Madly and Wolfhardt (20 page)

I was so happy to see him, I couldn’t dig up even one ounce of ire at his tone and audacity.

“Actually, I was looking for you,” I answered quietly, my melty bones and twittering stomach already feeling the effects of his closeness.

The world around me faded into the background as all my senses tuned in to Jackson—his smell, the heat rolling off his body, the way his eyes sparkled in the sun, the way I had to fight the urge to lean into him, to touch him.

Jackson’s scowl deepened.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.  I just thought…I thought maybe…”

“You thought what?”

I felt blood rush to my cheeks.

“I thought maybe you’d gone to have someone else assigned to me.”

A look of confusion crossed Jackson’s face.

“Why would you think that?”

I shrugged, looking anywhere but at Jackson.

“Why were you looking for me?” he asked, his voice much softer.

“I was just wondering if you’d come up with a plan for tonight.”

“Actually, I’ve been at Transport all morning in meetings with Commander Jessup and a couple members of High Council.”

“What are they saying?”

“Well,” he said, exhaling and looking over the top of my head to stare out across campus.  “There are a lot of things to consider.  It’s of utmost importance that we recapture Wolfhardt as quickly as possible.  Obviously,” he said, looking back down at me.  “But there are also safety concerns, which is where I come in.”

“What do they think we should do?”

Jackson looked uncomfortable with the question.  When he answered, I understood why.

“Some think it would be best for you to be in the woods tonight.  I disagree.”

“What did they say?”

“Some of the High Council members believe that our best chance of recapturing Wolfhardt is to have you in the woods where you can have physical contact with him once he’s turned, which is the only time the pearl will work—when he’s fully in possession of the body.”

“And the others?”

“Others, like me for instance, believe it would be just as effective for the Sentinels to capture Wolfhardt and subdue him and
then
let you use the pearl to imprison his spirit.”

“There are a couple of problems with that, though.  One, someone could get hurt, bitten even, and we don’t know how badly that could turn out yet.  Two, it adds an extra step, a step that would give Wolfhardt an opportunity to escape our custody again.”

“But that way, risk to your safety would be significantly reduced.”

“And who would be heading up the team of Sentinels sent to capture Wolfhardt?”

“Me,” he said flatly.

My heart stuttered to a stop before it started back up again at a faster rate.

“Absolutely not!” I declared, shaking my head.

“All due respect, Princess, it’s not your call.”

“And why not?  Am I not the only one who can imprison Wolfhardt?  Am I not the one person crucial to the success of liberating Atlas?”

Jackson’s lips tightened.

“Yes, but—”

“No buts.  I will not have you endangering yourself on my behalf.”

“That’s my job, Princess.”

“In this case, it’s not.  It’s my job to imprison Wolfhardt and being in the woods is the best way to accomplish that.  Why would you even suggest otherwise?”

“Because your security is my responsibility.”

“But above even my safety is the wellbeing of Atlas.  It’s a risk you have to be willing to take.”

“No, it’s not.”

“It has to be.  I’m the only one who can do this.  Our most important goal is to save Atlas, even if it means risking me.”

“No, I will not—”

“You will!”

“Princess, I—”

“Sentinel Hamilton, I’m not giving you a choice.  You will do—”

Jackson’s hands flashed out like bolts of lightning and gripped my arms.

“I will not put you in harm’s way.  Can’t you understand that?”

“I understand that you put your job above everything else.  What I don’t understand is why you can’t see that this
is
for the greater good.  It has to be done this way.  I’m sorry, Jackson, but there’s nothing you can say to change my mind.”

With that, I shouldered my way past him and walked stiffly back to school, heading straight for my next class.  I needed to find something to lose myself in—quickly—and even though school wasn’t ideal, I could make it work.  I had to.  I’d go crazy if I sat around thinking about what was to come.  About Kellina and Wolfhardt.  About Aidan and Atlas.  And about Jackson.  Always about Jackson. 

As I reached for the door to Building C and yanked it open, I stole a glance over my shoulder.  Jackson was standing exactly where I’d left him, only turned slightly to watch me.  Though he was too far away now for me to see his eyes clearly, I knew they were on me.  I could feel them, fiery with anger and a hint of something else.

Like the flash of a camera, the image of Jackson’s perfection was imprinted on my mind, etched in my memory—his tall frame with its wide shoulders and trim waist, his smooth bronzy skin and shiny black hair, his square jaw and chiseled mouth.  My stomach fluttered just looking at him.  To me, he was the most amazingly handsome man I’d ever seen.  But it was more than that.

Something just beneath the surface called to me, something beneath the surliness, beneath the hard warrior shell.  Just as he had since I’d first seen him again, Jackson drew me in—the flame that I couldn’t resist, couldn’t forget, the flame that threatened to consume me.

The bell rang, assuring me that I was going to be late for class.  I turned to walk through the door and when I looked back over my shoulder again, Jackson was gone.

I had the whole rest of the day to put every ounce of my energy into class, into
not
thinking about anything else.  And for the most part, it worked.  Each time my mind would wander off toward a taboo subject, I would ruthlessly pull it back to the present, to whatever redundant material I was committed to learning.

By the time the last bell chimed, I was an anxious mess.  I stood on the top step of Building A, debating the best course of action.  Knowing Jackson, I didn’t put it past him to completely ignore my wishes and do what he thought was best regardless.  In that case, I had but one option: go to Transport and talk to his superiors myself.

Figuring that Jackson would have eyes on me somewhere, I ducked back into the building and went up two flights of stairs and down the hall to a breezeway that connected Building C and the Athletics Hall.  Once there, I crept out the back door and behind the cafeteria then shot quickly across the west side of campus and headed toward Transport.  I didn’t want Jackson stopping me from having a say in how this would all go down.  He might not put his safety first, but I certainly did.

When I reached the brick building that housed Transport, I walked inside and punched the elevator button.  It arrived a few seconds later, its doors opening with a muted
ding.

The sound was enough like Jersey’s bell to make me think of her.  I hadn’t told her of my after school plans.  I hadn’t even thought of them until a few minutes ago.  I knew she’d be worried when she couldn’t find me.  It was insensitive of me, but I really had very little choice.  With a sigh, I knew I’d have to listen to a lot of bell-ringing later to make up for it.

When the elevator doors slid open to reveal the innards of Transport, I pulled up short as I was stepping off.  Standing directly in front of me was Jackson.  He was leaning up against a bank of computers, arms and ankles crossed, just watching the elevator.  He’d known what I would do.

Jacking my chin up a notch, I marched off the elevator and stopped a couple feet in front of his imposing figure.

“Where’s Commander Jessup?”

Jackson said nothing, merely nodded his head to the right.  I looked in that direction and, sure enough, standing in the open doorway of a huge conference room was Commander Jessup.  His back was ramrod straight and his face was serious as a heart attack.  Behind him, seated around a large table, I could see several ghostly figures.  The High Council.

Slowly, I walked over to Commander Jessup.  Somewhere behind me, I could hear the soft pad of Jackson’s boots as he followed.  When I reached the leathery-skinned commander, he nodded curtly and swept his arm in front of him, motioning me into the conference room.

I stepped through the door and stopped.  Within seconds, I could feel Jackson at my back.  I didn’t need to turn to know it was him rather than Jessup.  I felt his comforting presence like a warm blanket on a cool winter night.

The door shut behind me with a soft snap and Commander Jessup squeezed past me to round the table.  As he passed two empty chairs, he pulled one out.

“Please, Princess, sit.”

I looked around the table at all the spectral faces and immediately regretted my hasty decision.  Nevertheless, I’d come too far to back down now, so I moved to the vacant seat Jessup held and I slid quietly into it.  Jessup moved on to a place near the head of the table.

“Sentinel Hamilton,” Jessup said, nodding at the chair beside me.

Jackson pulled out the chair beside me and sat.  His large, looming presence helped to still my chattering nerves somewhat, but the intimidation factor of the High Council was still through the roof.

I darted a quick glance at Jackson.  He looked irritatingly unaffected.

“Welcome, Princess,” one of the Council members said.

It was hard to tell which member had spoken.  The voice was cool, quiet, and low—monotone, but with a decidedly masculine timbre.  That helped me very little, however, since there were exactly six men and six women that comprised the High Council.

“Thank you,” I said, smiling as I scanned each face around the table. 

The High Councilors looked very little like what I’d expected.  As the twelve children of Neptune and his angelic wife, Salacia, the members of the High Council were the first Mer, the first of the royal line.  The bloodline of every royal in existence could be traced directly back to one of them.  To this day, royals were similar to them in many ways, though they were the only true immortals of our kind.

Their features were the purest exaggeration of today’s Mer royalty.  It was mating with humans that caused the colorful aberrations that resulted in non-royal Mer.

Each of the twelve had long, straight silver-white hair, nearly-translucent onion-peel skin, washed out powder blue eyes and reed-thin frames.  Their cool bodies could be felt in the chill air that filled the room and their blood flowed in silver streaks through veins visible beneath their skin, unlike today’s Mer whose blood ran red until it met oxygen.

All twelve pairs of eyes were sharply focused on me with a detached ambivalence that made me quite uneasy.  It was at that point that I realized why Jackson was so staunchly supporting my safety above all else.  He knew, as I now knew, that any of these twelve men and women would sacrifice me in a second to save Atlas.

Glancing back up at Jackson, I was thankful for his stubbornness, but also curious about it.  I couldn’t help but wonder if it was only for the sake of his all-consuming work ethic that he would defy these powerful creatures or if there was another reason.