Incubus (37 page)

sat back, waiting for him to recover. I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. Amber was

watching us from the corner of the loading doc. I was on my feet in a heartbeat.

“You,” I hissed. Lucas glanced up at me, surprised by the venom in my voice.

“That was
the call
.” She stared at me, sickly fascinated. Her mouth quirked up into a smirk.

“Finally it all makes sense.”

“You couldn’t stop pushing,” I growled. “Congratulations. You’re about to see
exactly
how bad I

can hurt you.” Amber’s smirk vanished. I tilted my head, studying her almost clinically. “You’ve tried

so hard to drive me out of this school. It’s going to be poetic justice when Fiedler expels you on

Monday.”

“In your dreams,” she scoffed, but I could tell she was uneasy.

I laughed. The sound was low, guttural. Frightening.

“Fine,” she said, struggling for bravado. “So I get kicked out of school. You think that’s going to

destroy me?”

“Oh right. Miss popular. You must have a pretty awesome social life to fall back on. Let’s see

what happens when every straight guy at this school decides he hates you.” I took a step toward her.

She skittered back away from me, watching me with widening eyes.

“You—you can’t do that.”

“I guess we’ll find out soon, won’t we?” I took another step toward Amber. She flinched. “I tried

to take the high road,” I said, my voice full of menace. “But now—you’re about to see me get

creative.”

Amber turned and fled into the night. I heard a sharp breath and turned. Lucas was watching me

with a strange expression on his face.

“Lucas?” Concerned, I dropped beside him once more. Lucas startled back, then smiled wryly.

“I keep forgetting how powerful you are,” he said. “Remind me not to piss you off. Wouldn’t want

you using your powers on me.”

His words bore a hole straight through my heart.

Lucas groaned and rolled to his knees. “You know,” he said. “I think this hospital idea is worth

exploring after all. Shall we?”

I helped him to his feet, using the moment to hide my expression before Lucas could see.

Gretchen met us at the hospital; I’d called her on the drive over. When we described the accident to

the admitting nurse, she got Lucas in to see a doctor immediately. Gretchen and I took turns pacing

the waiting room while the doctors ran Lucas through a variety of tests.

Finally, they called us back to his room.

“Mild concussion,” a young doctor said. “We’d like to keep him overnight for observation, but if

everything checks out in the morning, he’ll be free to go home.”

“Thank you,” Gretchen said, finally letting herself relax.

“You’re a very lucky kid,” the doctor said to Lucas. “An accident like that, you could have

fractured any number of bones, not the least of which is a vertebrae.”

Gretchen closed her eyes, sick with the thought of what might have been.

“You’re scaring my sister,” Lucas said.

The doctor smiled and closed Lucas’s chart, slipping it over the end of his bed. “Well. Time to get

some rest.” She glanced at us. “Are either of you staying the night?”

“I will,” Gretchen said. She turned to me. “Could you go home and update the others?”

I nodded. Gretchen sat next to Lucas on the bed and gave him a gentle hug. I saw his eyes search

me out as I left, and I nodded my goodbyes. He gave me a faint smile, but I could tell he was still

shaken by the events of the evening. It felt like my place was here, by his side. But something else was

pulling me away—something I needed to take care of tonight. I comforted myself with the thought

that Gretchen would watch over Lucas—and they’d be away from the house in case anything went

wrong.

Dad and Seth were waiting up for me when I got home. They were both relieved to hear that Lucas

was okay. I didn’t tell Dad about Amber’s involvement. That would get too close to the fact that she

was a spotter, something that neither Lucas nor I had shared with the Guard yet. As far as Dad and

everyone else was concerned, Lucas had been the victim of a hit and run.

After I’d recounted the news from the hospital, Dad decided it was past time for us all to get some

sleep. I went up to my room and closed the door. I curled up on my bed, not bothering to change. As I

waited for the others to fall asleep, I had plenty of time to run over the events of the past few nights.

I didn’t like who I was becoming, what these Lilitu powers were turning me into. I needed to end

this war now. If I had to wait too much longer, I feared I would become too tainted—and Sansenoy’s

offer to make me human would be rescinded. Assuming, of course, that I hadn’t already crossed

Sansenoy’s line.

Sometime after three in the morning, I cloaked myself, walked out of my house, and crossed the

yard to the Guard’s front door. I gripped the keys I’d taken from Lucas’s jeans at the hospital.

Silently, I slid them into the front door lock and turned it. With the faintest click, the lock slid free. I

cracked the door open. The foyer was empty. I eased into the house as quietly as I could and pulled the

door closed behind me.

The living room was dark, but I could see the sleeping forms of Guardsmen stretched out on rows

of cots. The sounds of their breathing filled the house like the rustle of grass in a field.

Suddenly, a Guardsman entered the foyer from the dining room. He was holding a cup of steaming

coffee. He looked at the door suspiciously. I froze. Of course they’d have left a guard on duty. I was

lucky I hadn’t opened the door to find a sword spearing me through the heart. I almost lost my courage

in that moment. But I couldn’t turn back now—the front door was closed, and if I opened it, I’d be

giving myself away.

I slipped carefully past the guard and edged down the hallway. The basement door was open. A

few nightlights illuminated small sections of the wall, but the rest of the room was shrouded in

darkness. I descended into the basement. As I passed a light on the stairs, I realized I cast no shadow.

Cloaked as I was, the light of this world passed through me as easily as air. I set my foot on the last

step and it gave a loud groan. It took every ounce of self-restraint not to bolt back up the staircase at

the sound. My heart thudded painfully beneath my ribs, but I forced myself to breathe out slowly.

None of the 50 or so sleeping soldiers stirred.

I eased myself onto the concrete of the basement floor with relief. It was tedious work to move

through the maze of cots toward the back column, taking care to avoid bumping a sleeper and risk

waking him. The farther away I got from the staircase, the darker the room around me became, and the

safer I felt. I had no trouble navigating the darkness, but the human men around me depended on their

sight. They’d be less likely to strike in total darkness, and that thought brought me comfort.

I reached the support column at the back of the room. The closest cot was just 10 feet away. I eyed

the wooden column, suddenly aware that I was facing too many unknowns for comfort. How did the

column swing? Was it on a hinge? Would it creak with movement? I stood there for several long

moments, contemplating my options. But the truth was, I was out of time. This had to happen, and it

had to happen tonight.

I leaned my shoulder against the column and gave it a gentle push. Nothing. It didn’t budge in the

smallest. A rush of panicked adrenaline surged through my body. It took all my effort to calm my

heart, take a deep breath, and think.

In the dream, Lucas had come over to this column first, leaving me behind. He’d done something...

I ran my fingers over the back of the column and found a small carving of a rose. It looked like the

rose from the mission. I pushed it, and heard a faint click as a latch sprang free inside. I pressed my

shoulder against the column again. The bottom edge of the column eased back with a sound almost

like a sigh, revealing a hole in the floor.

A small bronze chest was nestled in the hole, covered in symbols like those decorating the vessel.

Exactly as it had been in Lucas’s dream.

My breath caught in my throat. I lowered myself to the ground, careful not to let the column slip

back to cover the compartment. I reached a hand into the hole and pulled on the top of the chest. It was

locked.

So I took the whole thing.

Chapter 15

Moonlight illuminated the world with a ghostly brilliance. The heavy bronze box dug into my skin as I

ran. I clutched it to my chest like a child, and didn’t stop until I’d locked the front door to my house

behind me. It had felt good to move again. I’d waited, crouched in the hall, for nearly two hours before

the guard on duty stepped away for another break. It had been a simple matter to escape through the

unguarded front door. Much easier than the waiting. Each second of those two hours had been a

torture; all I wanted was to get back home and figure out how to open the box. Until I saw the vessel

with my own eyes, I wouldn’t be able to relax.

Seth was pacing the foyer when I returned, clutching a borrowed robe around his skinny frame.

When he saw the bronze chest in my arms he looked at me curiously.

“It’s locked,” I whispered. Dad was asleep upstairs.

Seth frowned, his dark eyes clouding with worry. He beckoned me back to his room. When I set

the chest down on his bed, something heavy shifted inside. Seth eased the door shut until the lock

clicked. Then he turned to me, face tight with anxiety.

“Now what?” he asked.

“We figure out how to open it.”

We examined the chest for over an hour. The surface was inlaid with an array of different stones

that worked in and around the symbols with an elegant grace. One part of me appreciated the artistry

with which it had been constructed. But most of me was ready to smash it to get at the vessel I could

only hope was inside.

“Forget it,” Seth said when we’d made no progress. “No keyhole, no hinges that I can see.”

“We can’t give up.” My voice was strained, but I’d come too far to turn back now.

“Does your dad have a crow bar?”

“In the garage,” I said, eyeing the ancient chest. As sad as the thought of destroying it made me, I

was right there with Seth. If we couldn’t do it any other way, we had to find a way to force the chest

open.

Seth eyed the chest, then sighed. “Okay. We’ll grab the crow bar on the way out. We should get

over to the mission. It’s going to be dawn soon, and we want to make sure we’re ready when it’s time

to start the ritual.”

I nodded as Seth flipped the light switch off.

“Seth,” I breathed.

A small patch of the inlaid stones seemed to glow in the darkness of his room. Seth stood next to

me, awed. “It must be some kind of phosphorescent mineral or something,” he said.

“But it wasn’t glowing in the basement.”

“You said it was buried in the floor?”

I nodded.

“Phosphorescent stuff needs light to charge it up,” Seth said. “The light in my room must have

given the stones just enough energy to glow.” He looked at me eagerly. “Do you have a bright

flashlight somewhere?”

“Yeah, we keep one in the kitchen.”

“Get it.” Seth looked back at the box, eyes fixed on the faintly gleaming stones.

I returned with the flashlight a minute later. Seth flipped it on and shined the light on the lid of the

chest for a minute or so. When we were done, the glow was stronger, and I could see a pattern.

“The rose,” I murmured. Seth looked at me, confused. I pointed to the surface of the chest. The

tiny, distinctive shape gleamed on one corner of the box; you wouldn’t notice it if the stones weren’t

glowing. “It’s the same as the carving that tour guide showed us in the mission,” I said.

“What carving?” Seth asked. I looked at him, remembering he hadn’t been with us on the field trip

to the mission. He hadn’t seen the secret door, or the rose carving that unlocked it.

“Doesn’t matter,” I said. I ran my fingers over the stones making up the rose. The petals radiated

out from a central stone. I pushed, and the stone depressed into the surface of the chest. The chest’s lid