I stared, unable to look away, into the black eyes of the head where it stopped moving just before the treeline, the rainbows still shattering off the skin like light through a prism.
However, my eyes finally lifted when I caught movement—Edythe's hands flashed again, so fast I couldn't follow them as she tore the body to unrecognizable pieces. Her face was dispassionate, focused, and never once did she look away from her grisly work.
I was frozen where I was, but I studied her every movement carefully, taking it in. And slowly, I was able to reassure myself that she was absolutely fine—she stood straight, perfect, without a hint of a limp or so much as a single tear in her clothing.
I watched as she calmly piled the twitching limbs in one place, then gathered dry pine needles to lay over them.
Then, without once looking at me, she turned and disappeared into the forest. Moments later, she reappeared, Sarah beside her, and she had in her arms more white chunks of flesh—what was left of Reilynn. Sarah was carrying the torso in her teeth.
They deposited the pieces on top of the pile. Among Edythe's, I caught sight of Reilynn's head, which she held by the roots of her long, straightened blond hair. Edythe dropped it on top, and I felt my stomach lurch. For a moment I stood, staring into the empty, glassy eyes.
Edythe drew a small silver object from her pocket—a butane lighter—and held the flame to the dry tinder. At once, the tinder caught, and spread over the pyre, tongues of orange flames stretching toward the sky. For a second Edythe stood and watched it, her face even and placid, as though mesmerized, and I saw the reflection of the flames in her eyes. Then she turned away.
"Make sure you get everything," Edythe said quietly to Sarah, and Sarah turned, walking about the campsite, every now and then seizing a white chunk of rock-like flesh and taking it back to hurl into the burning pile. Edythe prowled the campsite too, once or twice crouching down and taking a piece of body to be thrown with the others.
Finally they both stopped, apparently satisfied they had gotten it all, and they turned to watch the fire burn for the moment. A pillar of choking purple smoke was billowing toward the sky now, giving off the strong odor of burning incense. It was too sickly sweet, overpowering.
I saw Sarah show all her teeth in a wolf grin, and Edythe was suddenly smiling too, a fierce smile of triumph.
"Nice teamwork," Edythe murmured.
Sarah made a coughing sound, almost like a laugh.
Then the smile slowly faded from Edythe's face, and the light of victory in her eyes darkened. At last, she slowly turned to face me. Her face was suddenly wary, cautious. As though I were another enemy she had to face. Her eyes flickered down to the wound on my arm, then back up to my face. She didn't move.
I opened my mouth to say something—probably something dumb. But I couldn't get a single word out. I just stood there, staring at her, my mouth hanging open like an idiot.
Edythe took a hesitant, experimental step forward, toward me. Then she took another, and another. I just stood there, rooted to the spot, staring at her in a daze.
"Beau?" she said cautiously. Her eyes flickered down to my arm. "We should...treat that."
Edythe came forward another step. Her hands were out, palms forward, like she was trying to calm an injured animal. Or like she was a surrendering criminal, trying to keep an approaching police officer from shooting.
My brain was starting to work again, enough to realize that this was extremely bizarre behavior. It was finally over—Victor was gone. We were finally safe again. So why was Edythe looking at me with eyes that seemed so afraid?
As I unfroze, the images from the battle moments ago made a deep shudder run down my spine. Edythe stopped, freezing where she was. Her wary eyes studied my face.
"It's okay," she murmured in a low, soothing voice. "It's okay, Beau, it's over."
At last my body started working again, and I took two staggering, lurching steps forward. I didn't so much embrace her as fall into her. Her still body was hard and icy against mine, but I didn't care as I wrapped my arms around her, and buried my face in her hair.
"Edythe," I managed to gasp. "Edythe."
She was frozen for a second, then her arms slowly slid around my back, one hand going comfortingly to stroke the back of my head. I moved my face to her shoulder, and she murmured, "It's okay, it's over. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, it's okay..."
I didn't know exactly what she was apologizing for, but I didn't ask, instead using the little breath I'd gained back to finally ask the more important question. "Are you okay?"
"Fine," she said softly. "Absolutely fine, he never touched me."
"Sarah?"
Edythe laughed softly. "She's fine, too. Proud. Her first real battle. I'm a little worried she's going to turn into some kind of street ruffian after this, looking for fights all the time. She really enjoyed herself."
I frowned, suddenly picturing little Sarah with arm tattoos and walking around with a swagger. I shook my head.
"What about the others? Archie, Carine—the wolves?"
Edythe pulled back from me, and she was smiling. "Everyone's all right. The battle went as smoothly as we projected it would—the only wrinkle was here."
I let that sink in for a moment, then I smiled back. "Wow," I said. However, a moment later I frowned. "So...a second ago you were acting kind of weird. Like you were afraid of me. That kind of freaked me out." I was relieved my voice seemed to be completely working again, and it sounded relatively normal.
Edythe hesitated.
"What?" I tried to force myself to sound blasé. "You think I couldn't handle a bit of violence without fainting in shock or something?"
Edythe sighed. "No," she said, not meeting my eyes. "It's just...I guess that was a part of my love for you that I'd rather you didn't have to see. I want to show you the good part, the selfless part—not the ugly part. The things I said, the things I did...I know they weren't pretty." Her eyes drifted again to the fire, still blazing. Her gaze was distant.
"You know," she murmured, almost to herself, "When I looked into his face, for just a moment, I almost thought..."
She trailed off, and whatever she was thinking, she didn't finish. She shivered, and her eyes remained fixed on the ground.
I didn't know what she was talking about, and I just rubbed her arm. "Victor was trying to hurt us," I said. "He attacked us. I feel a bit bad for that Reilynn girl—but she had her chance, and she made her choice. The way I see it, you couldn't have done anything different. You couldn't just let him get away, or he would have just been back again."
When Edythe didn't reply, I went on, "I guess a part of me almost feels bad for him—Victor, I mean. He went to all this trouble for vengeance, and Joss never even cared about him. It's almost...tragic, isn't it?"
Edythe's eyes finally rose back to mine, and there was a look there I couldn't interpret. After a moment she looked away again, and her wandering gaze fell to the wound on my arm.
"We need to take care of that," she said, and she returned to the remains of the tent, where the pack still lay, and she came back a moment later with the first-aid kit.
I watched her clean the wound, clearing away the blood, and then applying antibiotic. The cut wasn't deep, and the bleeding was already pretty much stopped. She began to wind the gauze around it with expert precision, neither too loose nor too tight.
"I don't know what you were thinking," she muttered as she worked. "Unless you were trying to give me a heart attack—or whatever it is we vampires do when we go into shock."
"I thought maybe I could distract Reilynn," I said, with what I hoped was a nonchalant tone. "She is a newborn. I thought it might give Sarah a chance to get her."
Edythe muttered an oath. "And where, may I ask, did such an idiotic idea come from?"
I was a little miffed. "It worked in one of the Quileute legends. Didn't work so well here, I don't think Reilynn even noticed. Maybe I needed to be closer. Luckily Sarah recovered in time."
Edythe shook her head. "She wasn't that badly hurt. She was playing it up, hoping to catch her opponent by surprise. I only interfered because I was afraid your stunt would attract Reilynn's attention and get you killed before Sarah could take care of her."
I frowned, digesting that. My eyes dipped to the ground, and I could feel red splotches creeping up my neck. "...Oh."
Edythe sighed, relenting. "But, I suppose you did distract Victor for a second, which allowed me the moment I needed to help take Reilynn, which in turn, let us end the fight faster. Victor was startled. He didn't understand what you were trying to do—why you would be so foolish."
I was a little mollified.
Edythe noticed the injury on my wrist too, and she began rubbing antibiotic into that, though it was already dried over, and I figured it would begin to scab soon.
She sighed and shook her head. "Sometimes," she muttered, "when it comes to keeping you safe, I think you're my biggest obstacle."
"Sorry." I added under my breath, "Not for much longer, though." Not when I was a vampire.
A flash of pain flitted across her features, then they were smooth again. She gently touched the gauze where the cut was, running a soothing cool finger down it, then she turned.
"We should get going," she said abruptly. "The fight is over, but...I'm afraid there's going to be one more wrinkle."
"Wrinkle?" I said, frowning. "This isn't over?"
However, as I said the words, another wrinkle did occur to me—though I was sure it was not the wrinkle Edythe was referring to.
I thought of Jules, and our last moments on the edge of the forest. It felt like something constricted inside my chest, so tight something cracked. I felt a burning, so much worse than the cut along my arm. And as I wondered what I would say to her, I suddenly knew the hardest part of this day was not behind me.
Edythe's expression was grim. "Well, it seems—"
She broke off, and a flicker of alarm passed across her face. Her eyes suddenly shot to Sarah, as though Sarah had called her name.
They stared at each other for one long second. Sarah whined, an anxious, uneasy sound.
"What is he—" Edythe began. Then her face turned the color of ash. She started to shout something, but the sound was drowned in Sarah's earth-shattering howl. It tore through the air, making the ground quiver beneath my feet. A spasm rocked her huge body.
Edythe fell to her knees, hands pressed to her ears as though trying to shut out the noise. She didn't seem to see me as I knelt down in front of her. I stared into her contorted features with my own panicked terror, helpless.
Then Edythe's stricken posture sagged slightly, though her eyes remained wide, staring straight ahead. "Fine," she whispered. "Going to be fine. Help her, Sam..."
I grabbed Edythe by the shoulders. "What is it?" I whispered frantically. "What happened? Something in the clearing?"
Edythe blinked, and her faraway eyes suddenly refocused on me. She stared at me for a long second, and some of the horror seemed to return, just for an instant. Then she blinked again. "We've got to go," she whispered.
Her eyes turned swiftly to Sarah, who was trembling all over, eyes on the forest as though she meant to launch herself into it. "Go straight home," Edythe ordered. "Now! As fast as you can!"
Sarah hesitated, eyes turning back to Edythe. Then, with one jerk of the head that might have been a nod, she bolted into the forest in another direction.
Edythe didn't speak another word to me, didn't wait for me to climb awkwardly onto her back. Putting an arm around my back and the other behind my legs, we were suddenly hurtling through the trees, me folded up in her arms. I looked up to see her face was grim, a mask of concentration.
"What is it?" My question came out a hoarse rasp. "What's going on? What happened to the pack? Where are we going?"
"The clearing," Edythe answered curtly. "It seems like Sulpicia was finally able to spare a few guards. We've been expecting this—Archie saw it this morning and passed it along to Samantha, and to me through Sarah."
Edythe was still running at top speed, the trees jolting passed us, running together like water paints down a canvas.
I shook my head, trying to make my brain make sense of it. "So...So they're here to take care of Victor."
Edythe's mouth was tight. "Maybe. But...this timing...it's almost like they were waiting for the battle to be over before they approached." When she saw my expression, she shook her head, and tried to make her voice lighter. "But, this way is probably for the best. It would not have been...favorable, if the Volturi guards had come during the battle and came across the wolves. The wolves are explosive, unpredictable—everything Sulpicia considers a threat to her order."
I nodded, and yet I felt cold. There was something wrong in all this. The Volturi hanging back—waiting until after the battle to come, when we could have used the help earlier.
"Why?" I said quietly. "Why would they wait?"
Edythe's brow furrowed, and her face was grim. "I don't know. But I think we'll find out when we get there."
I felt like a coward for asking, but as the memories of the long dark cloaks and the knowledge graduation was over and I was still very human and vulnerable flashed through my mind, I had to. "Do we...have to be there?"
Edythe's voice was steady as she answered. "Better that we are. Jonathan is with them, and Cato and Tacita—from Archie's vision, Tacita's clearly been instructed to ask after you specifically, and with Tacita and Cato's combined tracking ability, they could easily track me down if they chose to. Better if we're with the others, and can present a united front."
I nodded slowly. I could feel the fear bubbling in my stomach as I thought of Jonathan, his cruel smile, his cold, crimson eyes. I shuddered slightly, and I felt Edythe's grip on me tighten.
"And..." I whispered. "What about the wolves?"
Edythe knew what I was asking. I hadn't forgotten Sarah's howl of agony or the look on Edythe's face as she saw whatever had happened to one of their own.
Edythe stared straight ahead, at the jade trees racing past. She didn't look at me.
"Tell me, Edythe," I said, and my low hoarse voice cracked.
She breathed deeply. "Something at the end. The wolves thought they'd gotten all their share of the newborns. But...one was hiding."
My stomach contracted. It couldn't be.
"Lee found her. He went at her on his own—overconfident. Cocky. He engaged her without waiting for backup."
"Lee," I breathed. A relief I was ashamed of flooded through me, followed by more appropriate concern. "Is he...going to be okay?"
Silence.
Edythe said very quietly, with obvious pain, "Lee...wasn't hurt."
I stared up at her face, which continued to gaze straight ahead.
At last she said, voice low, "We're almost there."
I turned my head this time to see what she was looking at. I picked it out almost right away—a purple column of thick smoke, just like the one at our campsite. Only thicker, bigger.
I couldn't be distracted for long and my eyes returned to Edythe's face.
"Someone was hurt, though," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
"Yes," she whispered.
I didn't want to ask the question. Maybe because somehow, I already knew the answer. But I had to know for sure.
"Who?" My hoarse voice was barely above a whisper.
The trees were slowing down around us as we drew near our destination.
For the first time, Edythe dropped her gaze to meet mine. I saw the apology and regret in her face, and it was answer enough.
I felt a weakness spreading through my entire body. My limbs felt limp, I couldn't seem to think.
"She's going to live," Edythe whispered hurriedly. "She's going to be okay. Here...we're almost there. I'll let you talk to Carine. She treated her, or started to."
I nodded. Some distant part of me knew it wasn't right, letting Edythe see what I was feeling so plainly on my face—forcing her into the role of reassuring me—but I couldn't seem to stop it. My earlier treacherous discovery was still too fresh inside me, and at her words, I felt some of the pressure I'd felt drop down on my chest lift. Still my fists remained clenched, my stomach felt tight, like I might throw up.
Edythe slowed to a walk as we entered the clearing, the same clearing they had played war games in preparation for the battle. She approached Archie first, who was grinning and looking ridiculously relaxed.
"How long do we have?" Edythe asked him.
Archie shrugged. "Another five minutes. Don't worry, it's going to be fine."
Edythe seemed to realize she was still carrying me princess-style, and she let me down.
Maybe she shouldn't have. I was beyond embarrassment at the moment, and as soon as my feet touched the ground, my weak knees gave out and Edythe reached out quickly to catch me.
"Carine," she called in a low voice, and Carine turned her eyes to us, immediately approaching, brow furrowed with concern.
"Carine," Edythe said in a low, urgent voice, "he wants to know about Julie Black."
Carine took one look at me, then nodded once. "Her life isn't in any danger. I examined her myself. She is healing at an incredible rate, though her injuries were quite extensive... I think it will take her a few days to recover fully. As soon as this is over, I will be going back over to do what I can for her. Samantha is trying to get her to phase back to human form. That will make treating her easier." She smiled ruefully. "Unfortunately, I have never been to veterinarian school."
I looked between Edythe and Carine. Once again, I tried to keep my voice steady, though I didn't quite succeed. "What...happened exactly?"
Carine's face was somber again. "Another wolf was in danger. She knocked him out of the way, but that, unfortunately, left her vulnerable."
Edythe said quietly, "The newborn got her arms around her. Only for a moment, but...most of the bones on the right half of her body were shattered."
I flinched and, before I could stop it, I felt my hand gripping Edythe's shoulder tighten convulsively to keep myself upright. My breathing was shallow. "...Permanent?" I managed to say.
Carine understood what I meant. "No," she said softly. "There will be no permanent damage. She will recover completely."
I nodded once, and looked away.
"Three minutes," Archie muttered to Edythe.
That brought my mind back to the present situation at hand. I closed my eyes and concentrated on breathing, deeply and evenly. I did my best to force all that from my mind for the moment. Still the horror and terror continued to eat through me like a live animal—but the fact Carine and Edythe had said it was going to be okay would have to be good enough for now. At least until this crisis was past.
The Cullens stood in a loose semicircle around the bonfire. The fire was hardly visible through the column of thick purple-black smoke, and it formed a sharp contrast to the emerald green grass of the clearing and the bright, glittering figures surrounding it.
I noticed Jessamine, standing with her back to us, in the shadow of the smoke, so her alabaster skin didn't glitter the way the others' did. She was bent slightly, and she seemed to be watching something intently.
I squinted at the object in the grass beside the pillar of flames, and I sucked in an involuntary gasp as the object moved. I saw beneath Jessamine's outstretched arm a pair of eyes, both a shockingly bright crimson, brighter than Reilynn's, so bright they almost glowed in the gloom. He stared straight at me.
"He surrendered," Edythe said quietly. "He said he didn't want to fight and Carine agreed to spare him... Jessamine doesn't like it."
Edythe studied the boy with a cool expression, and I looked at him, too. He looked about my age, maybe a little younger. He was built slight, slighter than me, and had short dark hair.
Without warning, he suddenly threw back his head and let loose an animalistic howl.
Jessamine snarled and he shrank back. His fingers dug trenches in the dirt like claws, and he shook his head wildly, desperately. Jessamine took a step closer, slipping deeper into her crouch, ready to spring at any moment.
Edythe casually took a step to the side, putting herself between me and him. However, I could still see him over Edythe's head, and I couldn't seem to tear my eyes away.
Carine was at Jessamine's side in an instant, and she placed a calming hand on her shoulder. Her eyes turned to the boy. She spoke calmly, resolutely. "Be still, young one. We have no desire to destroy you, but you must exercise control or we will have no choice."
"How can you stand it?" he asked through gritted teeth, eyes fastened on me. He was bent nearly to the ground, trembling all over, nostrils dilated, eyes wild.
"You must stand it," Carine said solemnly. "It is possible to learn control...and it is the only thing that will save you now."
The boy clutched his hands to his head, shutting his eyes tight, but a moment later they were open again, his crimson eyes focused all on me. Even the universal beauty all vampires shared was distorted, barely recognizable on his savage face, twisted with rage and thirst. He stared at me with feral intensity.
I couldn't look away from him, either. And I wondered if I was looking into a mirror of my future.
I was about to ask whether maybe we ought to move away from him when I felt Edythe suddenly go very still beside me.
Carine and Jessamine backed toward the rest of us, while Eleanor, Royal and Earnest all converged on where Edythe, Archie and I stood. I was in the center, behind the wall of defense, the united front.
I forced my eyes away from the boy, staring at the far side of the clearing, to the north, looking for them.
I couldn't see them at first. I only saw smoke—dense, oily, twisting low to the ground, drifting toward us lazily as though driven by the wind. However, as I squinted, I saw a dark mass appear in the center.
"Hmm," a dead voice murmured from the dark mist. I felt my stomach turn to ice—I would recognize that apathy anywhere.
"Jonathan," Edythe said in an even tone, inclining her head in acknowledgment, voice coolly polite.
I saw four dark shapes solidify in the haze. Jonathan strode ahead in front, his long dark cloak whipped by the wind and his soft, childlike features obscured by his deep hood.
My eyes turned to the other three figures behind him. In spite of the long hoods casting their faces in shadow and hiding their eyes, I thought I recognized them. I guessed the smaller one to be Alexa, the sister Jonathan didn't seem to go anywhere without, and I thought the taller one probably had to be Cato, the long-distance tracker. The other one—female, I thought—tilted back her head and let her hood fall back enough that her intense, crimson eyes stared right at me. Tacita.
Edythe was tense beside me.
Jonathan's eyes drifted slowly across the luminous faces of the Cullens, and finally fell on the boy, curled up on the ground beside the fire.
"Hmm," he drawled. "What is that?"
"He has surrendered," Edythe answered.
Jonathan's dark eyes returned to Edythe's face, and for the first time, I saw the barest flicker of surprise there. "Surrendered?"
"He didn't want to fight," Edythe explained. "Carine gave him the option."
A hissing voice spoke, not Jonathan this time, but Tacita. "There is no mercy for those who break the laws."
As Tacita spoke, her eyes remained riveted, not on the boy, but on me.
Carine answered mildly. "I saw no reason to destroy him, so long as he no longer had the will to fight us. It seems he was never taught. But that is in your hands, of course."
Jonathan looked annoyed. "Indeed, that is for us to decide," he said.
His eyes swept the clearing again, briefly resting on the pile of burning corpses. "Well, it seems that you've already taken care of the problem, so we didn't need to come here after all. Lady Sulpicia sends her greetings to you, Carine...and now, I suppose, her thanks."
Carine didn't answer, only bowed her head.
Jonathan's eyes returned to Carine. "How many?" he asked, almost lazily. "All the reports say there was quite an uproar in Seattle...we would have been here sooner if we hadn't been otherwise engaged."
Edythe's eyes narrowed. She was staring at Jonathan, mouth pressed in a tight line.
"Eighteen," answered Carine, "including this one here."
Jonathan's lazy smile froze, and his eyes widened. He looked stunned. His eyes flickered back to the bonfire.
He recovered quickly, but her eyes continued to linger on the pyre, as though re-evaluating its size.
"Eighteen," he muttered at last, almost to himself.
"They were all brand-new," Carine said dismissively, modest again. "All unskilled."
"And what about the creator?" Jonathan asked, his cold eyes once again fastened on Carine's face.
It was Edythe who spoke. "Victor," she said in a low voice. "That was his name. He...has been taken care of as well." Her eyes flickered toward the eastern forest, where the pillar of smoke was still visible in the sky, and Jonathan followed her gaze briefly before his eyes returned to Edythe.
"And, I assume this Victor was in addition to the eighteen?" he said.
"Yes," Edythe answered. "He had only one with him—another young one, though a little older than most of those here, perhaps a year."
"Twenty," Jonathan breathed, his eyes narrowed, his face wary now. "And who dealt with the creator?"
"I did." Edythe's tone was inflectionless, but her eyes seemed to burn, and the corner of her mouth twitched, as though she were fighting not to smile.
"I see." Jonathan turned slowly then, his eyes going to the boy, still curled beside the fire.
"You there!" he snapped, his dull, bored voice suddenly harsh. "Your name."
The newborn glared at him, still trembling, but defiant.
Jonathan's mouth spread into a dazzling smile.
The boy's scream of agony cut through the quiet of the clearing. His body arched stiffly into a distorted, unnatural position, and he shook with convulsions. I could see his red eyes bulge in his head, rolling wildly.
I couldn't look at him. My eyes dropped and my stomach churned and twisted as memories of Edythe under the same torturing gaze filled my mind.
The others all stood motionless beside me, watching, their faces perfectly blank.
The screaming intensified to a shriek, and seemed to go on forever before at last it cut short, and the boy lay gasping on the ground.
"Let's try this again, shall we?" Jonathan said pleasantly. "Name?" His dark eyes burned with a kind of demonic joy, and a smile played around his mouth.
"Brenden," the boy managed, gasping.
He screamed again, writhing, body twisted back unnaturally.
Edythe's face was blank, but I could feel her tension beside me. "He'll tell you anything you want to know," she said quietly. "You don't have to do that."
The air was quiet again as Jonathan's eyes flickered back to Edythe. There was a glitter of humor there. "Oh, I know," he said, showing his perfect white teeth.
Over Jonathan's shoulder, I saw Tacita, whose eyes had never once moved from me since she entered the clearing, glanced for the first time in Jonathan's direction. Maybe I was imagining it, but I thought I saw the hard line of her mouth tighten with dislike. Cato's expression remained perfectly smooth and blank. I couldn't make out the expression of the small figure I thought was Alexa beneath her hood.
"Brenden," Jonathan said sharply, suddenly all business again. "Is that true? Were there twenty?"
The boy was on his side, wheezing, face pressed into the dirt. "I—I don't know," he gasped. He went on quickly, "Yeah, I think so. Twenty sounds right. I think there were more, but a couple of them got in a fight on the way..."
"And was it someone named Victor who created you?"
"I don't know," he gasped again. "We never saw him, and Reilynn never said his name. She said our thoughts weren't safe."
His eyes flickered once to Edythe, just for a fraction of a moment, then returned swiftly to Jonathan, terror in his eyes.
"Hmm," said Jonathan.
Victor's plan had been better and more well thought out than we had given him credit for. We'd assumed the reason that the newborns were wreaking such havoc was because the creator was inept. But the real reason was because he had another newborn looking after them to keep his involvement a secret. It didn't matter if the newborns did attract the attention of the Volturi, because if Victor hadn't followed Edythe to the clearing, it would have been impossible to link him to any of this.
"So this Reilynn was your leader," Jonathan said. "Why did she bring you here?"
Brenden spoke quickly, almost tripping over the words in an effort to get them all out. "Reilynn said we had an enemy. She told us the yellow-eyes would come to destroy us if we didn't destroy them first. This was their territory and once we destroyed them the entire city would be ours. She said we had twice as many as they did, and it would be easy. She gave us the scent of one human, and said his scent would lead us to them—and whoever got to him first could have him."
I felt Edythe's rigid tension beside me. Her eyes were intent on the boy's face.
The boy kept on talking, as if hoping the longer he babbled on, the longer he'd escape the pain.
"Not sure what happened. We split up like Reilynn said, but the other group never met back with us. And then Reilynn left us alone and she didn't come back... Then it was all chaos and everyone being torn apart...and I couldn't fight anymore..." His eyes momentarily returned to Carine.
"I see," Jonathan drawled again. His eyes went to Carine, too, and he looked annoyed. "And you're sure you got all of them?" he said suddenly.
Carine's face was smooth as she replied. "Yes. We split up as well."
"Impressive," Jonathan admitted grudgingly. "Escaping such a large offensive intact. But what caused it, I wonder. And why does it sound like the human was the target?" His eyes returned briefly to me.
"Victor held a grudge against Beau," Edythe answered, voice even, impassive.
I glanced at Edythe. That wasn't exactly the entire truth. But then, maybe it was better not to give them more information than we had to.
Jonathan smiled again, eyes going back to me. "Strange," he drawled. "This one seems to bring out such strong reactions in our kind. I wonder..."
Edythe suddenly stiffened, her face like marble. Her eyes burned as she stared at Jonathan, who was still smiling.
"Would you mind not doing that?" Edythe asked, and though her tone was polite, there was a deadly edge to it.
Jonathan laughed, and it was an oddly pleasant, lilting sound. "Just checking. Seems no harm done."
I shivered slightly, glad for whatever it was that kept the sadistic kid's powers out of my mind.
Jonathan started to turn his eyes away, back toward the boy, but suddenly Tacita spoke. Her voice was harsh, low, breaking from her mouth like a nest of hissing snakes.
"I have a message from Lady Sulpicia," she said, and her dark red eyes were focused like lasers on me. "Your grace period is at an end. Change the boy...or suffer the consequences."
I felt Edythe bristle beside me. However, when she spoke her voice was mild and polite as before. "I'm surprised Sulpicia has the resources to expend on such minor matters in light of the...circumstances which delayed you."
Tacita met Edythe's eyes coolly, without wavering. "I am only passing along Lady Sulpicia's words," she answered. "You would be wise to heed them."
Edythe stared back at Tacita. Their eyes were locked, boring into each other. The air crackled with the silent hostility.
Archie cut in. "The date is set," he said, speaking up for the first time. "We're waiting to time it right, so it doesn't look suspicious. I'm sure Sulpicia wouldn't argue with that."
"Soon," Tacita said, and her eyes were back on me. I shivered under her icy gaze.
Jonathan looked vaguely annoyed—I could tell he preferred to be the one to do the threatening. "Well," he drawled. "As I said, it seems our presence has been rendered unnecessary. I'm sorry now we missed the fight—it sounds like it would have been entertaining."
He turned his eyes on the newborn again, and he looked almost bored. "Tacita. Take care of that, won't you?"
"Wait."
Edythe's eyes were on Carine as she spoke and Jonathan reluctantly turned his eyes back to her.
"He doesn't seem unwilling to learn, now that he knows the rules..."
"Of course," added Carine. "We would be more than happy to take responsibility for Brenden."
Brenden was staring at Edythe with a strange expression. His face must have been so distorted with fear and thirst that I thought I must have been misinterpreting it. Because for a moment, I thought he looked almost resentful.
"I'm afraid that was not among Lady Sulpicia's orders," Jonathan said, his eyes cold. He turned to Tacita again, and jerked his head very slightly in Brenden's direction.
Tacita turned, approaching, her cloak swirling out behind her.
The boy watched her, and his face was blank. With shock or incomprehension of what was about happen, I wasn't sure.
I felt Edythe squeeze my hand beside me, and I knew I should look away, but I couldn't.
The boy finally reacted, cringing away and pulling his hands up over his head protectively. The movement was so human I felt something catch in my throat as I knew what was about to happen.
Tacita was fast—her hand no more than a blur as it flashed forward, like a striking cobra.
I knew how it would happen—they would tear off the head first, incapacitating him, then tear the rest of him apart and set the pieces afire. Just as Edythe had done to Victor. I wanted to close my eyes, to turn away, but I had frozen where I was.
I stared with horror, expecting the worst—but then something strange happened.
Tacita's clawlike fingers were within feet of the boy's face when her hand struck something hard. In midair, her hand snapped sideways, as though glancing off some invisible barrier.
A growing snarl on her face, Tacita lunged again, this time throwing her entire body into the attack, but once again she was repelled, and the rebounded force of her own attack sent her staggering back. She struck again, and again came up against a wall.
I squinted at the space, and I realized I could see something—in the billowing smoke just beside the boy I realized I could make out part of a shape, outlined in the haze.
Cato seemed to be thinking the same thing I was and he approached, using his cloak to blow the thick smoke in the boy's direction. As the smoke drifted toward him, it became visible. A perfectly round sphere, surrounding him, keeping out the smoke—and more besides.
"He has a gift?" Jonathan demanded, spinning on Edythe and his dark red eyes coldly furious. "And you conveniently forgot to mention this, I suppose."
"I didn't know," Edythe answered calmly. "He didn't know himself until just this moment."
The boy's hands had come away from his head, and he was staring down at them in wonder. Then he glanced at Edythe, as though looking to her for answers.
Tacita hissed. However, I thought I saw a spark of interest in her cold eyes.
"Huh," Jonathan drawled, composure restored as he turned his eyes back on the boy. "I wonder..."
The boy let out a scream of sudden agony, and the invisible sphere around him seemed suddenly to shatter into a thousand fragments, as though it were made of glass. His back arched, he writhed.
Jonathan smiled, satisfied, and after a minute longer than really could have been necessary, the boy finally lay still, gasping and whimpering.
"I suppose that answers that question," Jonathan said pleasantly. He glanced back at Tacita. "Now you may take care of it."
However, Tacita stood where she was, unmoving. Her red eyes were focused on the boy, and they narrowed slightly, considering.
Jonathan's eyes turned cold. "Well, Tacita?"
Tacita pulled her gaze from the quivering form.
"I believe...this one ought to be taken back to Lady Sulpicia," she said evenly. "For evaluation. The potential of this power...she may be interested in it."
Jonathan scowled, and he reminded me of a spoiled kid who'd been told he was not going to get the toy he wanted. He said coolly, speaking very low and very fast, "We were sent here to eliminate the law breakers."
Tacita's lips barely moved as she replied, as though trying to shut out the audience. "Lady Sulpicia does not appreciate waste." She added, "And if she evaluates him and finds him wanting, there may be more appropriate judgments which may serve as a warning to others..."
Jonathan stared back at Tacita for a long moment, his face sullen and resentful. Then he turned away to face us again.
Tacita seemed to take that as assent and she rounded on the boy, who was still trembling on the ground.
"Get up!" she snarled harshly.
The boy only continued to tremble, and his eyes turned up to Edythe. They were pleading.
Tacita reached to seize him, but her hand only met the mysterious shield again. She snarled with ferocity.
"I think you were just given an order," Jonathan said softly.
The boy shrieked again, thrashing in the dirt, and this time when he stopped, he allowed Tacita to drag him roughly to his feet.
"You will come with us," Tacita said coldly.
The boy shot another terrified look at Edythe, as he struggled against his captors. "Please," he gasped. "Please, don't let—"
Tacita struck him hard under the chin, and before he could finish, I watched in horror as his head toppled from his shoulders. Next was his arms and legs, torso—until he was no more than pieces on the ground.
"I think he will be easier to carry this way," Tacita said dispassionately.
Jonathan wrinkled his nose, still looking vaguely irritated.
Tacita and Cato quickly gathered up the dismembered parts, stowing them in pouches under their cloaks. The eyes of the head were glassy as Tacita, her expression holding no more emotion than if she'd picked up a soccer ball, took it.
"Nice to see you again, Carine," Jonathan said. "I'll pass along your regards to Lady Sulpicia."
"Please do," said Carine, her face smooth, betraying no emotion.
And with that, the four cloaked figures turned, disappearing into the thick smoke.