. Sure, he was wearing heavy eyeliner. All of that made him look
different. Exotic. But his skin was the same shade as Jason's—dusky light brown. His face was the
same shape as Jason's—heart-shaped.
His eyes were like Jason's too. Big and dark. They looked alike. A lot alike.
They were brothers. But before, I'd never made the connection, not even when
Jude told me he was a quarter Native American. Like Jason. I was such an idiot.
How had I trusted him?
Lilith and I were sitting in the back of the minivan. We were still tied up. We
were parked on the side of a country road. The back hatch of the minivan was
open, and Jude, Noah, and Gordon were peering in at us. Well, Noah and Gordon
were looking at us. Jude was pacing back and forth behind the open hatch,
swearing and running his hands through his hair. Noah and Gordon had long since
given up trying to calm him down.
"Maybe we could go to a hotel," said Noah thoughtfully, gazing at
Lilith and me.
"How are we going to get the two tied-up girls inside without attracting
attention?" Gordon asked.
"Good point," said Noah.
"You should just let us go," I said. "You know that Jason isn't
going to give up trying to find me. And it's a lost cause to try to get me to
kill him. I never will."
"If we wanted your input, Zaza, we'd ask for it," said Noah.
"Well, at least let Lilith go," I said. "She doesn't have
anything to do with this."
"Are you kidding?" asked Gordon. "She knows who Noah and I are.
She'd run to the police right away."
"I wouldn't," said Lilith.
I glared at Lilith. For some reason, it pissed me off that she was so eager to
say she wouldn't try to save us if they let her go. "When Jason finds you,
the police are going to be the least of your problems," I said.
Noah rolled his eyes. "The way I figure it, this Jason guy cannot be as
big of a deal as you say he is."
"I don't know, Noah," said Gordon. "He did bust Azazel out of
Bramford in front of the entire coven. He shot two of the members in the leg,
including a police officer."
Jude abruptly stopped pacing. He turned to us, his dark eyes intense. "I've
got to go there," he said.
"Go where?" asked Noah.
"To my house," said Jude. "Jason might still be there, waiting
with Mom. Maybe I could stop him, somehow. Save my mother."
"You just said that Jason was a total badass and that we'd never stand a chance
against him," said Noah.
"I'd have the element of surprise," said Jude.
"Wouldn't matter," I said. "Jason doesn't get surprised
easily."
"Shut up, Azazel," said Jude.
I looked from Jude to Lilith. "I sure have some taste in best friends,
don't I?" I muttered.
"Shut up, Azazel," said Gordon.
"I'm game," said Noah. "It beats sitting around here. Let's
go."
"Not all of us," said Jude. "Just me. If Jason sees Azazel, he'd
probably just shoot us all and take her. No, we can't risk getting Azazel captured
by Jason."
"Let's get this straight," I said. "If Jason does get me, he'll
be rescuing me, not capturing me."
Gordon looked at Jude. "Can't you drug her again?" he asked.
I knew I'd been drugged! "Did you drug me that night on the beach, too, Jude?"
I demanded.
Jude ignored me. "I have to go," he said. "She's my
mother."
"What could Jason possibly do to her?" Gordon said.
"I told you, she hates him, and he hates her," said Jude.
"She's his mother," said Noah. "He's got to feel something for
her, doesn't he?"
"She didn't raise him," said Jude.
"But she's his blood," said Gordon. "That's an important tie. If
I ever met my biological parents, I would—"
"God, Gordon, not that again," said Noah. "Listen, Jude, why
don't you and I both go? Gordon can stay here with the girls."
"If something happens to me, you two can go on without me," said
Jude. "But we can't risk you too, Noah. I have to go alone."
"So how old are you, really, Jude?" I asked. "You can't be my
age, like you said, can you? Are you and Jason twins?"
"Of course not!" Jude roared. "Don't ever even suggest that
again."
"I don't see why you have to go alone," said Noah. "Wouldn't you
be safer with me along?"
"So, then, you've got to be at least a year younger than us," I said.
"Is Edgar Weem your dad too?"
"I'm going alone," said Jude. He turned to me. "Azazel, I don't
have time for your questions right now. Let's just hope your boyfriend hasn't
done anything to my mother that he's going to regret."
"How are you going to get there?" Noah asked.
"I'm taking the van," said Jude.
"So where are we going to be?" said Gordon.
"Here," said Jude.
"What if someone sees the girls?" said Gordon.
"Hide them," said Jude.
"Jude, I don't think this is a good plan," said Gordon.
"Me either," I said.
Gordon, Jude, and Noah all glared at me.
* * *
Jude was gone for a long time. When he returned, it
was dark outside. Lilith and I were cold, huddled against a tree, still tied
up. Gordon and Noah had led us away from the road, so that we were out of sight
in case a car came by. Not many cars had come by, though. It had been an
uneventful hour or two. Gordon and Noah didn't say much. Lilith was quiet too,
but she had a look of wild terror in her eyes. I felt very, very calm. I wasn't
worried at all.
I thought that was strange. I examined my lack of fear the way a scientist
might examine a specimen. I felt detached from myself. I didn't know whether or
not I should feel afraid. I just knew that feeling afraid wouldn't really do
much of anything for me right now. Feeling afraid would keep me from thinking
rationally. It would make me more likely to make a mistake, should an
opportunity arise to escape. Hell, it would make it more likely that I didn't
notice the opportunity arising. Overall, it made more sense to remain calm. Not
to be afraid. So, I wasn't.
But I remembered the way I'd felt, just months ago, when Jason and I had been
on the run from the Sons. I'd been in constant fear. Terror had gripped me and
hadn't let go the entire time. I wasn't afraid anymore, however. Maybe I was
desensitized to it. I realized that I hadn't felt that kind of crippling fear
in a long time. I hadn't felt it when I'd been grabbed in the parking lot
outside of the gun range. I'd been frightened when Mr. Sutherland was trying to
rape and kill me, but I hadn't been immobilized. I'd been able to act. To save
myself. What had changed?
I remembered that Mr. Sutherland had said, "Maybe you are imbued with the
spirit of a demon," as I'd been running away from him. And I supposed that
Jude or Noah or Gordon had completed the ritual. Was I . . .
But that was stupid.
I didn't believe in Azazel. I didn't believe that I'd been filled with his
essence. No. I was just more sure of myself now. Back then, I hadn't been able
to take care of myself. Now, I was stronger. I was capable.
And I couldn't imagine Noah and Gordon really hurting me. Not really.
Of course, I'd trusted my parents implicitly, and they'd set me up to be raped
by Toby. Clearly, I didn't pick the best people to trust. I was constantly
being betrayed by those I cared about the most and was closest to. I had to
admit that I couldn't be sure exactly what Gordon and Noah were planning to do
to me. And I couldn't be sure what they'd carry out, given the chance.
Now, they stood over Lilith and me, glaring down at us in the darkness, keeping
watch to make sure that we wouldn't leave. Compared to the temperatures I was
used to in
I was glad when Jude reappeared with the van. He looked dejected and angry,
however. He told Gordon and Noah that neither Jason nor Michaela had been there
when he arrived. Instead, there had been a note from Jason, telling Jude that
he'd meet him at the house the following afternoon. Jude was to bring me. They
would trade. If Jude didn't show up, or didn't bring me, the note said, then
Jason would hurt Michaela.
I shivered again when I heard that, not from the cold, but because I didn't
like the idea of Jason using his mother's well-being as a bargaining chip for
my safety. I didn't think he'd really hurt Michaela. Jason often relied on
other people's impression of him as a dangerous guy. He used it as leverage to
get what he wanted. When we were escaping from
But it was different, because Jude was Jason's brother. Somehow, it just rubbed
me the wrong way. I was relieved, however, because I thought that it meant
Lilith and I would be released tomorrow. Jude wouldn't let anything happen to his
mother.
But Jude didn't want to trade. He said that he wouldn't give in to Jason's
demands, ever. It was too important that Jason be destroyed. Gordon and Noah
seemed to agree. I was disappointed.
They decided they couldn't go back to Michaela's house if Jason had it under
surveillance. They didn't want to take the chance that he'd sneak in and get me
out.
They led Lilith and I back to the van, stuffed us in the back, and we drove for
about twenty minutes. When they took us out of the van, we were parked outside
an old house. It was dark and difficult to see, but the house looked like a
rundown, white farmhouse. The wood siding was losing its paint. The windows
were shattered, or missing completely. Vines grew up the sides of the walls. A
sapling was breaking through the creaking wood of its porch. There was nothing
around, except woods. We were all alone out here.
I had to hand it to Jude. This was the perfect place to hide us. Jason would
never know to look for us here. And there was nowhere for me to escape to. It
seemed hopeless. If Jude continued to be stubborn and called Jason's bluff,
then Jason wouldn't have anything to bargain with.
What was I going to do? I had to get away from these guys. And I wasn't alone.
I had Lilith to worry about.
Chapter Eleven
To: Renegade Son
From: Edgar Weem
Subject: Calm down
Hallam,
We both know that it's too dangerous for me to speak to you on the phone. I
thought we'd also agreed that it was in everyone's best interests to keep
Jason's secrets and my secrets.
Please don't threaten me, Hallam. You shouldn't labor under the delusion that
you have power over me. You don't.
I have people on the Jason and Azazel situation. I'm sure we'll be able to
locate them soon.
Edgar
Lilith and I slept on the floor in a room in the
abandoned house. We were still tied up. It was hard to get comfortable. Jude
and my brothers only gave us one blanket, so we huddled against each other for
warmth. They told us that one of them would be watching the door at all times.
There didn't seem much hope of escape.
I didn't feel much like snuggling against Lilith. Even though it had turned out
that she wasn't working for the Satanists, I still couldn't bring myself to
actually like her. I knew that I should feel bad for getting her into this
situation. But mostly I just felt annoyed. It would be much easier for me to
try to escape if I didn't have to worry about Lilith.
It was cold though, so I got close to her for body warmth. We lay in the dark,
listening to the sounds of insects in the woods surrounding the abandoned
house.
"Azazel," whispered Lilith.
"What?" I said.
"Do you think that they're going to make me go back to Bramford?"
Of course she was only worried about herself. What about Jason? What about me?
"I'm going to get us out of this," I said.
"How?" she said.
"I don't know yet," I told her. "But I will. I promise you. And
after that . . ." After that, I wanted her to go away, and I never wanted
to see her again.
"It's okay," she said. "I know I haven't been the greatest best
friend to you."
That was an understatement. I kept my mouth shut.
"I'm sorry," she said. "It's just that girls like you get
everything. You're all sweet and naďve, and guys just eat that shit up. They
fall in love with girls like you. And just because I'm not like that. Well, no
one's ever going to fall in love with me, Zaza. I know it was wrong, but I—I
couldn't handle it. I wanted to . . . ruin it, somehow. Like if I couldn't have
it, I didn't want you to have it, either."
That was the most twisted thing I'd ever heard. "Lilith," I said,
"you're the kind of girl that guys want. They want someone experienced,
with big boobs and curves."
"No," she said. "They don't. They might want to have sex with
me, but they don't really want someone like me. They want someone like you. No
one wants me."
Poor Lilith. I rolled my eyes in the darkness. "I'm sure that someday
you'll find someone," I said. "We're only seventeen. We've got
time."
Lilith shivered under the covers. "I don't think so," she said.
"In Bramford, I met Michaela Weem once. She came to visit after your
parents died. She looked into my eyes, and she said that I would never be
loved. Not even once before I died."
"Forget Michaela Weem," I said. "Seriously, Lilith. You can't
believe that."
When the sun came up, it poured in through the windows, waking me up. Lilith
was still asleep next to me. I lay on my back for a few minutes, surveying my
surroundings. The room we were in was devoid of decoration or furniture, except
for some peeling wallpaper on the walls. The floor was hardwood, splintering
and warped in places. Two unadorned large windows blazed sunlight into the
space.
Windows!
Why hadn't I thought of this last night?
Probably because it had been too dark to even see that the windows existed.
Carefully, I wriggled out from under the blanket. Next to me, Lilith made a
noise in her sleep but didn't wake up. It wasn't easy getting to my feet while
my hands were tied behind my back, but I finally managed it, scooting to the
wall and using it for support. Once standing, I walked over to one of the
windows. The glass in it rippled a little. It was clearly old glass, which was
probably a bad sign. It looked strong.
But I could probably just unlock the window and open it, provided the windows
weren't nailed shut. Then Lilith and I could climb out of the window. We were
on the second story, but it looked like we'd drop onto several springy bushes
that surrounded the house. That should help to cushion our fall. Plus, as near
as I could tell, we weren't up so high that a drop would cause us to break a
limb or anything. I didn't think.
Of course, I realized that my hands were tied behind my back. I couldn't unlock
or open the window without my hands. Breaking the window was pretty much out of
the question too. We didn't have any furniture. Besides, that would be loud,
and someone might hear me doing that, come rushing in, and put an end to my
escape attempt.
As if reading my thoughts, Jude opened the door and strode into the room. I
turned my back to the window, hoping he wouldn't realize I'd been contemplating
an escape route.
"You're awake," he said.
I nodded. "I hope you've come in here to tell me that you've come to your
senses and you're going to trade me for your mother this afternoon."
Jude sneered. "No way," he said. "Jason doesn't tell me what to
do."
Something about the edge to his voice let me know he was serious. He hated
Jason. I could see that now. And to think, all that time in Bramford, Jason had
known that there was something off about Jude, and I'd never noticed. I should
have trusted Jason, but hindsight was twenty-twenty.
"I don't know how he found us, anyway," Jude said. "How could he
have had any idea who took you?"
I shrugged. "Well, Jason's pretty amazing." But Jude was right, now
that I thought about it. How had Jason figured it out so quickly? He'd beaten
us to
Jude glowered at me. "So I hear. Been spending my whole life hearing about
Jason."
I didn't say anything.
"My mother never shut up about him. About her visions. About the
abomination. But I used to wonder why, if he was such an abomination, she spent
so much time talking about him." Jude walked around me and stood at the
window himself. He stared through the glass. "If it weren't for the fact
that everyone else is convinced that you have to kill him, I'd kill him myself.
"He's so self-righteous," Jude continued. "Thinking he can
protect you. That night on the beach, he never knew that I had performed the
ritual and placed the bell in your bag. Dingle's bell. There was a certain
poetry to the way that it represented Azazel and also fit the ritual. It was
just like Azazel to steal something from an authority figure for his own purposes.
Like weapons. Like fire. I thought of that. Me. And
I carried it out. And Jason never knew. He was clueless."
"I'll never kill him," I said. "You have to know that. You know
how much I love him."
Jude snorted, still not looking at me. "You two have been arguing a hell
of a lot, though, haven't you? And for all you know, he was screwing
Lilith."
"He was not. There's no way he . . ." Jude was wrong.
Jude turned back from the window. He took my arm and began to lead me out of
the room. "We've got some things to show you, Azazel," he said. He
smiled. "But, just between us, I kind of hope you're right. I hope that
when it comes down to it, you aren't able to kill him after all, because I'd
love to step in and finish the job."
I jerked my arm out of his grasp. "You're no match for Jason," I
said.
He snatched my arm back. "We'll just see about that, won't we?"
* * *
Noah had a laptop, which was running off battery
power. There wasn't any electricity in the abandoned house. Gordon had the
laptop open and was crouched over it on the floor. We were all in a large room
on the first floor. Probably a parlor or a sitting room of some kind. There
wasn't any furniture in this room, either, but the walls were decorated in
graffiti. Someone had spray painted a large message proclaiming that Randy
loved Sara, "4-ever + always." There was also a distorted mural of a
naked woman on one of the walls, also rendered in spray paint.
"Gordon, you're going to run the battery down," Noah was saying.
Jude was still clutching my arm. We stood together in the doorway.
"This battery will last hours," said Gordon.
"Not if it's running video," said Noah.
"It's not running video right now," said Gordon.
"No, but—"
Jude cleared his throat. Both of my brothers turned to look at us.
"Where's Lilith?" asked Gordon.
"Still asleep in the room," said Jude.
"Should someone be watching her?" asked Gordon.
Jude glared at him, but he dropped my arm and left the room. Noah got up and
came to me. He untied my hands, and I stretched them, rubbing my fingers
against each other. I hadn't realized how uncomfortable I'd been tied up until
I wasn't. Noah led me further into the room.
"Sit down," he told me.
"What's going on?" I asked.
"We have some things to show you," said Gordon.
"Show me?" I asked. How? What were they going to show me?
Gordon set the laptop down in front of me, so that the screen was facing me. He
had a video file open. It was paused, but I could see a woman's face, frozen in
the middle of speech.
"What is this?" I asked.
"We're just not sure that you know everything about Jason that there is to
know," said Noah. "We want to make sure you're informed, little
sis."
"I know Jason better than I know anyone on earth," I countered,
folding my arms over my chest.
"So you know about the sorority girls," said Gordon.
"Yes," I said. "I do." But I remembered something that
Hallam had said to me, in the kitchen in our apartment. Something about what
Jason had done that night. And the way I remembered it, Jason had told me that
he hadn't done anything but watch.
Gordon raised his eyebrows. "You do?"
I stared him down.
Gordon reached around the laptop and hit play on the video. The woman's face
unfroze. She was young—maybe
in her mid-twenties. She had a large scar on her face. It twisted over her
features, purple and contorted. Her voice was halting and hesitant.
"They left me for dead," she was saying.
An off-screen voice asked, "So, they didn't leave any intentional
survivors?"
"No. They were there to kill us all," she said.
"And do you know why they came to kill you?"
"I don't know. I really don't know. They said something about us running a
brothel or something, but that was just stupid. We were a sorority. We had
boyfriends. Maybe sometimes, girls even had flings. But we weren't doing
anything wrong or anything illegal."
"And they've never caught the men who did this?"
"Caught them? They've hardly even looked for them. At the beginning, there
was a lot of media attention and the police made a lot of promises. But they
only talked to me once. And they've never made any arrests. They say they don't
have any evidence."
I looked at Noah and Gordon. "I don't really think there's any reason for
me to watch this," I said. "Jason told me all about it."
"Just keep watching," said Gordon.
I rolled my eyes. Sure, this was a horrible, terrible thing that Hallam had
done. But both Hallam and Jason had been acting under the direction of the
Sons. None of it had been their idea. And the Sons demanded that their members
blindly obey.
"Can you tell us what happened that night?" asked the unseen voice on
the video.
The girl looked away from the camera. "I can try," she said, but her
voice sounded unsteady.
"Take your time."
The girl took a deep breath. She didn't look back at the camera, but instead
down at the ground. "There were two of them," she said. "They
were both young. One was maybe twenty or so. The other one was a kid. He
couldn’t have been more than fifteen or sixteen. That was what disturbed me the
most. The fact that he was just a kid. He looked so innocent. He didn't seem
the least bit bothered by what was going on. It seemed so normal for him."
I bit my lip. I knew it wasn't normal for Jason. It had really disturbed him. I
remembered the way he'd talked to me about it. The haunted, empty look in his
eyes. This woman didn't know what she was talking about.
"I didn't know what was going on in the beginning," she continued,
"because I was asleep in my bedroom. It was late. Maybe two in the morning
or something. I don't know. Anyway, I woke up and there was this figure
standing over my bed with a gun. It was the kid. He told me to get up and come
with him. He had three of the other girls with him. Apparently, he was rounding
everyone up out of their beds. I didn't know why. If they were just going to
kill us all, wouldn't it have been more merciful just to put bullets in our
heads while we slept? Why did he have to wake me up? Why did he have to make me
watch?"
The girl put her head in her hands and started to cry softly.
I looked away. I didn't want to know this. I really didn't think I wanted to
know this. "It doesn't matter what you show me," I said to Noah and
Gordon. "You can't change how I feel about Jason."
"Just watch," said Noah.
The unseen voice was speaking, gently. "Isn't it true that they did
discover some of the girls shot in their beds?"
The girl raised her tearstained face. "Yes, the police said that they did.
But there were at least ten of us that the kid rounded up. He took us downstairs,
into our kitchen and he made us stand in the middle of the room. He sat on the
counter and talked to us."
"Talked to you? What did he say?"
"The stuff about the brothel, like I said. He said that he had to do it,
because we were doing illegal and immoral things. He didn't seem upset about it
at all. He didn't even seem sorry. He was very matter-of-fact about it. While
he was talking, Tami—she was
the president of the sorority—she
managed to get hold of a butcher knife. I could see that she had it, but I
didn't let on. I didn't know what she thought she was going to do with it, but
she had it.
"Then," continued the girl, "the other guy came in. The older
guy. He and the kid started to argue. The older guy was saying that the kid was
making it harder than it needed to be. They should just shoot them and be done
with it. There wasn't any reason to drag it out. And the kid was saying that we
deserved to know why we were dying. And they were yelling at each other. They
were distracted, and Tami snuck up behind the older guy. She had the knife, and
she started to raise it to . . . I don't know . . . stab him, maybe, I . . .
But the kid saw her. And then . . ."
The girl looked away again, shaking her head.
"What happened then?" prompted the voice.
"I don't really know," said the girl. "It was dark and it was so
fast. There was all this gunfire and scuffling. And everyone started to try to
run then. But I couldn't move. I just stood there. I was frozen and I couldn't
move! The older guy ran out of the kitchen, chasing down the other girls. He
was yelling and screaming then. This crazy screaming. Like he was insane or
something. There was blood everywhere. And Tami was on the floor. She was
bleeding, but she was still alive. The kid was standing over her. He was
holding the knife. I was crying.
"I lurched forward all at once. Like I finally had control of my muscles
again. I fell on my knees next to Tami and the kid swung the knife at me. He
cut open my face, and I crumpled onto the floor and waited for him to kill me.
I was bleeding so much. It was getting all over the tile floor in the kitchen.
It was everywhere. I could hardly see through the blood. And I couldn't move.
Not really. I just lay there. And waited.
"The older guy came back into the room. He shot Tami in the forehead, and
she stopped moving. He looked at the kid and he said, 'Thanks. She was going to
kill
"The kid didn't say anything. He just stared down at Tami, still holding
the knife that was covered in my blood. He dropped the knife. It clattered to
the floor.
"'I'll always have your back like that,' said the older guy to the kid.
"But the kid didn't even look at him. 'Is she dead?' he said, pointing his
gun at Tami.
"'Yes,' said the older guy.
"And the kid just opened fire on her. He shot her and shot her and shot
her. Pumping bullets into her dead body, over and over and over again. And I
remember that I could see his face, while he was doing that. And . . . he was
smiling." The girl broke down into fresh sobs.
The video ended.
"Is that what Jason told you?" said Gordon pointedly.
I didn't say anything.
"Well is it?" asked Noah.
"He didn't give me a blow-by-blow," I muttered. "It's hard for
him to talk about."
"How could you love someone who was capable of something like that?"
asked Gordon. He sounded genuinely puzzled.
"How do I know this video is even real?" I asked. "Jason didn't
tell me that anyone survived. Maybe you guys just made it up. Maybe you got
some chick to tell some bogus story."
"So he didn't tell you much about it at all," said Noah.
"Maybe he even lied to you," said Gordon.
No. I didn't think he'd lied. Why tell me anything about it at all if he were
going to lie about it? If he were going to lie, wouldn't he just have lied and
said it never happened? That didn't make sense. And what I'd said was true.
Jason hadn't talked to me about the evening in detail.
I shook my head. "Or maybe you're lying to me," I said to them.
"After all, you've lied to me before. You lied to me about who our family
was. You've tricked me and betrayed me and captured me and tied me up. Why in
the hell would I trust you?"
"We're your family, Azazel," said Gordon. "We're bound together.
You may not understand everything we do, but we do it because we want the best
for you."
I snorted. "Right," I said. "You keep trying to turn me into a
vessel for an ancient demon so I can commit murder. That's totally the best
thing for me."
"That's the best thing for the world, Azazel," said Noah. "Jason
is evil. I don't know why you can't see that. He's a being who lives only for
destruction and pain. He delights in harming others. He has no regard for human
life. The idea of my little sister being under the influence of someone like
that is driving me crazy. Yeah, maybe tying you up has been a little extreme.
But this is an extreme situation. We're talking about the fate of the human
race here."
I gazed at Noah in disbelief. "You really believe that junk? You really
believe Michaela Weem?" I looked at Gordon. "You really believe it too?"
"Tradition, Azazel," said Gordon. "This is the way of our
family. We can't abandon our roots. It binds us together. It makes us who we
are."
"Michaela Weem is a prophet," said Noah.
"Jason's not evil," I said.
"You've seen him kill people," said Noah.
"Only to protect me," I said. "Only to protect himself."
"And the girls in the sorority house?"
"He didn't kill any of them," I said. "That girl didn't see him
kill any of them either."
"So you do believe the video is genuine?" asked Gordon.
"No," I said. "I don't. I don't know what I believe. But I know
that I trust Jason more than I trust the two of you."
"You trust Jason?" said a voice. It was Jude. He was standing in the
doorway with Lilith, whose hands were still tied behind her back. "That's
why you and I went to that party in
I looked at Jude. "It's not the same," I said.
"If he was lying to you about Lilith, then he might have been lying about
anything," said Jude.
"Nothing was going on between me and Jason," said Lilith.
Jude laughed. "Oh, tell the truth, Lilith. Or are you afraid your friend
Azazel won't like you anymore?" He paused. "Oh, wait. I forgot. She
already hates your guts. What have you got to lose really?"
"That is the truth," said Lilith. "Nothing was going on."
I swallowed. "What about that conversation I heard you two having? What
were you going to show Jason? What did you show Jason?"
Lilith rolled her eyes. "Jesus, Zaza. We're being held against our will by
crazy people in the middle of nowhere, and you're worried about whether or not
I flashed Jason?"
"You flashed Jason?" I repeated.
Lilith pressed her lips together.
"Ready to see some more?" asked Gordon.
"More?" I said.
It went on for hours. Gordon and Noah had more videos. Testimonies from people
in two other incidents. One Jason had told me about. A gang war that the Sons
had ordered him to be a part of. One that Jason hadn't. It involved
vigilante-style justice carried out on a gang of bank robbers who'd slaughtered
all their hostages. The robbers had escaped a jail sentence because of a
technicality. In the videos, faces stared bleakly into the camera. They
described Jason. He was always wielding a gun. He was always calm. He was never
sorry. According to the testimonies on the videos, Jason was a cold and
efficient killer. However, I did have to note that none of the testimonies
featured a person who had actually witnessed Jason killing anyone. And none of
the testimonies were about Jason working alone. Still, there were chilling
similarities. According to several people, Jason had surveyed the dead bodies
with a smile on his face. Jason also seemed fond of herding people in one place
and explaining to them why they were being killed. Whether he actually did the
killing or Hallam did wasn't clear. I told myself it didn't matter.
But as the day wore on, I began to wonder if it did.
After a barrage of video, Noah and Gordon dug through the rest of their
evidence. Police reports. Transcripts of interviews. Photographs of dead
bodies. They showed me the pictures of the kitchen in the sorority house. There
was blood spattered on the ceiling. They showed me a picture of Tami's body.
Her face was mottled with bullet holes—her
features barely recognizable. With everything they showed me, they pressed me.
How could someone do these kinds of things and not be evil? How could I claim
to love someone like this? Why couldn't I see that Jason was a monster?
I refused to talk to them after a while. I refused to answer their questions. I
didn't know what to say. I felt like I knew Jason well, but I was realizing
that I knew very little about Jason's past. I had never really tried to get him
tell me about it, because I had assumed that it was too painful for him to talk
about it. It didn't matter. I loved Jason for who he was. I loved Jason because
he was everything to me. So I didn't ask. I didn't demand he spell out
everything for me. Besides, after we'd gotten to
I told myself that the Jason that I knew was a kind and good person. But I
couldn't help but remember the way that Jason had ripped at my clothes in a
hotel in
Worst of all, I remembered things that Michaela Weem had said to me when we'd
met her in November. Things like Jason was going to burn thousands of people
and that he was going to eat me alive. Things like our combined power would
drive men mad. And—
It had!
I didn't like to think about that. Jason and I had never talked about it. Maybe
it was because it scared us too much to acknowledge that it had actually
happened. But a group of ten or fifteen members of the Sons had all gone crazy.
Right after Jason and I kissed. They'd been trying to shoot us and then they'd
all just come completely mentally unglued, wandering around like frightened
children.
It had been easy for me to dismiss the event. I'd told myself I didn't believe
what Michaela Weem had said. I'd told myself that she was crazy. I'd told
myself that I didn't believe in fate or destiny. I'd told myself that as long
as I believed in Jason, in us, then none of that mattered.
But it did matter.
It was time I was honest with myself, even if I wouldn't be honest with Jude
and my brothers. I was terrified of Jason. I was terrified of Jason and me
together.
It had been easy, all of those months, to blame my uneasiness and fear on
external sources like the Sons. If I were afraid of the Sons, I could fight
them. I had control. I could learn to shoot guns. I could spin conspiracy
theories about Mr. Sutherland and bells being put in my purse. As long as it
was something outside of myself, then I could fight it. But the truth was, I
was completely out of control.
I didn't know who Jason was. I didn't know who I was. I didn't know who we were
together. The Sons thought Jason was the Rising Sun—a messiah who would unite the world under one
government. The Satanists thought Jason was evil incarnate—a monster who would destroy free will
and enslave the world. The Satanists thought I was the messiah—the one sent to kill Jason and end
his reign of terror. As for what the Sons thought of me, I had no idea. I'd
thought that I was nothing more than a blip on their radar until Sutherland had
showed me those email messages and hinted that the Sons thought that I was the
Kali to Jason's Shiva. His dark half. Finally, there were Michaela Weem's
prophecies. She said that her visions had changed when Jason had showed up in
my life. She said that now she saw visions in which Jason and I did horrible
things together.
Whoever you asked, they thought that Jason and I were powerful. And they all
thought that there was some sort of capacity for badness in the cards for the
two of us.
I was away from Jason now. Maybe I was getting a little bit of distance on the
situation. I'd been raised to believe that I made my own destiny. I didn't want
to believe that there was anything to what anyone else said about Jason and I.
Especially when these people were trying to predict the future, something I
regarded as impossible. But the Sons and the Satanists came from completely
different backgrounds. They had nothing in common with each other. Except for
the fact that they'd both picked Jason and me as either a messianic or
destructive force. They disagreed about which was which, but that wasn't really
important.
Could it really just be a coincidence?
Or could it be true somehow? Were Jason and I powerful? Did one of us or both
of us together have the capacity to destroy the world?
I didn't know what I thought about the stories that Gordon and Noah were
telling me. I didn't know if I believed them. And I didn't know if it mattered
to me if Jason were actually a killer or not. I was really more concerned, I
realized, not with the fact that Jason might have killed people, but with the
idea that Jason might have lied to me about it. I'd always thought that the
first people he'd killed had been the members of the Sons who'd killed my
parents. I did know that I had to face up to the evidence about Jason and me.
As more and more of it piled up, I had to realize that Jason and I weren't
normal. That we were vastly different than most teenagers. And that there might
be something about us, something special, something powerful, something
destructive. Even though the thought seemed insane, I was going to drive myself
insane if I didn't accept it.
I was sinking in my thoughts, drifting away. I didn't see the documents that
floated in front of me. I didn't hear Noah's or Gordon's voice anymore. I lost
track of all the things they showed me. None of it mattered anymore.
There was only one thing that mattered, and I told them when they were finally
finished. The floor of the abandoned room was littered with papers and manila
folders. I was sprawled Indian style on the floor, surveying my brothers, Jude,
Lilith, and the evidence. The afternoon sun streamed through the windows,
giving everything a lazy, tired glow. I looked them in the eye, one after
another, and I said, "It doesn't matter. I won't kill him. I'll never kill
him. I don't care what he's done."
I knew that was true, too. Even if I became convinced that Michaela Weem was
absolutely right, and that lurking somewhere inside Jason was the monster she
said was there—dangerous,
destructive, violent—even
then, I couldn’t kill Jason. I loved him too much.
Everyone stared at me as if there were something completely wrong with me.
Jude's phone rang. We all turned to look at him as he answered it. He didn't
say much, just listened. I watched his face contort in a mix of rage and pain.
He ripped the phone away from his ear and dashed it against the floor.
No one said anything.
Jude seethed, pacing in a frenzy.
Finally, Noah said, "What? What is it?"
Jude stopped. "It was him," he said.
"Jason?" asked Noah.
"I have to go," said Jude. He crossed the room to a suitcase that sat
in the corner. Knelt by it. Twisted the combination. Opened it. He took out the
keys to the van. So that was where they kept them, was it? Now, if only I could
figure out some way to get down here to that suitcase. Maybe tonight. But how
was I going to get past the combination?
"Wait, you can't just go," said Noah. He was on his feet, moving to
intercept Jude.
"I'm going," Jude said, weaving around him.
Gordon had stood up too. "You can't hurt Jason!" he called after
Jude. "Azazel has to—"
"Fuck Azazel," retorted Jude, and he was out the door.
We heard the van start and drive off.
"Dammit," said Gordon, staring after him.
* * *
Less than twenty minutes later, the door to the house
burst open and Jude came barreling back in. He was carrying a bundle of cloth.
It had red stains on it. Was there something inside it?
Gordon got to his feet and stalked over to Jude. "You can't just run off
like that," he said. "You can't just take the van. What if there was
an emergency?"
"Emergency?" repeated Jude. "This was an emergency."
"What happened?" asked Noah.
Jude clutched the bundle tighter. "If he'd only been there when I'd gotten
there, I would have—"
"You wouldn't have done anything," said Gordon sharply. "Because
this isn't just about you."
"But it's about my mother!" Jude said, his face twisting like he was
about to cry. "He's got mymother.
Do you understand that?"
"What happened?" said Noah.
"What happened?" repeated Jude. "What happened! That
bastard!" And Jude choked up.
"Jude?" prompted Noah.
Jude flung the bundle of cloth at Noah. Noah caught it awkwardly. He knelt and
set it on the floor. Then he stared at it. It was close to where I sat. I could
see it better now. It looked like a ripped piece of dress or skirt. And the red
stains had a brown tint to the edges. They were some kind of liquid. The liquid
was still wet.
I refused to let my brain make the logical connection. Jason wouldn't have . .
. Jason had been bluffing, like I'd thought. When Jude called his bluff, he
hadn't . . . He couldn't . . .
"Unwrap it," Jude ordered, his voice harsh.
Noah hesitated.
"Do it!" Jude said.
Gingerly, Noah began to pull away at the edges of the cloth, peeling it back so
that he could see what was inside.
Abruptly, he jumped back and cried out a little, tossing the bundle away from him.
It landed right in front of me. I swallowed hard, but I couldn't help myself. I leaned forward.
Looked inside.
It was a finger.
hapter Twelve
Text message transcript between Jason Wodden and
Hallam
Jason Wodden: any tips for cauterizing a wound?
Hallam
Jason Wodden: am fine. not my wound. have u done it before or not?
Hallam
Jason Wodden: can't. i tried to do it and botched it. wound still bleeding
heavily.
Hallam
Wakefield: give me your location.
Hallam Wakefield: jason?
I let out a little gasp. Muffled it immediately with
my hand. I wanted to look away, but I couldn't. The severed finger sat inside
the stained cloth, blood still seeping from it. It was a woman's index finger.
She had a long, manicured nail. "Oh," I whispered, shaking my head.
"Oh, oh, oh."
Gordon pushed past Jude to see what was in the bundle. He turned on his heel
and went back to Jude, grabbing Jude by the shoulders. "How did you get
this? What happened?"
Jude was sobbing. Huge tears were spilling out of eyes. He didn't talk. He
didn't look at Gordon. He just cried.
Gordon shook Jude hard. "Stop it," Gordon ordered. "Talk to me,
Jude."
"He called me," Jude said through his tears.
"We were all here when that happened," said Gordon. "What did he
say?"
"He said . . ." Jude's sobs cut him off.
Gordon shook Jude again. "What did he say?"
"He said, 'Your mother has something she'd like to tell you.' And then I
heard her screaming and screaming and screaming. And then he hung up."
Jude sniffled. "When I got there, I found this. It was still warm."
"Oh," I whispered. "Oh. Oh."
"Jesus," said Noah.
He did it. He did it. He actually hurt Michaela because I didn't show up. Oh
God. Oh God. Jason.
"There was another note," said Jude. "It said that if I didn't
bring Azazel tomorrow, I'd find more pieces." He shuddered.
"She's his own mother," said Gordon, dropping Jude's shoulders and
coming to look at the finger again. "How could do that to his
mother?"
"He's evil," whispered Noah. "He's just pure evil." He
looked at me. "And you won't kill him."
I stood up then. "It's a trick!" I screamed.
"What?" said Jude.
I advanced on Jude. "It's a trick," I repeated. "It's not a real
finger. It's not a real finger. You're just trying to get me to kill Jason.
You're all lying to me!" I shoved Jude then, hard.
He stumbled back from me, surprised. There were still tears in his eyes and his
nose was running. He recovered, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand, a
movement that made him look so much like Jason, it hurt. "You think I'm
faking this?" he demanded.
"You faked everything else," I shrieked, shoving him again.
Jude shoved me back.
"Hey," said Gordon, grabbing me and pulling me away from Jude.
"Don't shove my sister."
Jude flipped him off. "Her fucking boyfriend is cutting up my
mother!" he yelled. "I'll shove her if I feel like it."
Gordon put me behind him. "Jude," he said. "Give me the keys to
the van."
"No," said Jude. Jude reached behind Gordon and grasped my wrist. He
yanked me over to him. "No," he said. "No, I'm taking Azazel,
and I'm taking the van, and she's going to tell me where the hell Jason
is."
I tried to pull away from Jude. "I don't know where he is," I said.
"Jude," said Gordon, "let go of Azazel." He moved forward,
reaching for me.
"No," said Jude, and he reached into his jacket and pulled out a gun.
Gordon stopped moving.
"Shit," said Noah.
"Put down the gun, Jude," said Gordon, but his voice was shaking.
Jude aimed the gun at Gordon, then at Noah. Then he put the gun to my temple.
In a sick sense of déjŕ vu, I remembered Jason holding me this way, tight
against his body, a gun to my head. But I'd trusted Jason. I didn't trust Jude.
"We're going," said Jude. "Don't try and stop me."
Jude backed up, dragging me with him.
"Jude," said Noah, "let's talk about this."
"One more word," said Jude, "and I blow her head off."
I didn't think he was serious. After all, his big plan was to get me to tell
him where Jason was, which he couldn't do if I was dead. But I didn't know.
Jude was pretty upset. I willed Noah and Gordon to shut up.
They stared after us as Jude led me to the car, their eyes wide and luminous.
Once outside, Jude threw open the door to the van and forced me inside. He
slammed the door after me and hurried around to the other side. I watched him
as he started the car, backed up the van, and pulled away from the house. I
turned away from him once, to see that Noah and Gordon had both come out on the
ruined porch of the abandoned house and that they were gazing after the van as
it left. Then I turned back to Jude.
Jude was steering with one hand. The other hand was gripping the gun so tight
that his knuckles were white. I thought about saying something to him. I
decided not to. He was the one with the gun, after all. He was in charge.
We drove in silence for some time. The road ahead of us wound through the
backwoods of
"He's got to be here somewhere," Jude said more to himself than to
me. "He's close. Close enough to cut off her finger and leave it there
still bleeding. Where is he?"
I didn't say anything.
"Where is he, Azazel?" he said, rage filling his voice.
"I don't know," I said softly.
"And if you did, you wouldn't tell me, would you?" he said.
It didn't really seem wise to answer that question. "I don't know where he
is," I repeated.
Jude swallowed. "You understand why I'm so upset, don't you?" he
asked.
What was this? Was he looking to me for reassurance? He was the one with the
gun.
"She's my mother," he continued. "She's all I've ever had. Maybe
sometimes I got angry with her. Maybe sometimes I even hated her, but I can't
let anything happen to her."
"Trade me tomorrow, then," I said. "What do you care? Your
mother will be safe."
"No," said Jude. "No, I can't do that. Then Jason wins. I can't
let Jason win."
"Even if it means your mother gets hurt?" Maybe it wasn't a good idea
to push him like this, but he seemed vulnerable. Besides, if I could focus on
how Jude was feeling, then I didn't have to think about the fact that Jason had
cut off his own mother's finger. My Jason. Had tortured someone. What did that
mean?
"You don't understand," said Jude. "She'd never forgive me if I
gave in like that." He shook his head. "If I gave you up, she'd hate
me. Us finding you and getting you and convincing you to kill Jason is the most
important thing in the world to her. If I ruined that for her, she'd . .
."
"She'd what?" I asked. "She wouldn't be grateful that you saved
her life?"
"Of course not. Her life isn't important. Not unless she gets you to
destroy Jason."
We'd reached the end of
"Did you grow up in
I could what? Did I think Jude was still my best friend or something? He had
just threatened to kill me.
"Yes," said Jude. "I've lived here my whole life. Until I went
to
Jude took another turn, this time onto a dirt road. The van bumped along the
rocky road.
"I hate it here," he said. "I was so happy to get away."
He hated it here? "But your mother is here," I said.
"I hate my mother," said Jude.
What? "But you just said that—"
"I know what I said." Jude pulled the car over onto the shoulder. He
put his gun inside his jacket. He turned the keys in the ignition and pocketed
them.
"We're stopping?" I said.
"I can't talk to you while I'm driving," said Jude. "I can't
concentrate."
"Okay," I said. What did he want to talk about?
Jude shook his head. "Oh, Azazel," he said, looking close to tears
again. "I don't know how everything got so screwed up."
For that matter, I didn't either.
He looked away from me. Up, at the interior of the van. "You don't know
what it was like growing up here. Everyone knew my mother was Crazy Lady Weem.
Everyone hated me. I defended her, but they used to beat me up anyway. And when
I got home, it wasn't much better. All she talked about was Jason. All the
time. The abomination. How to destroy him. How to end the madness she'd created.
"My mother got pregnant with me almost as soon as she'd had Jason,"
Jude said. "And she never told me who my father was. She always said that
I was her second chance. That I was the great light. What she had brought into
being to correct her mistake. But she never really seemed to love me. She never
seemed to see me as anything other than a tool she could use to stop Jason. So,
I was always lonely. But I didn't know that I was. I didn't know what it was
that I wanted. I'd never had anyone. I'd never had any friends. Not until
you."
"Jude—" I started,
then stopped. What was I supposed to say to that?
"I know," he said. "We're not friends. Not really. But that time
that I spent in
"You faked a lot," I said. "You faked who you were. You're not
even gay, are you?"
"No," he said. "But I thought I'd be less threatening to Jason
if you thought I was."
"That worked well," I muttered.
Jude laughed. "Yeah, I guess he was still pretty threatened."
"He knew," I said. "He saw through you." And I hadn't. And
what was I doing now? Was I comforting Jude? Jude, who'd betrayed me? I sighed.
"You drugged me, performed Satanic rituals on my sleeping body, hit me
with a baseball bat, and most recently threatened to blow off my head."
"I know," said Jude. "And I'm kind of sorry about that. I don't
know. I wish that . . . that it could be real. The way things were. The way we
talked. All of that stuff."
He looked at me with sad eyes, and he was my old Jude again. Was this an act?
Was he trying to get something out of me by acting like this?
"I don't know where Jason is," I said. "Saying this stuff isn't
going to make me tell you where he is."
"I know that," said Jude. "I know you don't know where he
is."
"So, then, why'd you take me away?"
Jude looked at his fingers. "I don't know," he said finally. "I
didn't really think about that. I was really angry and upset. I didn't know
what to do."
This wasn't the way that Jude should be acting after he'd captured me. He
wasn't supposed to get all vulnerable and honest. How was I supposed to react
to that? If he'd been cruel, if he'd been angry, if he'd waved the gun in my
face, then I would have known how to act. After all, I'd been in that situation
before. But now, with Jude so unsure of himself, I suddenly felt unsure of
myself.
"You liked me, didn't you?" Jude asked. "You trusted me?"
I looked at him. I half-smiled. "Of course I liked you, Jude. You were my
best friend. I told you everything."
"Not everything," said Jude. "You kept your secrets. Yours and
Jason's. You were very loyal to that."
"I wanted to keep you safe," I said. "Back then, I thought that
you didn't know anything about all of this. I thought if you knew, you'd be in
danger."
"You were worried about me?"
"Of course."
"No one's ever been worried about me before," Jude said.
"That can't be true," I said. "I'm sure your mother—"
"No," said Jude. "She doesn't worry about me. She expects me to
worry about her, but she doesn't care if I live or die."
"Jude—"
"No one cares if I live or die," he said.
We were quiet for several long minutes. Then finally, I said it, because it was
true. "I care."
"No, you don't."
"I do," I said. "God knows why. You've done nothing but betray
me."
Outside, twilight was stealing over the
He smiled at me through the darkening interior of the van. "Thank
you," he whispered.
We didn't speak again for quite some time. Outside, it got darker. The stars
began to peek through the blackening blanket of the sky.
"I'm sorry about your mother," I finally said. "I don't . . . I
don't know why he did that."
Jude didn't respond at first. Then he said, "I do."
"You do?" I was confused.
"He did it because of you," said Jude. "He did it because he'd
do anything to get you back. Don't you remember what you said to me back in
I did. "Yes," I said. "But—"
"You said it scared you."
I turned away.
"Does it still scare you?"
I hesitated. "Yes," I said.
"It scares me when you're scared," said Jude. "You're so brave,
Azazel. I saw you take down Sutherland when he tried to carry you off outside
the shooting range. I couldn't believe you actually went after him the next
day. You're brave."
"I was scared," I said. "You saw me after I ran away from
Sutherland."
"Yeah," he said. "You were crying. I held you."
I remembered. I remembered the feeling of Jude's arms around me and how similar
they'd felt to Jason's arms. How obvious it should have been to me then. They
were so similar. Why couldn't I have seen that they were brothers?
"I liked that," Jude said.
"You were very comforting," I said.
Jude's hand snaked across the van to snatch mine. "But I'm not him,"
he said.
"Jude?" I asked.
"I'm not as comforting as he is," he said. "I can't protect you
the way he does."
I squeezed Jude's hand. "I'm not sure if I particularly like the way Jason
is protecting me these days."
"Because he scares you?"
"Yeah."
"Do I scare you?"
I cocked my head, trying to look at him in the scant light, considering.
"No," I said finally. "You don't scare
"Good," he said. "I don't want to scare you."
"Really?" I said. "Is that why you dragged me off at gunpoint
earlier?"
"I just wanted to get you away," Jude said. "I don't know. I
wanted to talk to you." He sighed. "It's weird. But I was upset, and
the only person I could think of that I wanted to be around was you."
He was still holding my hand. It was dark inside the van, and I could barely
make out his outline as he leaned closer to me, his face inching nearer and
nearer to mine.
Was he going to kiss me?
Jude kept leaning in towards me.
He couldn't be trying to kiss me, could he?
His nose brushed mine.
He was trying
to kiss me.
I hesitated for a second, and then I let him. I held my breath as his lips
touched mine. They were warm and soft. I slid my hands inside Jude's jacket,
tracing the outline of his ribcage.
And grasped his gun, drawing it out of his pocket.
Jude pulled back, surprised, but I already had the safety off and my finger on
the trigger. I whipped the gun up, resting the barrel under Jude's chin.
"That was very, very stupid, Jude," I said softly.
His eyes were wide. "Azazel?"
"You couldn't have really thought that I wanted to kiss you, could
you?" He'd bought it. He'd actually thought that I was feeling sorry for
him. He'd thought that I had romantic feelings for him. I didn't. Jude
disgusted me. I might sort of half-pity him, like a wounded dog or something.
But he wasn't my friend.
I smiled, feeling pretty damned proud of myself. "Here's what's going to
happen, Jude. Very slowly, you're going to give me the keys to the van. I'm
going to take them. Then you're going to open the door and get out of the van.
You're going to start walking away from the van. While you're walking, you're
going to count. You'll keep walking until you've counted to, I don't know, a
hundred. And you're going to keep walking and counting, even if you hear the
van start and you hear me drive away, because if you do turn around, I'm going
to shoot you. And you were with me when we went to the shooting range, Jude, so
you know that I could very probably hit you, even if I'd driven the van away.
You might think that maybe I'd be paying attention to driving and that I
wouldn't see you turn around, but you aren't going to want to take that chance,
so you're going to keep walking and keep counting. Do you understand?"
"Yeah," Jude said hoarsely, still looking astounded at this turn of
events.
"Good," I said. "Give me the keys."
Jude reached into his pocket and handed them to me.
"Now open the door and get out of the van," I said, moving the gun
away from his chin and aiming it at his forehead. "Slowly."
Jude tried to move slowly, but he lost his balance and tumbled out of the van.
As he got up and brushed himself off, I moved into the driver's seat. I rolled
down the window and pulled the door shut, aiming the gun at Jude through the
open window. "Now turn around," I said. "And walk."
Jude started walking, his back to me.
"Count to a hundred!" I yelled after him as I started the van.
And I peeled out of the dirt road as fast as I could, without one look back at
Jude. Back on the main road, I turned back towards
It was harder to drive the van than I'd imagined. I'd never driven a car that
was this high above the ground before. Also, it was disconcerting not to be
able to see the nose of the van. I didn't feel bad at all for leaving Jude out
in the middle of nowhere. It was only a few miles out of town, after all. Plus,
he'd taken me away at gun point.
Mostly, I guessed I was grateful. An emotional Jude had been much easier to get
away from than both of my brothers and Jude. I also now had wheels. Things were
definitely looking up for the first time since I'd been captured in
It was odd that Jude had bared his soul to me in so much detail, but I really
didn't care. There were much more important things to worry about, like where
Jason was. If I could get to him, then I could get him to stop hurting Michaela
Weem. The both of us could get out of here.
Would we go back to
It didn't matter right now. I needed to find Jason first. We'd figure out the
other details later. Right now, the only thing I should be focusing on was
where Jason might be. And that was the problem, because I had no idea. We
didn't have anywhere to stay in
I blanched inwardly at the thought of Jason cutting off someone's finger. How
could he have done that? What was happening to him? But I shook it off. I
didn't have the luxury of worrying about that either. I had to find Jason.
I just had no idea where to look. If only I had my cell phone. I could just
call him. But I didn't have a cell phone. Sutherland had taken it. And even if
he hadn't, I was sure my brothers would have taken it when they captured me.
I'd look for a payphone, but I still didn't know Jason's number. Was there any
real point in trying to find a payphone, then? And where did they even have
payphones these days? Convenience stores?
So what was I going to do? Drive up and down the streets looking for Jason? Go
looking for other abandoned houses? Go door to door asking, "Have you seen
a teenage boy and a fingerless woman?"
That was ridiculous.
I drummed my fingers against the steering wheel, willing myself to think.
Think. I didn't have anywhere to go, except back to
Suddenly, I was beginning to feel as if things were not exactly looking up now
that I was away from Jude. Sure, I wasn't being held captive anymore, but I
didn't know what I was going to do. And what about Lilith? Sure, I hated her,
but could I really leave her at the hands of my brothers?
As if to add insult to injury, a car abruptly pulled out in front of me, a few
hundred feet up the road. It halted in the middle of the road, blocking my lane
and just stayed there, like it was a police roadblock or something. I swore and
slammed on my brakes, screeching to a halt just a few feet shy of colliding
with the car. It was dark, but I could see that the car was a shiny, new
expensive one.
I leaned out my still open window, hurriedly stowing the gun inside the waist
to my jeans. "Everything okay?" I called.
The door to the car opened, and Noah stepped out. "Azazel?" he said.
"Where's Jude?"
Jesus! How had he gotten that car?
I threw the van into reverse and backed up at full speed, putting as much
distance as I could between their car and the van. When I saw that Noah was
getting back in the car and they were starting to pursue me, I immediately put
the car in drive and turned around in the middle of the road, my tires
squealing.
I took off at top speed, frantically checking my rear view mirror. They were in
hot pursuit. And their car could go much faster than the ratty old van.
Damn. Damn. Damn.
Where had that car come from? I'd thought they were stranded back at that
abandoned house. They'd gotten a really, really nice car lightning fast. How
had that happened? How?
I had to slow down for the turns in the road, because I wasn't used to driving
it. With every passing second, Noah was gaining on me. I tried to go faster,
but I was losing control of the van as I rounded the curves. I pushed myself to
take them faster and faster, not to worry about being able to navigate the
road.
But then it happened. I hit a turn way too fast and when I turned the steering
wheel and braked a bit, I skidded. Panicking, I pressed harder on the brake,
realizing belatedly that was exactly the wrong thing to do. The skid deepened
and the van wobbled. It tumbled off the road, falling on its side.
I wasn't wearing my seatbelt, so I was thrown to the other side of the van—hard. I thudded against the passenger
side door. The crank for the window jabbed my thigh. My head cracked against
the window. Pain shot through my body, bright like carnival lights. I bounced,
collided again, and was still.
I groaned.
I knew that I needed to get up and run, but everything hurt so, so bad.
"Azazel?" Noah's voice.
"Zaza, are you okay?" Gordon's voice, getting closer.
I felt in my pants for the gun. It was still there.
Oh God. That had really, really hurt. I'd never wrecked a car before. I knew it
was supposed to be a normal teenage experience. Trust me to make sure I had it
in the most abnormal way possible, running from my crazy Satanist brothers who
were trying to get me to murder my boyfriend. Could this possibly get any
worse?
Oh yeah. They'd found me. I'd escaped, and now I was getting recaptured.
The driver's side door to the van opened. It was funny, watching it open above
me like that. Open onto the night sky.
Noah and Gordon peered in at me.
"Are you hurt?" Gordon asked.
"I'm fine," I managed.
"We've got to get you out of there," said Noah.
"So you can tie me up again? No, thanks," I said. This really, really
sucked.
"Zaza, you must realize we're just trying to help you," said Gordon.
"You're not helping me," I said. "You're ruining my life."
"How can you say that?" asked Noah. "We're saving the
world."
"By sacrificing your baby sister?" I demanded. "You two stood by
while Toby almost raped me. Brothers who cared would have stopped that."
"Well, it wasn't exactly rape, now was it?" said Noah.
"Honestly, Azazel, you're overreacting."
"Really, Zaza," said Gordon. "Do you have any idea how much time
I've had to take off of work to be here?"
That was the last straw. His work?! Really?
I ripped the gun out of the waist of my pants. I didn't think. I didn't speak.
I didn't threaten. It was quick. It was easy. It was very, very simple. And it
felt natural too. Like the most obvious, most normal thing in the world to do.
I shot them both very neatly in the forehead. Their bodies toppled over into
the van. They hadn't even had time to cry out.
For a few very strange seconds, I felt calm and relieved. I felt proud of
myself. I'd just fixed everything.
Then I looked into their faces, dangling over mine, blood dripping over their
eyebrows and down their noses.
And I convulsed.
What had I just done?
Chapter Thirteen
To: Renegade Son
From: Edgar Weem
Subject: (none)
Fine, Hallam. We'll play it your way.
011-44-020-5555-7032
Lilith was in the back of the car, tied up and gagged.
I opened the door and looked at her. "You okay?" I asked.
She made a muffled noise. I reached in and pulled the gag out of her mouth.
"Fine," she gasped. "Are you?"
"I'm great," I said. "Come over here so that I can untie
you."
"Zaza, what—?"
"If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand fucking times. Don't.
Call.
She shrank from me. "Sorry," she mumbled.
"Now, come over here," I said, exasperated. She scooted over, and I
untied her hands and feet.
"Azazel, you're head is—"
"It's fine," I said. "You wanna sit up front?"
"Uh . . ."
"Stay in the back, then," I said. I closed the door, and got in the
driver's seat. I sat down. Buckled my seat belt. Felt the ignition.
And burst into laughter. I turned back to Lilith. "Keys!" I said to
her. "I forgot the keys."
Still laughing, I got out of the car and ambled over to the bodies of Noah and
Gordon. Noah had been driving, so he probably had them. I felt in his pockets.
Sure enough. Keys.
Before I could think much about the fact that I'd just shot and killed both of
my brothers, I went back to the car.
I jammed the keys in the ignition and started the car. I pulled the car back on
the road and headed towards
"Now," I said to Lilith, "before I was interrupted, I was
thinking about where the fuck I was going to go. Now that I've just committed
murder, I'm even more confused." I looked back at her. "Where do
people go after they kill people?"
"Watch the road," she said, her voice shaky.
I turned back to the road. "Sorry," I said breezily. "I think
sometimes people go hide out. They need . . ." I paused, feeling exactly
like a cartoon light bulb had lit up above my head. "Sanctuary," I
breathed.
I grinned at Lilith, but in the rearview mirror, not by turning around.
"We're going to see Father Gerald."
"Father who?" asked Lilith.
"Gerald," I said. "At Christ is King Catholic Church. Hallam
stayed with him for months before we found him in November. I know he'll know
how to contact Hallam. They're friends. And if I can get in touch with Hallam, I
can get in touch with Jason."
"Okay," said Lilith. "Great. I guess."
"Hey," I said. "How about a little gratitude? I just rescued
you."
"You shot them," she whispered.
Right. Well, there was that. But I wasn't thinking about that right now. I
couldn't think about that right now.
* * *
Christ is King Catholic Church was boarded up. There
was a big sign on the front of the church which said, "Reopening in
April." Hmm. I guessed that the big shoot-out between us and the Sons
really had destroyed the sanctuary. I felt kind of guilty for a minute. I hoped
that Father Gerald didn't blame us for the destruction of his church.
The lights were on in the rectory, where he lived, so I supposed I would find
out in a few minutes anyway. I dragged Lilith with me, and together we knocked
on his door.
There was no answer at first, so I knocked again.
After the second knock, the door opened. Father Gerald peered out at us.
"Hi Father Gerald," I said meekly.
"Azazel Jones?" he said in recognition. "What happened to you?"
"Happened to me?"
"Your head is bleeding."
"Is it?" I gingerly touched my head and looked at my fingers. Yep.
Red. I shrugged. "I was in a car wreck. I was wondering if we could use
your phone?"
"Come in," said Father Gerald. "Come in, come in."
Lilith and I stepped inside the rectory. It was sparse and functional. White
walls. No decoration except for a crucifix on one wall.
"Your friend?" he asked.
"This is Lilith," I said.
He raised an eyebrow. "Lilith and Azazel?" He shook his head and crossed
himself, mumbling something about never thinking he'd see the day he was
opening his door to those two. He started out of the room we were in, which was
the kitchen, heading back the hall. "I'll get something for your
head," he said.
"It's okay, really," I said. "I just need to call Hallam. You
have a number for him, don't you?"
Father Gerald stopped. "Well, yes. I was just about to call him myself,
actually. Some strange events have recently unfolded. I thought he'd want to
know."
"Strange events?" I said.
"With the Sons of the Rising Sun," he explained. "It's a little
convoluted."
I waved it away. "The Sons aren't actually a problem for me this time. Can
I just call Hallam, please?"
"Certainly," he said, pointing at the phone. He gave me the number.
As I dialed, he said, "I'm going to go get some bandages. If my guest
wanders out here, don't be alarmed."
Guest? Priests had guests?
Whatever. The phone was ringing on Hallam's end. Lilith stood behind me,
looking frightened. If I still liked her, I would have grabbed her hand or done
something reassuring. But I didn't like her. Not at all. She felt scared? Good.
For a few terrible seconds, I was convinced that Hallam's phone was going to go
to voicemail, but at the last second, he picked up.
"Father Gerald, what is going on?" he said. "Did you release the
email without telling me? Why does Edgar Weem think that I'm playing games with
him?"
"Edgar Weem?" I said. "You're in communication with Edgar
Weem?"
"Who is this?"
"It's Azazel. And why the hell are you talking to Weem?"
"Azazel, Jesus, where are you?"
"I'm in
"Oh, Christ, Azazel, it's complicated. Look, I'm actually on my way to
"Hallam, are you still working for the Sons?" I was floored. Shocked.
Appalled. After all this time, after I'd trusted Hallam as much as I did, was
he betraying us?
"No, of course not. Please, just stay with Father Gerald. When I get
there, I'll explain everything."
Behind me, Lilith screamed.
I whirled.
A man had just walked into the kitchen. He was bruised and beaten, his face
swelling in odd places. Bandages decorated every part of his exposed skin.
"Azazel," he said, his damaged mouth curving into a sly smile.
I dropped the phone. "Sutherland," I breathed.
He took a step toward me.
I grabbed Lilith's hand. "Let's get out of here," I said to her.
We tore out of the kitchen, out of the rectory, back into the car. As I drove
away, I glanced in the rearview mirror to see that Sutherland had followed us
outside. He was standing outside the church, in front of the re-opening sign,
grinning like a jackal.
* * *
"How did he get there?" Lilith was asking.
She was sitting next to me in the passenger seat. We were driving aimlessly in
the dark. Through the streets of
"I don't know," I said. "I thought he was dead."
Sutherland was alive. Jason hadn't killed him. Hallam had been wrong when he'd
asked Jason where Sutherland's body was. It looked like Jason had beat him up
very, very badly, but he hadn't killed him. As frightening as it had been to
see Sutherland, the news made a part of me sing. Jason hadn't done that. He
wasn't the killer that Noah and Gordon had claimed he was.
Of course, I'd killed . . . I shuddered again.
"He's not dead," Lilith said.
"Maybe . . ." I said, turning it over in my head, " . . . maybe
he was following us. Following me. Maybe he followed us into the rectory."
"No," said Lilith. "I saw him come into the room. He didn't come
through the front door. He came from the hallway."
"He was waiting for us? He knew we'd go there?"
"He sounded surprised to see you. Pleasantly surprised, but
surprised."
She was right. He did.
I didn't like this one bit. First there was this car we were driving. This car
that had come out of nowhere. Then there was Sutherland appearing also out of
nowhere. So many unanswered questions. "There are too many things I just
don't understand," I said. "How did Noah and Gordon get this car?"
"Gordon called your grandmother," said Lilith.
"Grandma Hoyt?" I said. "Why?" I couldn't even finish the
thought, it was too preposterous. But I guessed it made sense. Grandma Hoyt had
money. She could get them a car fast. "Why was she helping them?"
"I don't know," said Lilith.
More unanswered questions. More things that didn't add up. My mind was reeling.
Chance had said that Gordon and Noah had gone to see Grandma Hoyt, and then
she'd consented to pack Chance off to
But none of this was important right now, because . . . Because . . .
"We have to find Jason," I said.
We were driving through the streets of
Jude was driving Jason and me home. We were talking about the kidnapping of the
Lindbergh baby. And Jason had said . . .
"I always thought," said
Jason, "that would be a good way to pull off a kidnapping."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"I mean, kidnap someone in their
own house," said Jason. "Tie them up and knock them out, and keep
them in their own attic."
I yanked the wheel to the right and turned into Michaela Weem's driveway.
Of course, of course, of course. This was the place close enough to cut off
Michaela's finger and leave it downstairs, still warm and wet with her blood.
This was the place that Jason could leave notes. It was a safe place. Not a
hotel. Not an abandoned house. And it was the last place anyone would think to
look for him, because it was too obvious. Jesus.
"What are you doing?" asked Lilith.
"I know where Jason is," I said.
"You do?"
Quickly, I explained to her what I thought, as I parked the car and turned off
the ignition.
"He's been keeping her here in her own house?" Lilith was
incredulous.
"Brilliant, isn't it?" I said.
She shook her head. "Yeah," she admitted.
Lilith sighed. Then—she
moved. She pulled me close against her body, her forearm going around my neck,
making it tough for me to breathe.
"Lilith!" I protested.
Then I felt it. The cold, sharp point of a small knife at my neck.
"Lilith?" I said.
"You really are way too trusting, Zaza," said Lilith, her voice
ugly.
Chapter Fourteen
Text message to Hallam Wakefield, 11:12 P.M.:
We've got a trace on the car, thanks to Hoyt. We should know where they are in
a matter of minutes. Coordinates to follow.
"But-but—"
I sputtered. "They tied you up. And you kept trying to make Jason suspect
Jude."
"Well, I did want to bang Jason. I'm not gonna lie about that. I figured
any path in a storm, right?"
"You're mixing your metaphors," I said.
"AP English rears its ugly head," she mocked me. "As for the
tying up part, I was supposed to keep an eye on you that way. Monitor what you
were feeling. They thought you'd trust me."
"I didn't trust you," I said.
"Which is why you untied me."
"Fuck you," I growled.
"Tisk, tisk. It's not a good idea to be rude to the girl who has a knife
to your throat."
Ugh. She was right. I was stupid.
I was way too trusting.
"Noah and Gordon had no vision," Lilith said. "They thought they
could convince you to kill Jason. I know better. You're never going to think
it's the right thing to do."
"It's not the right thing to do," I said.
"Like I said, you're never going to think that," said Lilith.
"When Jason is dead, Michaela is going to see just how special I am. I'll
make her eat those words. Someone will love me."
"I don't get it," I said. "You want Jason dead too? You just
said you wanted to bang him."
Lilith chuckled. "Boys aren't good for much other than sex, Zaza. They're
all expendable, really."
"But you think Jason is evil incarnate, like they do?"
Lilith didn't answer for a few seconds. "Stop talking," she said.
"I'm calling the shots here. I've got a knife at your throat. I could kill
you at any second. You shut up, okay?"
I didn't say anything, but I could tell I'd gotten to her.
"Look," she said, "I figure it doesn't really matter how it goes
down, as long as you kill Jason. So, we'll go inside. We'll find Jason. He'll
do whatever I say as long as I've got a knife to your throat, right? Even take
a gun, put it in your hand, hold it to his own head, and make you pull the
damned trigger. He'll do that. Won't he?"
She was right. He would. He'd die for me. I didn't like Lilith's plan at all.
For someone who didn't do very smart things very often, she'd put together a
pretty good plan. I had to keep pushing. She could threaten to shut me up all
she wanted, but if she killed me now, then I couldn't kill Jason. And if things
were really about to go down the way she'd just explained, I far preferred to
die for Jason than for him to die for me. Not when there was some way I could
stop it.
"You sure you want Jason dead?" I asked. "I was listening when
you flashed Jason, you know. It got quiet for a long time." This was
killing me, but it was more important that Jason lived than anything. Than
anything. "And when I walked into the room, I could swear he looked
guilty. How do you know that he doesn't want to be with you anyway? Maybe
that's how you could show Michaela she was wrong."
Lilith pushed the point of the knife a little deeper into my neck. "You
think you're so smart, don't you?" she hissed at me. "You think you
can play mind games with me, but I'm not as dumb as you think I am."
"I'm not saying your dumb," I said. "I'm just not sure what
you're motivation here is. Why are you still working for the Satanists? I mean,
what have they ever done for you?"
The knife stabbed at my neck. It broke the skin. I let out at little yelp.
"I said shut up, Zaza," said Lilith, "and I meant it."
Suddenly, this little exercise in trying to manipulate Lilith seemed really,
really difficult. I wanted to see Jason. I wanted this nightmare over.
But I didn't want to hurt Lilith. I'd done enough damage for one evening. I
knew that. I also knew that there were things I'd done in the past hour that
would haunt me for the rest of my life. I didn't want to add to that. I
remembered the way Jason had sobbed in my arms after killing the members of the
Sons. I knew the way Jason's eyes always looked. There were depths in them.
Depths of pain and guilt and confusion. I didn't want to go there myself. But I
was frustrated, and I couldn't help but want to do things the easy way.
As I hesitated in those few moments, I saw it all so very clearly. This way was
seductive. It was simple. It was quick. It made the immediate problems go away.
There were obstacles in the way of my goal. I needed to eliminate them. I saw
that. I saw that I was starting down a path of simplicity. A path of casual
violence. And I also knew that if I took that path, it would be harder to
resist it in the future. I saw all of that.
And I made my choice. Because, in the end, no matter what anyone said about
fate or Shiva or the power of Azazel, it was all about my choices. In the end,
I wouldn't be able to blame ancient religions for my life. I'd have to take
responsibility for it.
I moved as quick as Lilith had, and it meant that her knife took a pretty
nice-sized chunk out of my neck. The pain was sharp, and I felt blood begin to
trickle from the wound. But in one movement, I got the gun out of my pants with
one hand, slapped the barrel against Lilith's temple, wrenched the knife away
from her with my other hand, and twisted so that I could see her face.
I smiled at her. "Lilith, if you're so smart, why didn't you take my
gun?"
"I-I—" Lilith was
startled.
I didn't let her finish. I just pulled the trigger.
Her blood got on my face.
I looked at her for a while after it was done. The bullet didn't cause too much
destruction going in. Sure there was a big bloody hole. But it was the exit
wound that was so bad. Blood spattered all over the interior of the car, an
exploded firework of red fluid and brain matter. The other side of Lilith's
head caved in. It didn't really look like a skull anymore. Instead it was a
broken Easter egg. A shattered Christmas ornament.
I don't know why I looked as long as I did. I think I just needed to see what
I'd done. To understand that I'd killed her. I needed to look at it, look at
the utter horror of it, the gore of it, the incomprehensible, repulsive reality
of it, and make sure that I understood that I was responsible for it. Because
I'd decided that my life and that Jason's life were more important than hers,
I'd taken her life. I needed to recognize that, force myself to face it and
acknowledge it.
I wasn't telling myself that it was the right thing to do. I wasn't trying to
excuse it. I was just facing it. Taking responsibility for it.
As I got out of the car, my heart clanged against my rib cage. My legs
trembled. I stood outside the car and closed the door behind me, shutting away
the dreadfulness of the remains of Lilith.
Gripping the gun tightly, I started forward. Halting steps carried me over the
threshold of Michaela Weem's house and inside.
* * *
Inside the house it was dusty and dark. I stumbled
over shadowed shapes of furniture, looking for the staircase. I remembered that
it was in the foyer, just as you entered the house. I wanted to go upstairs
because I figured Jason was in the attic.
I felt blindly ahead of me and connected with the railing to the stairwell. As
my eyes gradually adjusted to the darkness, I eased up the steps. I wanted to
go faster, but I felt sluggish. Gingerly, I reached up to touch my head. How
much blood had I lost? Could I have a concussion? If I had a concussion, I
wasn't supposed to go to sleep, right?
I labored up the steps, gazing around me in the scant light. The steps opened
onto narrow hallway. Moonlight came in a window at end, illuminating an antique
wooden table overflowing with burnt candles and several framed photos on the
wall. My feet creaked as I moved forward. Could Jason hear me? If he could,
would he come down to investigate?
I had a horrible thought. Maybe Jason wasn't here at all. Maybe the comment
he'd made in Jude's car had been nothing more than an offhand remark, and he
wasn't even in the house. I didn't move, biting my fingernails nervously. If
that were true, then the only thing I'd be able to do would be to get back in
the car . . . But I couldn't sit next to Lilith's body. No. No.
I looked up. How did I get to the attic? Was there a pull-down set of stairs in
the ceiling somewhere? Or was there an actual built-in staircase?
Then I heard a woman moan.
Above me.
They were here.
She moaned again. She sounded so close. Where were they? How did I get to them?
"There's someone here," said the woman's voice.
"Shh," hushed a voice. Jason?
"I won't be quiet," said the woman. "Help m—" she yelled, but her voice was
muffled before she could finish.
"Shut up," said Jason's voice. It was his, unmistakably, even though
it had a threatening tinge to it that I'd never heard before. "If you make
one more noise, I'll kill you. I can cut parts off your dead body just as easy
as your live one."
I shuddered. Jason sounded ugly. Hard. Cruel. And I couldn't believe he was
talking about cutting off body parts.
Michaela Weem was his mother, no matter how awful she was. Jason shouldn't—
But did I have any right to judge him? After my evening?
Noah's and Gordon's empty eyes danced in front of my face, dangling inside the
van's open door, staring at me.
"Go on, kill me," said the woman. "Do it. It's what I've always
known you'd do. Evil spawn. Abomination."
"Shut up!" Jason insisted. "I'm not going to warn you
again."
"Kill me!" shouted
Michaela Weem.
"Jason!" I yelled. "Jason, it's me!"
Michaela Weem shrieked.
"No!" I yelled. "I'm here. Stop!"
From above me, the shrieking died off. There was a gurgling noise, like there
was blood in her throat.
"Jason!" I called, my voice hoarse.
Behind me, a square of light appeared in the ceiling. A set of steps folded
down and settled against the floor.
"Azazel?" said a voice. Jason's voice.
I flew to the stairs, scrambling up them as fast as I could. "Jason?"
I said. "Jason?"
He caught me in his arms at the top of the steps. I dropped the gun I was
holding to wrap myself around him. He smelled like sweat and blood, but I
didn't care. He smelled like Jason. My Jason. I kissed his lips. His cheeks.
His forehead. His chin. His neck. I couldn't stop kissing him.
"Jason, Jason, Jason," I murmured between kisses, feeling his arms
tight around my waist.
But Jason was pulling away from me.
He held my face in his palms and forced my face away from his. "You're
hurt," he said. "You're bleeding."
"I'm fine," I said, tears starting to stream down my face. He was
here. I'd found him. Nothing else mattered right then. I'd found Jason. We were
together. Everything else was just periphery. I didn't care about anything
except the fact I'd found him.
"What happened to you?" he said.
There was so much. "I got away," I said. "I had to shoot people.
They're dead."
"Jesus," he breathed. "But your head . . ."
"I was in a car accident."
"We've got to get you to a hospital."
I shook my head. "No. I'm a murderer. I can't go—" I broke off. Speaking of being
a murderer. "Where's Michaela?"
"Who cares about her?" said Jason. "Let's just go. Both of us.
Let's just go. Now."
I peered around Jason, actually looking at our surroundings for the first time.
The attic was low-ceilinged. It had exposed rafters. It was lit entirely by
candlelight. At least twenty candles squatted on the floor, between boxes and
broken pieces of furniture. There was an old sewing machine, the kind with a
pedal. In the corner, lying on several bloodstained rags was Michaela Weem.
She lay on her back. Her hand was bandaged, but the bandage was crusted with
dry blood. Her head twisted towards me at an unnatural angle. Her eyes were
wide and staring.
"Oh, Jason," I whispered. "What did you do?"
He touched my face again, turned my chin to face him. "I didn't know where
you were," he said softly.
Slowly, I disentangled myself from Jason. I went to Michaela. Kneeled next to
her. She looked so old, lying there. Old and broken.
I looked at Jason. "She's your mother," I said.
Jason shook his head. "I don't have a mother," he said.
Suddenly, Michaela moved.
I leaped back, but not in time. She reached over, with her good hand and
grasped my wrist. She sat up, gasping for breath.
I struggled against her grip, but she held me fast.
Jason rushed towards us.
Michaela pulled me top of her. I was lying with my back on top of her body. She
snaked her arm around my neck. She tightened it.
"Stop, Fiend," she said to Jason.
Jason stopped, his eyes murderous.
I could breathe, but it wasn't comfortable. And to think I'd been feeling sorry
for this woman. I really was an
idiot.
"That's your Vessel you're strangling," he rasped.
Michaela's mouth was close. I could feel her breath on my neck. I heard her
voice in my ear. "Azazel," she said. "Oh Azazel. It's all gone
wrong. My visions . . . they're swimming in confusion. Muddied. Swirled up.
What have you done?"
I swallowed.
"I remember," Michaela continued, "what I saw when I first put
my hands on your mother's belly and knew you were growing inside her. How
delighted I was. You stood, strong and proud, clutching a spear of fire. You
would vanquish the abomination. And your mother a Hoyt. It was too
perfect."
"Hoyt?" I managed. "What's my mother's family got to do with
this?"
Michaela Weem laughed, a high-pitched maniacal sound. "You don't know, do
you?"
Jason shook his head. "Not those Hoyts," he said.
"Yes," said Michaela Weem. "Yes."
"You're twisted," said Jason. "You and my father both. You claim
it's got something to do with ancient power or fate or destiny or anything like
that, but it's all about you—your
revenge—your ability to do
what you want."
"I don't understand," I said.
"Your great uncle is Weem's successor," said Michaela. "Where
did you think all that Hoyt money came from? It comes from the Sons of the
Rising Sun. To use their own blood against them. To use you . . ." She
laughed again. "It was too perfect."
Wait. My mother's side of the family had ties to Sons? That would make sense,
considering my grandmother hadn't wanted anything to do with the Satanists. But
. . . "But the Sons killed my Aunt Stephanie," I protested.
"The Sons are very rarely concerned with women's lives," said
Michaela. "Very rarely concerned. And you, my dear sweet Azazel, you were
going to be a thorn in their side. You were going to strike a blow to their
foundations. Such a blow . . . But now . . . now I can't see. It's all a
haze." Michaela's grip on my throat loosened a little bit. "It was so
clear before. Two figures. One an agent of Chaos. One an agent of Order. One
light. One dark. But now I can't see which is which."
What was she talking about? And she had to be wrong anyway. The Hoyts had
nothing to do with the Sons. They couldn't. "Why was my grandmother
helping Noah and Gordon, then?" I asked. "Why did she send them that
car?"
Michaela cackled. "Oh, there are many, many things you don't know about
Arabella Hoyt, Azazel. Many things." She smiled, humming to herself for a
second. Then she stopped. "The Sons never would have noticed you, you
know," she continued. "If you'd just struck. Smote him down. But now
they know who you are. And they must control their precious Rising Sun. Oh,
they must, mustn't they? But I can't see anymore, Azazel. I can't tell who you
serve. Or who he serves. Do you use the power of Rabbit for evil, girl? Which
of you, which of you, which of you should die? Which one?"
If my grandmother had ties to the Sons, then that would mean that the car that
I drove to the house was a car that belonged to the Sons.
I looked up at Jason. "Jason," I said. "The Sons, they—"
And I was cut off by the sounds of several cars outside the house, all pulling
to a stop.
"They know where we are," I finished.
"Oh, I know, I know that only you can kill the abomination. But if you
won't kill him, and both of you live, what worse things could happen? One of
you must die!" And she pulled her arm tight around my neck.
I gagged, my eyes going wide. Frantic, I scrabbled at her arm with my nails,
raking her skin, drawing blood.
Jason raced to us, fishing out a gun. He put the barrel against Michaela Weem's
head. "Let her go," he said.
Michaela only laughed. "Must die, must die, must die!" she squealed.
Jason shot her.
Immediately, her arm fell away from me lifelessly. Her body thudded back
against the floor behind me.
I crawled away from her, into Jason's waiting arms.
I didn't look back, but Jason was staring at her. He didn't look away.
And the Sons were entering the house. We could hear their footsteps as they
mounted the stairs, their voices as they opened doors.
"Jason?" I said.
He didn't look away from Michaela.
I only looked for a second. I only peeled my eyes away from the entrance for
one moment, to look at what he was looking at. Michaela's body, frail and
twisted, a sick smiled still on her lips.
A second was all it took.
I heard the gun shot, and I turned, but it was too late.
Jason didn't even make a noise. He just collapsed against me, blood seeping out
of his forehead.
"Jude?" I said.
He was standing at the opening to the attic, holding the gun I'd dropped.
He smiled at me. "Hi Azazel," he said.
"Jude," I repeated. I'd left him alive. Of all of them, I'd left him alive. And it was funny. He'd seemed
like such a bad shot at the target range. But he hadn't had any trouble this
time. Right on the mark.
I looked back at Jason, his head slumped against my chest. His blood was
flowing onto my shirt. He was— But no. No, that—
"Mother's gone," said Jude. "But so is he now. And now, Azazel,
there's no reason we can't be together."
I started to tremble, then to shake. Spastic jerks. No. No. NO.
Chapter Fifteen
From: Arabella Hoyt
To: Michaela Weem
Subject: Is it done?
Michaela, you've been out of touch with me for days now. I just received
communication from my grandsons. You promised me that this would be quick. I need
word and soon. I'll only keep my end of the bargain if you keep yours.
Arabella
I could still hear the Sons scrambling through the
house. Someone was coming up the steps behind Jude.
It was Hallam. He tackled Jude, knocking Jude flat on his face on the floor of
the attic.
Behind him came a swarm of men dressed in black. Men toting guns.
But it was like it was all moving in slow motion. Like reality had just snapped
whatever hold it had on me. I couldn't grasp the thread of events that had
transpired. I couldn't make my brain put them together.
"Jesus, Azazel," said Hallam, "why couldn't you have waited for
me?"
I looked at him. I looked through him. What was going on? I shook Jason.
"Jason," I said. "Wake up."
Jason's body jerked lifelessly with the force of my shaking. His head lopped
forward. His chin bounced against his chest. I shook harder. "Jason!"
I said insistently.
Hallam came to me. Behind him, the Sons were restraining Jude. Tying his hands
behind his back. Hallam knelt. "Azazel," he said. "Stand
up."
I glared at him. "No," I said.
I turned back to Jason. I guided his head back. I placed it in my lap. I
cradled him, and I rocked. "This didn't happen, did it?" I asked
Hallam. "He isn't . . ." I couldn't make myself say it.
Hallam reached across me, taking Jason's wrist. He was feeling for a pulse.
"Azazel," he whispered. "He's gone. Come away from the
body."
"NO!" I shouted. I clutched Jason to me tighter. "No."
I gazed down at Jason's face. Unlike Lilith's, it still looked so perfect.
There was only one small hole marring the beauty of his face, high on his
forehead, just below his hairline. It wasn't even bleeding that much. There was
no exit wound. I traced his nose and chin with my forefinger.
He couldn't be dead. I'd just found him. It had been so hard to find him, and
I'd had to go through so much. I'd shot three people in the head to find him.
I'd faced the darkest part of myself. Resigned myself to future nightmares.
Done things I'd never believed myself capable of. So, he couldn't be dead.
After all of that, it just wouldn't be fair. It wouldn't be right.
"No," I whispered, caressing his cheek with the back of my fingers.
Hallam stood up and crossed the attic to the other members of the Sons. I heard
him giving them orders, telling them what to do with Jude. Telling them to
leave us alone for awhile. But I couldn’t really focus on the words. Everything
still seemed fuzzy. There was a gauzy curtain between the world and me. I
couldn't see straight. This couldn't be reality. Because Jason couldn't die.
That wasn't the way things were supposed to go!
I loved Jason. He and I were supposed to ride off into the sunset together. He
and I were supposed to live happily ever after. He wasn't supposed to die! And
how, how, how, how could I possibly face the idea of being alive if he wasn't?
It just wasn't true. It couldn’t be true. It couldn't be true!
I looked down at his face. It was true. Jason was dead.
The realization settled over me with icy certainty. Its truth seemed to crystallize
the air in front of me. Things began to move at the proper speed. Things began
to look clear again. That almost made it worse. Because everything was still
going on, moving on, and Jason was dead. I felt like the world should stop.
Like everything should stop functioning the way it usually did. How could
everyone just keep going when Jason was dead?
Hallam sat down next to me again. We watched as the Sons left the attic. Then
it was just me and Hallam. And the bodies.
"I'm sorry, Azazel," said Hallam.
"Yes," I said.
"But I'm glad I didn't have to do it," he said.
The statement should have made me angry. It didn't. I didn't really think I had
the capacity for emotions right now. "You thought you'd have to kill
Jason?"
"I hoped I wouldn't," said Hallam.
I held Jason close to me, still rocking his quiet body. My brain was still
putting pieces together, even in the face of this. Would nothing stop me?
Wasn't the death of Jason enough to stop me, even if it was enough to stop
Jason?
"You've been working for the Sons this whole time, haven't you?" I
said.
"No," said Hallam. "I don't work for the Sons."
"You brought them here," I said.
"It's complicated," he said.
"Were they coming to capture Jason?" I asked.
"I don't know why they were coming," said Hallam. "I just know
that Weem put me in touch with them."
Right. He'd been talking to Weem. "Why were you in touch with Edgar
Weem?"
Hallam didn't speak for a moment. His eyes darted from Jason's head in my lap
to my eyes. "Are you sure you want to talk about this now?" he asked.
"No," I said. "Not sure about much of anything right now. But
you might as well tell me."
"It's a long story," said Hallam.
"Guess I'm not going anywhere," I said. All my captors were dead or
captured. The threat to me had been neutralized. Overall, I guessed I was safe.
But the price . . . the price had been Jason's life, and the victory felt
empty.
Shouldn't I be crying now? Shouldn't I be a mess? Why was I so calm? Dry-eyed?
Was this the price I'd paid for killing my brothers and Lilith? Had I lost my
ability to grieve? I remembered just minutes ago, when I'd been crying in joy
at the sight of him. Now, when I'd never get to do that again, I was a stone. I
didn't understand.
"Tell me," I said to Hallam, not looking away from Jason's face.
"Okay," said Hallam. "In November, you remember, I went to talk
to Edgar Weem, to work the deal for you and Jason."
"Yes," I said.
"I arrived in Weem's office that evening after flying to
"He seemed very contrite and very sad. He seemed very old. He told me that
the whole business with Jason had happened when he was a younger man. He said
that he'd been stupid then, thinking he could create the Rising Sun. He should
have known that he couldn't mess with forces like the ones he'd been intending
to mess with.
"I didn't understand what he meant. I told him frankly that I didn't believe
in any forces anymore. I had evidence that the entire Rising Sun debacle had
been engineered by him, and I wasn't inclined to listen to anymore mumbo-jumbo
about ancient powers and magics and whatever other ridiculous nonsense he
wanted to spew at me. I told him that I'd had enough of that while I was
working for the Sons thank you very much, and I didn't want anymore of it now.
I was here to work a deal, plain and simple.
"He said that I was mistaken. He said that yes, it was true that he had
manufactured Jason, that he had fathered him. But, he said, I mustn't think
that because he'd engineered the entire thing that there weren't very powerful
things that had transpired in Jason's creation. He told me that I didn't know
what depths he'd plummeted to in the search for that kind of knowledge. Then he
went on some kind of extended comparison between him and Faust, about making
deals with the devil for knowledge.
"I was starting to tune him out. Look, I said to him, it didn't matter
whether or not he thought Jason was actually the Rising Sun or not. The fact
was that once everyone else in the Sons found out what he'd done, they wouldn't
think that Jason was the Rising Sun. I had the power to destroy the
organization and to destroy him if he didn't cooperate with me.
"He laughed then. He said that I shouldn't assume that he was trying to
tell me that Jason was the Rising Sun. Quite the opposite, he said. He'd done
awful, terrible things when creating Jason. He and Michaela had participated in
rituals that were illegal and immoral and repulsive. He told me about some of
them. I don't want to repeat much. He invoked powers dark and mysterious,
powers that slumber in ancient texts, too horrible to be named, let alone be
awakened. He said that he didn't think Jason was the Rising Sun at all.
"He said, 'No, Hallam, I think I've created a monstrosity.'
"I told him he was insane. I'd spent years with Jason. He wasn't monstrous
in any way.
"Weem began to give me examples of things. He pointed out the work Jason
and I had done for the Sons. Violent work. He said that Jason had taken
pleasure in it. I denied that. Jason hadn't. I said that I'd never even
witnessed Jason taking another human life.
"Weem said that Jason had killed members of the Sons in
"I still didn't believe him, and I said so.
"He said that finally, there was the fact that Jason had killed his
mentor, Anton.
"I was appalled. 'You people killed Anton,' I said. After all, it was that
action which had been the impetus for my leaving the Sons. I couldn't believe
he would pin the event on Jason. It was low, I thought. Low and ridiculous. And
I couldn’t figure what it was Weem wanted to accomplish by lying to me in this
way.
"Weem shook his head. He insisted that Jason had actually killed Anton.
And he could prove it."
I interrupted Hallam. "He could prove it?" I said. "But Jason
didn't do that. There's no way. He loved Anton."
Hallam sighed. "This isn't a good time for me to be explaining this to
you," he said. "We should wait. Later, when you're calmer—"
I silenced him with a look. "I'll never be calmer than I am now."
He nodded once. "He had a video, Azazel."
"He faked it!" I said.
Hallam shook his head. "I don't think so. Faking a video is a pretty
tricky business. No, I'm sure it was Jason in the video. It was a security
video. Grainy and black and white, but very convincing. If you could have seen
it . . . Jason and Anton were clearly arguing. They were shouting at each
other. There wasn't any sound, but I could tell they were both upset. Then
Jason pulled out a gun and shot Anton. Over and over. And the expression on his
face . . . Azazel, I've seen that expression. The first time I saw it was at
that sorority house. He was just unloading his gun into Anton and he was . . .
Azazel, he was smiling. Smiling.
"After, Jason stood over Anton for a long time. He crouched over the body.
He started crying. But, there's no doubt in my mind that he killed Anton.
"After I saw the video, I was completely stunned. Weem told me that he was
frightened about what he'd unleashed on the world. He said he was more than
happy to sever the ties the Sons had with Jason. He wanted to wash his hands of
the entire business. But he asked me to watch Jason. To see if this kind of
behavior continued. To see if Jason was dangerous. And that's what I've been
doing.
"I know you're hurting right now, but I think this was for the best,"
Hallam said to me. "I think that there was a side to Jason that maybe
neither of us knew about. There was a part of him—a violent, dark part. It was starting to surface within
him. All the fighting he was doing in
"Sutherland's alive," I said to Hallam.
"What?" Hallam said, looking genuinely confused.
"I saw him," I said. "At Father Gerald's rectory."
Hallam's look of confusion switched to a look of alarm. "Sutherland was
with Father Gerald?"
"Yes," I said.
Hallam furrowed his brow. "It doesn't make sense. Why would Jason leave
Sutherland alive?"
"He wasn't what you said he was," I said. "That's why. He wasn't
violent or evil or dark. Sutherland knew that. He showed me emails he
intercepted from the Sons. I'm Kali. Jason was Shiva. He was the good one. I
was the dark one." I stroked Jason's face. "You were all wrong. All
of you."
I leaned close to Jason. "I'm sorry," I said to him. "I'm so
sorry. I love you. I love you forever."
Things had to be dealt with. I couldn't sit here forever, cradling Jason's dead
body, listening to Hallam's stories. Instead, I had to get moving. My captors
might be out of the way, but the Sons were here, Weem was still alive, and
Sutherland was still out there. From the look on Hallam's face, that wasn't a
good thing.
Tenderly, I pressed my lips against Jason's, for what I knew would be the last
time. I had to leave him, let him go. If nothing else, I had to make sure that
everyone understood that he wasn't what they thought he was. Not a monster. Not
the man who would enslave the world. Just Jason. My Jason.
I lingered on his lips for too long. I didn't want to let go. This was the
final step in accepting the horror that had just occurred. Once I stopped
kissing him, stopped holding him, his death would be real. I didn't want to
face that.
But I had to. I broke away from Jason. I turned to Hallam. "What do we
need to do?" I asked.
And Jason coughed in my lap.
Coughed.
We both jerked our heads to look at him. His eyes were fluttering. He was
coughing, as if air had just filled his lungs after a long break.
"Jason?" I whispered.
Was I dreaming?
"Hey," he said, looking around.
"No," said Hallam. "He was dead. I felt his pulse."
Jason struggled into a sitting position, putting his hand to the wound on his
forehead. "I'm not dead," he said. He smiled at me lopsidedly.
"Didn't Michaela Weem say that only you could kill 'the abomination?' It's
not the first time she's been right."
"He was dead," Hallam said.
I touched my lips. "I thought you were dead," I said.
"Who could be dead through a kiss like that?" said Jason. He pulled
me close and kissed me again. My heart stopped in my chest.
Hallam scrambled to his feet. "Isis and Osiris," he muttered.
"You are the
Rising Sun. Your consort breathed life into you. It's one of the signs."
Jason stood up too and helped me to my feet. He shrugged at me, taking my hand.
"Well," he said, "gotta say it's good to be a dying god. But I
really think this bullet didn't do much damage. It doesn't even hurt."
"You were dead!" Hallam said. "You didn't have a pulse!"
Jason laughed. "Right, Hallam. It's a miracle." He grinned at me.
"Of course, I guess we did drive a bunch of men mad a few months ago.
Maybe we really are, like, magic or something." He laughed again.
"Come on, Azazel, we've got to get out of here."
"You can't leave," said Hallam.
"Got to," said Jason. "Don't you know that I must be about
screwing up my father's business?" He took his phone out of his pocket and
hit a few numbers. Holding it to his ear, he said, "I've got her. Meet me
out front. When can you get here? . . . Good." Jason hung up his phone. He
turned to Hallam. "You double-crossed me. You've been in touch with Weem
all this time."
"Did you overhear while you were . . . dead?" Hallam said.
"No," said Jason. "No, I've got a source. Listen, Hallam, you
and I have a history. Just let me and Azazel walk out of here, okay? I'm
willing to just let you go. You were my friend."
Hallam looked confused. "Where are you going?"
"I never want to see you again," said Jason. "If I do, I'll have
to kill you."
Jason took my hand and led me through the house. When the Sons saw us, they
dropped their guns. They fell to their knees. They whispered amongst themselves
things like, "He's alive" and "He is the one." On the front porch, two
of the Sons were wrestling with Jude. When Jude saw us, he went nuts.
He yelled after us, "This isn't over, Jason! You killed Mother! I won't
ever forget that, and I'll make sure you don't either!"
But in the tired darkness of the wee hours of the morning, with the moon
sagging in the sky above us, a car pulled up in front of Michaela Weem's house.
Jason led me towards it.
"Jason," I said, "who . . .?"
"You'll see," he said, opening the door for me.
We slid into the back seat together, and Jason slid his arm around me, holding
me tight against him. It felt so good to be close to him.
The driver in the car turned around. "Where to, kids?" he said.
I looked at Jason in alarm.
The driver was Sutherland.
Epilogue
Twenty hours later, Jason and I were standing at the
Trevi Fountain in
I hadn't slept—really slept
anyway—since the night that
I huddled with Lilith in the abandoned house. Instead, Sutherland had taken
both Jason and I to the airport, where we'd caught a flight to
During the long flight to
"No," I said. "I thought it was the Sons. I was wrong. And I was
totally clueless about Jude. I should have listened to you."
"I should have listened to you," Jason said. "I can't
keep running away from this stuff. It follows me everywhere. It's part of who I
am. I won't forget that again. Okay?"
I kissed him. "I'm just glad you're alive."
He grinned. "Well, so am I."
Jason began to explain. After beating Sutherland to an inch of his life, Sutherland
had begged Jason to let him live, promising to tell Jason information that he
knew about the Satanists and Jude. Disgusted, Jason had left him, coming back
to me that night, dazed from his violence. After I'd disappeared, Jason
remembered what I'd said to him about the Satanists. He'd hunted Sutherland
down and beaten the information out of him.
"Sutherland and I made a deal," Jason said. "In return for his
cooperation and any information he knew about me or you, I told him who my
father was."
Sutherland, in return, had told him that Michaela Weem had engineered the
capturing of me. He'd been doing Michaela a favor by watching me. That was why
he'd been in
Armed with this knowledge, Jason had gone to Michaela's house, tied her up, and
left the note for Jude to find. Sutherland had used his knowledge to contact
the biggest enemy of the Sons that existed—the
Catholic Church.
I was surprised. Jason said that he was too. Since Jason knew that Hallam was
working for Weem, he got Sutherland to work a deal with the Church. In exchange
for sheltering us, we'd help them fight against the Sons. That was why we were
in
Because of Sutherland's actions, big changes were going down in the Sons. Weem
had purportedly stepped down and had been succeeded by Ian Hoyt, my great
uncle, who I'd never heard of. There were things I didn't understand about the
connection between the Hoyts and the Sons. Was Grandma Hoyt working with the
Sons? Was she working with the Satanists? Now that we were in
Then I'd spent some time catching Jason up on everything that had happened to
me. I was breezing past some of the things at first, like how Noah and Gordon
had showed me hours of videotape and documents proving that Jason was actually
a cold-blooded killer. Jason stopped me and asked me about it though.
"They showed you what?" he asked.
I explained again, but slower. He wanted to know about the video of the girl
from the sorority house. He made me explain it in excruciating detail. I felt
embarrassed, frightened that Jason would think that just because I was telling
him the story, I also believed it. I didn't. But I was confused. I wasn't sure
what to think.
"She said I was smiling?" Jason repeated.
I toyed with the tray table—the
remains of the snack that the flight attendant had yet to collect from us.
"A lot of people said that about you. That you were smiling."
"Really?" said Jason. He looked disturbed. He settled back into his
chair and looked into the aisle of the plane.
"And Hallam said it too. He said that he saw you kill Anton on a video
tape and that you were smiling when you did it."
"Really," Jason repeated, still not looking at me.
"I don't believe it," I said. "Or . . . even if it is true, it
doesn't matter."
He turned to me then. "You mean that?" he said.
"Of course I mean it," I said.
"No matter what I've done."
"No matter what you've done, I'll always love you," I said. "I
overheard you saying something like that about me to Lilith."
He nodded. "I did. It's true."
"Did you . . . did you kill people before you met me?"
Jason stared down at his fingers. He shook his head. "No," he said.
"No, of course not."
I nodded. Of course, he hadn't. How could I have believed . . .? I hadn't,
though. I hadn't believed. We were quiet for a little bit, then Jason prompted
me to go on.
I finished explaining what had happened to me, everything, including shooting
Noah and Gordon and killing Lilith. Jason squeezed my hand tight when I thought
I might cry. And I didn't.
"It's good that we're talking about all of this," Jason said. "I
don't think we've been communicating enough lately. We've been avoiding things
that are true. We never talked about what happened in
I was glad he said that. I'd been thinking about that too. In the house with
Noah and Gordon. "I know," I said. "We've been running from who
we are. From what we are."
"We tell each other everything from now on," he said.
"Yes," I said. "And it doesn't matter what it is. Because I
trust you, and I want to know you. And I want to know everything you've ever
felt or done been."
"Then we tell each other everything."
"Everything."
* * *
Once in
Next to us, a tour guide was telling her tour that throwing one coin over your
shoulder into the fountain would ensure you returned to
But it wouldn't have mattered anyway. We were going to be in
* * *
Later, as twilight was falling on
I started, moving to look at him.
"One thing," he said. "And I guess I've been lying to myself
about it for a long time too, because I didn't want to face it. But when I'm
with you, I don't feel like I'm who I used to be. And when I'm with you, I feel
like . . ."
"You can tell me anything, Jason. You know that."
"He called me an abomination," said Jason. "The same words
Michaela Weem used. When she said them, I thought of it. That night, he came to
me, and he said that I was a thing of great evil. He was all I ever had. And he
wanted me dead."
I took Jason's hands in mine. "You killed Anton, didn’t you?"
He
nodded.