Plagued: Book 1 (50 page)

Julian nodded.

“What exchange?” Obviously I missed something.

Without taking his eyes from the screen, Julian said only, “Later.”

“But.”

“
Later.
” His tone was brittle as thin ice.

Mrs. Sato's eyes darted from me to Julian and back again before returning to the computer. “A good place for both offense and defense, Mr. Lake.”

Julian pulled out his leather-bound notebook and jotted down the addresses. “Do you have any information on how big the Tokyo cell is and who some of the other members might be? I have seen the main members for Alexandra's initial entrapment, plus some other players. There will be at least twice that many for the lottery and, of course, the Captain.”

I realized I hadn't told Julian about the encounter with the man who came looking for Savan at the bar. After describing the incident, and the man called Governor, Julian looked pleased.

The cat strolled out of the kitchen, tail high. It jumped up onto the table and began walking back and forth in front of the computer voicing a series of high-pitched meows. Turning, it batted at the keyboard with its little front paws.

“That's right.” Mrs. Sato lifted the cat away from the computer, handing the animal across the table to me, nearly knocking over the teacups. “What a clever kitty.”

The tabby gave a small meow of what sounded like agreement. Her little cape had gotten slightly twisted. I straightened the folds and, curling up in my lap, she seemed quite content to lick her paws and purr.

“I have video footage of one of their other intended victims. Vanessa is not there, so I didn't flag it for our meeting. Here, I can show you.”

Julian motioned for me to come closer. Scooting around the table, I dislodged papers and stirred up dust as I went because the cat refused to move from my lap.

It took a few moments until several panels of video footage came up, splitting the screen into four parts. They looked like hotel corridors, elevator in the background, potted plants, identical doors. No, maybe just one corridor. Different days? Hours? Each panel a little different in its grouping of people. There was no sound. Pausing the film, and zooming in on one panel, she laid a fingertip to the head of a man: boyish face, not very tall, maybe five-foot-six, solid build. It was the same man who wouldn't let go of my hand at the Harbor party.

Julian looked at me for confirmation and I nodded.

“Governor Chen. You did well to be cautious, Alexandra. A dangerous man. He is Captain of Morrigan, the Battle Crow Cell. He must have been responsible for bringing the cell again to Tokyo.”

Mrs. Sato zoomed out and tapped the loop back into motion. As if sensing our presence, Chen's face turned to look up at the camera. I swear, his eyes turned black.

Slowing the film to quarter speed, Mrs. Sato moved the pointer over one of the figures as a group emerged from the elevator. “There, that is the prospect.”

I looked at the pointer. My heart started to pound and it was hard to catch my breath. A lovely girl stood there pouting and posing in slow motion, surrounded by a group of young men and women. Their unearthly beauty marked them clearly: soul-sucking members of the Club. The girl in the middle flicked her long golden-red hair over her shoulders and adjusted the little Dior shoulder bag.

Evil had found Amber Lynne McCarthy after all.

Chapter 32

Felony for Beginners

Walking with Julian down the main hall of my school past the nubby sofa and the dark office of still-absent Mrs. McCarthy was the latest in what could only be described as a long list of surreal moments. He insisted on boldly marching in with me through the front doors. I waved at people I knew, smiling my fake smile at my fake friends . People who only liked me because they thought I was the rising star of the Academy social scene and supposedly juggling two boyfriends: a gorgeous Prince Charming – actually an amoral, sociopathic soul sucker – and a glamourous rock star who was not of this earth. Literally. Several girls stopped to chat and ask after the Albert Einsteins, while staring at my companion as I slowly made my way towards the lockers. I heard one of the girls mutter plaintively as she walked away, “Damn it, not
another
hot boyfriend. It's so unfair!”

Julian and I had hatched a plan after our visit to the enigmatic Mrs. Sato. Or perhaps I should say Julian insisted on it and finally forced me to go along.

Holding the addresses of the properties close and the information from Mrs. Sato closer, we eventually bowed ourselves out of the dusty, dilapidated little house. I looked up briefly from my bow as the wooden door clattered shut on its rusty trestle. For a split second, through the narrow slit, I saw not an old raisin but a beautiful young woman. Her hair hung down to her waist in a shiny black cascade. The cat at her feet looked at me and meowed. The woman winked. Then the door shut and Julian was tugging at my arm, urging me to hurry along.

I had obviously underestimated Mrs. Sato very much indeed.

On the train ride back towards my own corner of the massive city, Julian and I talked out plans for trapping Vanessa. Maybe 'argued' would describe it better. We did not agree on the methods. Julian planned to leave a spell-cast message for the Club on the doors of the hotel we saw the security footage from as well as the properties Vanessa owned. They would outline our demands for the return of the hostage. That was what Mrs. Sato meant by 'exchange' apparently. It was the hostage part I objected to.

“Amber Lynne? You can't just kidnap her. She's a person, not a pawn,” I argued as we sat on the worn seats of the half-empty carriage. Outside the train windows, the drab colors of suburban, working-class Tokyo flashed by between stations. “She's a selfish, nasty human being but human, just like me.”

“
Shh,
keep your voice down.” Julian glanced uneasily around the train car, eyes narrowed. I knew he was using far more than human sight to check for eavesdroppers. A few high school students in navy and white uniforms crowded in little chattering groups at one end of the car, bent over their cell phones. Several office workers were nodding off in the corner seats and a couple of mother's struggled with keeping babies, shopping, strollers and children in order. Other than that, we had the train car to ourselves. Most people were heading in the opposite direction on the return journey of the daily public transportation grind.

“She is not like you at all and we desperately need a bargaining chip fast to flush out the other winners of the lottery for your soul. The Club has invested much time and money bringing her to this point. As I told you, even in a city of millions, only a tiny handful of souls are compatible after
years
of time and effort.”

“How did you know about her? Or were you just waiting to grab anyone?”

“I have been watching the cell for several months. That's how I found you and that Amber girl as well.”

As the train bumped along, I said “no,” he said “yes,” I said “no” some more until he pointed out how very little wriggle room there remained under the circumstances. The subject of how long I actually had as the Club reeled in my soul had been delicately avoided by me. I was trying not to think about it, like an appointment for dental surgery. Caroline lasted six months. A little longer than a semester. That wasn't very long at all.

“Governor will give us the information we seek and we will give Amber back.”

“We won't, right? Give her back, I mean, we're just saying that.”

He put his hands on my shoulders. “We will try to do the right thing.”

Shrugging them off, I said firmly, “We
will
do the right thing.”

Julian stood as we pulled into an unfamiliar station. “Come on.”

“I thought I was going home.”

“Not yet, we need to find a demon.”

And now here I was in the halls of ITA, without the demon, thankfully, but in the company of the no less startling form of the silver-haired, slightly luminous Julian Lake.

“They're not seeing me as you do. Don't worry.”

I jumped a little as he read me so clearly. “Do you have to do that?”

“What?”

“Read my mind.”

“Can I help it if you Americans are so transparent?”

I was going to kick him, then saw the laugh lurking in his eyes. He seldom laughed except in his cold-hearted way that was the opposite of humorous.

I elbowed him instead and he smiled, actually smiled.

“Okay, so explain why they can't see you as I do.”

He tapped a spot above my heart. “That is my mark on you.” His eyes flicked away from my face to stare at some point above my head, and his voice went very quiet. “I gave you a part of myself. To keep you safe. A little safer. From them. The tradeoff is, I can't hide my true form around you.”

“You put that tattoo there?”

“To protect you; don't jump down my throat!”

“Speaking of throats. That first time in the techno club, what was the red star mark? It could only have been you that put it there. You said something about it when I woke up at your place; that morning is a little hazy...”

“A sigil. The mark helped me keep track of you. I also hoped to break down some of the
glamour
the Club had drawn over themselves. Perhaps help you see through to the evil beneath the glitter. It didn't work, obviously. I underestimated the hold Savan already had. Perhaps you were extremely open to their magic or they were just working extra hard. Given the strength of your soul and thus its desirability, I suspect the latter.”

“It burned like crazy.”

“Sorry.”

“So you can't hide from me?”

“Just in shadow, not in appearance like I can with others.”

'Was that a good thing or a bad thing?
' I thought to myself, surprised at this revelation.

He said nothing else until we paused at the door to homeroom. Amber Lynne and I shared that one class. Now came the tricky part. He couldn't just swoop in, scoop up Amber Lynne and run off with her kicking and screaming under one arm. Although he actually put that forward as a proposal. Vetoing it right off, I insisted the swooping had to be carried out
quietly.

Snatching her from a crowded hallway was out of the question. We needed to get Amber out of class and for that we had to have a 'From the desk of...' memo to hand to a teacher. Mrs. McCarthy's post was still being filled by the Assistant Principal. He continued to use his own office further down the hall. Since he only left his desk to patrol the halls and chastise students and always locked his office, I thought we had a better chance of grabbing an official memo from the Registrar. I'd spent a lot of time sitting on the nubby couch outside her office with nothing to do but watch. She was a coffee hound and got up constantly to refill her cup from the main administration office coffee pot just a few steps away through the open arch.

Albert insisted on participating in the kidnapping with his usual enthusiasm. For such a famous person he seemed to have rather a lot of free time and I told him so on the drive from town in the van he borrowed from local Einstein concert roadies.

“Actually I've been back and forth to London since I saw you last, Miss Carpenter. Accomplishing a total of seventeen radio and TV interviews with a couple of magazine shoots thrown in as well.” He struck a pose, giving me a very professional and perfect smile. “I have written five new songs with Kim and next week the band is off for several late-night live appearances on American TV and some hideously early morning news things in Times Square, I think. Seeing how people who spend most of their nights not entirely sober are among the main buyers of Albert Einstein albums, I can't think any of them will be up and/or sober enough to actually
watch
those shows. However, my manager insists. We start our next European tour in August. Right now, my dear,” his tail snaked out to wrap itself around my waist, “I am
all
yours.”

“Stop talking rubbish and drive.” Julian gave Albert's tail a sharp yank as he pulled it off me and that was the end of that conversation.

Albert was waiting in the van now for Julian's signal that the game was afoot. Julian left me at the door to homeroom, nodding significantly and patting the cell phone in his front pocket. He would call when he had her. Walking into the classroom and squeezing between the rows of tightly packed desks, Amber Lynne contrived to trip me just enough so that my books fell to the floor in a heap.

“Oops,” she laughed, looking around for approval.

One of the boys, Liam, stood and helped me gather up my things, saying to Amber, “God, McCarthy, you are such a bitch.”

Amber flushed. “How dare you!”

One of girls I didn't even know rolled her eyes. “Oh shut up, he's so right, you
are
a bitch. Nobody really likes you. Nobody ever did.”

The Awesome Posse leader looked like she wanted to strangle me right then and there. Mercifully for my sake, the teacher came in and demanded quiet.

Two hours later, the call came and Julian's hushed voice told me where to meet on the second floor. Now here we were: Albert, Julian, Amber – bound and gagged – and me. Grasping one half of the struggling Amber, who was wriggling for all she was worth plus making very loud squealing noises despite the duct tape across her formerly glossy lips. Julian was cautiously trying to negotiate the stairs down to the ground floor. Albert, bringing up the rear – literally – was not having an easy time of it either. The stairs required some quick maneuvering that pushed Albert in front, walking backwards and staring over his shoulder to keep from falling. We were dangerously near the administration offices, not the ideal place to carry out a kidnapping. Several yards of open space remained between the stairwell and the stairs leading down to one of the emergency exits. Amber Lynne was kicking so furiously, one shoe flew right off. It went skidding across the slick blue-gray linoleum coming to a stop out in the open. Albert struggled to get a firmer grasp on Amber's feet, now with only one shoe. Like Cinderella, I thought a little hysterically. Unfortunately for her, the Awesome Posse leader was in the process of being transported not to a pumpkin carriage but a plain white van to be driven by a half-Daemon rock star.

I heard the
clip, clop
of heels on the floor. “Someone's coming.” Peeking around the corner, I saw Mrs. Gonzales, my guidance counselor, striding purposefully in our direction with several other teachers and told the boys so.

“Bloody hell!” snarled Julian through gritted teeth.

Maybe she hadn't seen me.

“Alexandra!”

Crap.

The other teachers took a different turning. Mrs. Gonzales stood her ground. “I see you there, young lady.”

“Stall her!” Albert hissed.

“
Awk!
” Albert groaned.

Dashing into the corridor in a power dive, I scooped up Amber's shoe. There was no place to hide it except behind my back.

“I've left several messages on your phone at home. What a lucky circumstance.”

'
Not for me,
' I thought.

“We need to talk, Alexandra.”

“Now is not really convenient,” I said with only the slightest note of panic in my voice.

“I think it had better be now. This can't wait, you are running out of time.”

“Don't I know it!”

I needed her to face me and away from the corridor Julian and Albert had to cross. Edging sideways, like a crab, I got her nearly turned around before she moved to stand directly in my path, hands on her hips, lips compressed in a tight line.

“Would you stand
still,
please!”

Unless I physically pushed her aside, this was the best I could do for the guys.

I kept glancing frantically from her face to the hall behind.

“What are you staring at?” She craned her neck to look behind her, barely missing Julian and Albert who scrambled like mad to scoot back into hiding.

“Nothing,” my voice came out in a high pitched squeak. I cleared my throat. “I mean,
um
, nothing.”

“There are less than two weeks of school left, finals are Monday and honestly, I don't see how you can matriculate to twelfth grade given your lack of effort this semester. I've reviewed your grades at your other schools and you consistently maintained a three-point-five average. Here, I don't even think you
qualify
for a grade point average since you so seldom attend class anymore.”