Iron Inheritance (9 page)

“Come on. Let’s get you to the infirmary,” said Nate, grabbing Josh’s arm.

Josh twisted out of it and inhaled calmly. “My orders are to report to Morales first when I arrive. That’s where you’re headed, so I’ll go with you.”

“Even though you’re about to fall over?” I said.

“With Denisov, everything’s a test—even this. If I don’t do exactly as I was ordered, I could be kicked out tomorrow. There aren’t many people allowed to stay on a third year.” Josh set his jaw and marched forward, drawing strength from somewhere deep within.

“Morales will be in her office.” Nate passed us and pulled open a brown door like all the others.

“Come around here often, do you?” Ria raised her eyebrows and went through the door.

The hallway walls matched the outside’s smooth white plaster. Even more brown wood doors peppered them every few feet, green landscape paintings hanging between each. A faint sound of two people in a heated debate echoed across the tile floor.

“These are the faculty offices.” Nate led us to the end of the hall and rapped his knuckles on the last door.

Two heightened voices silenced themselves immediately. The higher pitched of the two said, “Come” before Nate had even lowered his hand to his side.

He twisted the knob, and we stepped into an oddly angled office with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves towering over an ornate desk and a wingback chair. To the side, a slender woman with brown hair, a long neck, and oval glasses tethered to a gold chain greeted us with a thin-lipped smile. Beside her, a harsh, sculpted woman with short gray hair and a black tank top stood with her arms crossed and her eyes narrowed like a hawk’s.

“Nathaniel Warder? How long has it been?” The more slender of the two inclined her head politely with a forced smile still stretched across her lips.

“Dean Morales.” Nate bowed. “This is Ria Merced.” He extended his hand toward Ria. “Josh…”

“Spaulding.” Josh nodded, standing at attention the best he could as his cheeks turned paper white.

“And Evelyn Brooks,” Nate finished.

Morales’ eyebrows disappeared into her prominent bangs, her head tilting very slightly to the woman on her left. “We’ll continue our discussion later, Denisov. Thank you for your time.”

I glanced back at Josh to confirm that’s who he was trying to impress.

He didn’t meet my eyes.

Denisov uncrossed her arms and turned her narrowed eyes into a scowl. Without one word or a second glance at any of us, she marched out the door.

Josh remained at attention even after she left.

“Now, please explain.” Morales smiled at Nate with a warmth that didn’t reach her eyes.

“I have been a Guardian over Solomon Brooks and his granddaughter for the past eighteen years.”

She nodded with pursed lips, set her chin in her hand, and said, “What’s happened?” Her eyes focused on me without really seeing me and then turned to Nate.

Nate hesitated, forming his words carefully. “We were attacked by a Babylonian, possibly Kovac.”

“Definitely Kovac,” Josh cut in, still staring straight ahead.

I looked sideways at Nate. How could he think it wasn’t Kovac? We saw him, heard him speak.

“For how powerful it was, it could have been a demon that—” Nate began.

“There are demons, too?” asked Ria, halfway between horrified and thrilled.

Morales silenced Ria with a quick look and nodded for Nate to continue.

“Though we took precautions to shield all of Ms. Brooks’ essence, it appears that Kovac was able to track her after she was involved in an altercation.”

“Where did this take place?” Morales’ gold glasses swung on their chain as she turned and surveyed a shelf of books behind her.

“Las Vegas.”

She nodded without looking back at us. “Such a dark place would, in theory, shield her and Solomon. Very clever.” The corner of her mouth pinched wryly, only half of her face visible.

Nate nodded. “I was knocked unconscious, and Solomon sacrificed himself for Evelyn. There is little trace of either Solomon or the attacker left.”

Morales ran her hand across the spines of her books like the keys of a piano. “I’m very sorry to hear that,” she said hollowly, her mind elsewhere. “Please, sit.”

Ria and Nate sat down, and I started pacing in front of Josh as he leaned against a side table, sweat dripping down his forehead.

Something about this place, this woman, wasn’t right. How could she help us? Why would Grandpa have wanted us to come to a Patron headquarters in the first place? What could they offer that I couldn’t get on my own?

I looked back at Josh momentarily.

Why was he so hell-bent on impressing her?

Morales’ hand hovered for a moment over a thick red volume with a peeling spine before she turned back toward us with her eyes closed, hand still perched next to the book. “You’re sure it was a sacrifice?”

Nate nodded. “Ms. Brooks saw a blinding white light, and then both Solomon and the attacker were gone.”

Morales stood still for another moment, her gaze swiveling across each person in the room. When she ran out of people, she took her hand down without pulling the book. “I would expect nothing less from the great Solomon,” she said finally, a slight edge in her voice. “I am sorry you had to find out about us this way, Evelyn. When your grandfather left us, he took more from Patron society than we knew. It was said that you’d died with your mother.” She paused to allow me to speak.

My mouth hung open. Of course she knew about my mom. Of course my mom was a Patron—a Graced. The photographs of her I’d memorized as a kid suddenly took on new meaning. Even they were hiding something. How many other things, how many other people in my life were going to do that?

“We searched but were never able to find you, obviously.” Morales continued. “Still, you’re here now, and Solomon has achieved a great triumph in his sacrifice—a feat not attained since World War II, if I am not mistaken. He will be remembered, and whatever or whoever attacked you is gone now. I will schedule a ceremony for some time in July when more people who knew him personally can attend.” She whipped her hand back at a second’s thought and pulled the red book down, letting it plop open on her desk.

“Dean, forgive me,” said Nate, every word as crisp and polite as he could make it. “But I don’t think this is over. Killing a Babylonian leader, if that’s what he really was, is going to launch us into a war like you haven’t—”

“Us?” Morales straightened to her full height, and I suddenly understood the true divide between Patrons and Guardians. “For now, we will observe. If Kovac was indeed behind this attack and has been killed, we will hear of it soon. I will organize a team to discern who is set to take his place.” She looked down at the book and flicked through several pages in rapid succession with her index finger, her eyes moving side to side like she was absorbing every word on every page.

“We have maintained peace with the Babylonians for this long. I will not be the one to upset the balance.” She spoke each word with an academic precision that pronounced death just as flatly as the black letters on the white pages.

“You expect us to just sit around and wait for you to figure out what’s going on?” I said, my mouth voicing the knot in my chest that tightened the longer I stayed in this room. “To find the people responsible for murdering my grandpa?”

I had to do something. Even if Kovac was really dead, he was part of the Babylonians, and Nate had said the Babylonians hated Grandpa. There had to be more people behind this.

Josh swayed next to me, his eyelids drooping.

Morales put her glasses back on and looked at me with pursed lips. “The person responsible is already dead. Sacrifice ensures that,” she said crisply. “Justice has been done, and the balance has been maintained for now—a life for a life. You will come to learn that this is a very delicate system—the scales of good and evil. The Graced are responsible for keeping the balance. If the Babylonians are reaching for more power and influence, we will soon know and be able to take an appropriate countermeasure.”

I chewed on my tongue and narrowed my eyes. Did these people really think like this? Like life was some feng shui, yin yang crap? I didn’t have to wait for the Babylonians to make their next move. They’d made their move already. They’d killed my grandpa, they’d killed my mom.

I shook my head, and Nate’s eyes pleaded with me to keep it in, just to hold it all back for now.

No. Now it was my turn to make them pay. I clenched my fists and stared straight through Morales.

Until Josh grunted and hit the ground, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

I woke in a cold sweat, my eyes wide to darkness. After we’d carted Josh off to the infirmary, Ria and I had been set up in the girls’ dormitory on the second floor. It was small, clean, and outdated. Two steel-framed beds on opposite sides of a beige room. Heavy wood desks between them. A single window in the middle.

My eyes adjusted to the darkness, and I found a faint ring of gold that framed the edges of the curtain over the window. The sun was making a valiant attempt to get in, but to no avail.

I blinked several more times and tried to remember my last thought—the one that had finally sent me to what was little more than a nap. Something about Grandpa? My mom?

I massaged the silver wing of my necklace and listened to Ria breathe in and out slowly. It was so steady, peaceful.

My mind was the opposite.

My mom hadn’t died because of me, because I was born.

She’d been murdered.

By the same man who’d murdered Grandpa.

Who lied to you all your life about everything.

And not just the big stuff.

There were the crazy swords and whips of essence.

And Nate.

He was the only one I could be angry at now because he’d lied…

And he wasn’t dead. He’d watched over me my whole life even though I’d only known him for four years. All the time in the world for him to tell me the truth, the fact that if I lost control of my emotions and almost beat some sleazy guy to death, Babylonians would see my essence and come running.

Or flying or whatever Kovac had done with that black beehive of tar floating around him.

I clenched the sheets between my fingers and balled my hands into fists. My heart thudded in the side of my throat, and the darkness ceased to press in on me anymore.

Kovac’s game show smile flashed through my mind with a bolt of black electricity trailing behind. He was the reason for all of this.

My fists lost their tension in an instant. Now that he was dead, I couldn’t do a thing. No punching him until my knuckles bruised, no making him pay for everything he’d ever done to my family and everyone else’s…no justice.

“You grind your teeth loud enough to wake the dead.” Ria flicked on the lamp next to her bed and flooded the room with light.

I tightened my jaw and clamped my eyelids shut to keep the light out. They’d grown so used to the darkness.

“Sorry, bad joke.” Ria crept over to my bed. “How are you doing?”

“Fine.” I opened my eyes and glanced at her. Her hair was knotted, and purple half-moons rested under her eyes. Even so, she had a certain glamour to her.

She nudged me aside and lay down, eyes to the ceiling. “Remember the last time we went camping with Grampy? All the stars?”

My muscles relaxed as I remembered the twinkling lights. “You hated it.” I laughed, pushing back tears.

Ria bumped my shoulder. “Not always. It was just the food, the sand, the sweat, the blankets, and the chairs.”

“Was that all?”

“I did like riding the horses though…and the stars,” she said, like she wanted to relive the moment. “Grandpa would sit us down and make us be still. I never wanted to be still—still don’t. But then we saw a shooting star. Do you remember that?”

I nodded. “Your shriek scared a coyote sniffing around our tent. It yelped like you’d kicked it, and Grandpa fell back in his chair.” I smiled.

“And his hat rolled into the fire.” Ria giggled, then stopped, her shoulders sinking into the mattress. “I don’t think he ever forgave me for that—burning his hat.”

I sighed and squeezed her hand. “Of course he did.”

“Look at me.” She wiped her eyes. “It’s definitely still your turn to cry right now. I’m supposed to be the strong one. Here’s my shoulder.” She nudged her shoulder into my chin. “Just know that it’s going to be my turn very soon.”

I smiled and blinked away stray tears. I couldn’t think about this right now, couldn’t break down again. I needed to get up and do something.

I reached around the side of my bed and fished the go-bag out from under it. “I’m going to take a shower and then see how Josh is doing.”

“Whoa, whoa.” Ria sat up. “You’ll definitely need some back up for that.” She paused, and then added, “The interrogation, not the shower, you dirty girl.”

I reached back around and smacked her with my pillow.

She was unfazed, already bounding across the room and rifling through her bag. “I’ll play the flirty cop.”

“Like that worked so well last time.” I raised my eyebrows.

“Last time doesn’t count. How was I supposed to know he was a Chippendale?”

“The bow tie, the muscles, the fact that we lived in Vegas?”

“And he still wouldn’t tell me what he put in that cheese dip.”

She followed me down the empty hallway and into the outdated bathroom. It was one long rectangle sectioned off with walls of white and purple tile between a row of toilets and a row of showers. On the opposite side, purple sinks curved like seashells sat on porcelain pedestals in front of the mirrors.

“Retro,” Ria snickered.

I crossed the tile floor and turned on the water in the closest shower.

“Yes! An eyelash curler.” Ria held up her trophy she’d found lying on one of the sinks. She whipped her head around so her hair grew two sizes in volume before she looked into the mirror and started primping.

“That always hurts when I do it.” I massaged my neck

“No pain, no seduce-ang.” She snapped her fingers back and forth sassily.

I managed the biggest eye roll of my life before stepping into the shower.