Charcoal Tears (20 page)

Silas made a sound in the back of his throat, a gruff hint of dark amusement. “You and the rest of the world.”

Tariq saw the bags then, and stood back for us to enter.

“Has Gerald been giving you trouble?” I asked as I began to unpack the bags.

“Nah, I’ve been using the window to climb in and out of my room. He’s been calling for you a lot though.”

I nodded. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. And I’ll keep bringing food.”

We unloaded quickly, because I didn’t want to catch my father, and I handed over the majority of my pay to Tariq. He caught me on the doorstep as Silas strode back to the car.

“Why are you hanging out with Mr. Quillan’s brother? I thought you were with Cabe and Noah.”

“I am… but Mr. Quillan and Silas are there too. They’re… connected.”

“Wait, you’re staying with Mr. Quillan?”

I nodded, and Tariq fell back with a half-snort, half-laugh. “Oh man, wait until the girls at school find out. They’re gonna
love
you. Or maybe hate you.” He scratched his head, unsure.

I shook my head at him, a small smile on my lips. “Stay safe, Tariq. Do you have Cabe or Noah’s phone number?”

“Yeah, Cabe gave me his.”

“Good.” I gave him a quick hug and then jogged back to the car.

Silas let me into Cabe and Noah’s apartment when we got back, and walked away before I had to consider an awkward goodnight. I watched his broad back disappear into the other apartment, feeling a sharp pang in my chest. He had given me a lot to think about, that night. I walked to the kitchen and made myself a sandwich, but it tasted like cardboard, and it was hard to swallow. Inexplicably, I wanted to curl into a ball and cry. There was somebody following me, waging an impossible battle with me, because I had no way to fight them—I didn’t even know who they were. I was separated from Tariq, and everything else was changing too quickly for me to keep up with it all. Cabe and Noah weren’t just friends that I’d met recently; they were unaccountably precious to me, a wellspring of warmth and happiness to bring colour into my world. I had always cared about Quillan and Silas, treasuring their separate roles in my life, both distinct and yet somehow distant… but now? Now… how could I ever live without them? Quillan was more than a comforting word on a bad day, and Silas was more than the silent connection that I had always relied on.

They were all so much more.

The next day I stumbled into the bathroom with the bundle of clothes that someone—presumably Noah—had folded onto the end of my couch as I slept. I emerged into the kitchen in pleated, linen shorts and a fitted peach sweater with a pretty, swooping neckline. I was starting to like the new clothes, even if it had been a painful process to obtain them.

We piled into the jeep to go to school, and were about to drive away when a black BMW pulled out ahead of us. Quillan got out of the driver’s side and approached the passenger window, knocking. I rolled down the window and he handed me a black canvas book bag. I peeked inside, finding my books and my cell phone.

“Thanks, Bossman!”

He grinned, said goodbye to the boys and climbed back into his car.

“Where do you guys keep all these cars?” I questioned, watching it drive away.

“We have a basement,” Cabe answered from the back.

“Are there any spaces left for the other people in the building?” I teased. They didn’t answer, and I flicked my eyes between them.

“It’s just us,” Cabe finally said. “We own the whole building.”

I decided right then that I wanted to work for the Zevghéri. I’d be able to get Tariq away from our father, and since Silas didn’t want me to work at the club, it was possible that he’d help me.

“Why did you tell those guys at the party that I wasn’t ready to meet the other Zev… Zegh—”

“Zevghéri,” Noah supplied hesitantly. “Because you aren’t ready. There is a lot that you need to learn.”

“I already know about the pair thing, so if that’s what you’re worried about—”

The car jerked to the side of the road and Noah turned to stare at me. Cabe drew in a ragged breath in the back.

“What?” Noah said slowly. “What did you say?”

I looked at my hands. “Miro told me that we’re all connected. He said that people get pairs when they get powers, and that if your pairs are strong then you’re strong too?” The explanation came out of me sounding more like a question.

“That’s all?” Cabe asked, his hand shooting forward to touch my knee. Insistent. “That’s all he said?”

It was too similar to Silas’s reaction. There was something big that they weren’t telling me. “Yes.”

Noah’s breath came out in a rush and he started the car back up again. “Sorry, pretty girl. You shocked us.”

I stared at the window, not really noticing the scenery that shot past us. I
needed
to know more. Noah parked at school and Cabe snagged my book bag before I could pick it up. They escorted me to homeroom and I walked in ahead of Cabe. Everyone in the room fell into a deadening silence, and turned to stare at me. I blinked back at them, and then something on the wall caught my attention. The wall was plastered with pictures.

“No…” The word left me in a breathless plea, and I heard Cabe calling out to Noah in the hallway.

I stood there in shock as the boys strode into the room and started tearing pictures from the walls. Everyone else watched as well. When Mr. Thomas came in and saw what was happening, he made the other students leave.

His hand fell onto my shoulder. “Seraph? What’s going on?”

I took a step away from him, not liking the unfamiliar touch, and reached for one of the pictures. It peered into the front of Silas’s Jaguar. A sob caught in the back of my throat and I folded up the picture and stuffed it into my pocket.

“I’m going to fetch the school councillor,” Mr. Thomas said, beginning to stride out of the room.

“Get Mr. Quillan,” Cabe said, just before he left. “She doesn’t do well with strangers.”

Mr. Thomas shut the door behind him and I grabbed the garbage bin from the corner of the room. I started filling it with pictures, trying not to look at them as I did. I caught the flash of my thigh. I was in a leather skirt at the club. Panic started to swell, and I shoved the pictures into the bin faster. Once all of the pictures were safely tied up in a garbage bag, I slumped over to my desk at the back of the room. Someone had scratched words into the surface.

I warned you. Now you pay.

I surged up from the seat and marched to the door, opening it to reveal Quillan and a woman that I didn’t recognise. She called me
sweetie
and took me by the elbow. I found myself in a boxy office, facing her across a desk, Quillan beside me. My jaw was locked up, and I couldn’t seem to understand what she was asking, because the ringing in my ears was too loud for me to hear her.

Eventually she sighed and stood up, Quillan said something to her, his deep voice sending familiar waves over me. She nodded and walked out. I heard him say my name, and felt his touch on the side of my face, turning me. He pulled me into his arms and I felt the press of his shirt buttons against my cheek. I stared at the wall, finding myself unable to look away from a spidery crack that fissured up to the ceiling. The blue of Quillan’s shirt hinted in my peripheral vision, the lull of his resonating tone wafting past my ears. He was speaking, but I couldn’t make out what he said. He brushed at my chin, catching the falling wetness that escaped my unblinking stare, and then he was shifting, gently easing me back into my seat. He got up, opened the door, and the woman came back in brandishing a glass of water. Quillan took it, easing it against my lips, and muttering a word in that calming voice of his.

“Drink.”

So I did.

He pulled the glass away when I had finished, and handed it back to the woman.

“Better?” she asked, seeming hopeful.

I nodded.

“Great!” She smiled like she had accomplished something, and then schooled her features into matronly concern, leaning forward to plant her hands against her desk. “I need you to tell me who took photos of you, Seraph. Do you know?”

I shook my head.

“Does she talk?” The woman aimed this question at Quillan.

“She’s quiet around people she doesn’t know.” He shifted in his seat. “I heard some of the kids talking about a prank. I’m sure there’s no need to call the police.”

Prank? Police?

“I’d still like to see the photos.” The woman pursed her lips.

“They were insignificant.” Quillan tried to brush her off. “Her walking to class and such. It’s a prank, and it shouldn’t be hard to nut out who’s behind it. Leave it with me.”

“The students do seem to trust you,” she replied, appraising him. I caught the glint of interest in her eye and tried not to dry heave. Quillan was probably in his mid-twenties.
She
was pushing forty. Strangely, I didn’t feel any alien jealousy as I occasionally did with Noah and Cabe. I was probably too frightened to feel much of anything right now.

I tuned out the rest of the meeting and when it was over, Quillan told me to go out to the car park where Cabe and Noah were waiting to take me home. I nodded to him, but returned to my homeroom instead. The door was unlocked and the classroom was dark. I sat down at my desk, staring at the words the messenger had carved.

Waiting.

I didn’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t a buzzing sound. I checked under the desk and found a cell phone taped there. I extracted it and flipped it open to read the message.

Are you ready to do as you’re told, little Seraph?

I typed a message back.

What do you want?

Stay away from your pair. Do not complete the bond. I’m coming for you.

I flipped the phone closed and stood. This person had something to do with the Zevghéri. That’s why Quillan didn’t want to get the police involved. I pushed up from the desk and made my way to the car park. The phone vibrated again as I was pushing open the door leading outside. I flipped it open.

I warned you. Again
.

I glanced up and caught sight of Cabe and Noah just as a white van screeched into the parking lot and a mass of men with black cloth tied over their faces jumped out, converging on them. I screamed out a warning and dashed forward, but they were already being pulled back into the van, and it was driving away. I found my canvas bag and the keys to the jeep on the ground, as well as someone’s phone. I gathered the stuff and tossed it into the Jeep, jumping behind the wheel and tearing out of the lot after the van. The car was filling with little wings of light, but I ignored the valcrick, grabbing the phone that one of the boys had dropped. It looked like Noah’s. I found Quillan’s contact and hit the call button.

“Someone just took them,” I blurted as soon as he picked up the phone.

There was silence on the other end, and I heard heavy footsteps and a door slamming. “Where are you? What happened?”

I told him, and he started swearing. “Alright.” More swearing. “Keep following them, Silas can track you on the GPS. I’m going to put you on hold.” The phone became silent and I turned it on speaker, putting it in my lap so that I could focus on following the van.

They drove for half an hour and then parked under a bridge. They dragged Cabe out first, and he fell as soon as his feet hit the ground. I pulled the car over a short distance away and ran down to them, keeping a measly cluster of straggly trees between us as I peered through to see what was happening. They pulled Noah out next, and he seemed to be just as unsteady as Cabe. Four of the masked men pulled them further under the bridge and sat them up against one of the concrete archway supports. Two of the men then stepped back to the van and the other two pulled out guns.

I fumbled to retrieve Noah’s phone, my voice weak and terrified. “M-miro?”

“Talk to me.”

“They have guns.”

Quillan was saying something but I couldn’t hear him anymore. Blood was roaring in my ears and my hands were shaking too much to hold up the phone. It slipped, fell to the ground, and the men raised the guns.

“
STOP
!” I screamed, running forward and shooting my arms out like I could warn them off.

The air crackled and drew tight around me. A growling roll of thunder shook the ground and a bolt of light collided with the van, ripping through the air like a savage, incandescent knife. The van sparked, and then exploded. It threw me back, and I raised my arms to shield my face by instinct. Bits of metal cut into the skin of my arms and something sliced into my leg. I rolled over, groaning, and crawled to where I had dropped the phone.

“Miro?”

“What the hell was that?”

“I blew up the van.”

“Can you get somewhere safe? Silas is three minutes away.”

“Sure,” I muttered, stuffing the phone into my pocket.

Walking was hard, but I limped down to where the van was now in flames. I could see Noah and Cabe by the concrete archway, miraculously unharmed, their eyes hazed over and confused. Nobody else was standing. They must have run. I walked all the way around the van, and caught sight of someone’s leg. The van door had popped off and it was on top of him. He wasn’t getting up or making any sounds.

I swallowed the bile that rushed into the back of my throat and hurried to the door. I tried to pull it off him, but the metal was too hot, and it burned my hands. I cried out, falling back into the dirt. I struggled up and pulled the sleeves of my sweater over my hands, using that to shield me as best I could as I put all of my weight into moving the door. It finally began to shift, and I heaved it to the side, crying out as pain rocked through me.

The man was staring at the sky.

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