Tegan's Power (The Ultimate Power Series #4) (16 page)

“You really think
Cristescu is going to be a good ruler?” I ask inquisitively.

“Yeah,” she answers,
her eyes on the crowd below rather than on me. “I do.”

“Hmm, well, I’ll
believe it when I see it.”

“The day is going to
come when you’ll eat your words, Finn Roe,” she says, turning to me now with a
face on her like she knows it all and I let her have the final say. I have more
important things to focus on.

As I watch the mass of
people, I see movement up ahead and I pinpoint Theodore and Rita walking hand
in hand right into the middle of the crowd. They’re dressed all wrong again, in
clothes that belong to a preacher and his daughter, rather than an evil
sorcerer and his newly-turned-evil progeny.

Theodore has a
loudspeaker in his hand and he lifts it to his mouth to address the crowd.

“Thank you all for
coming. Before the day is through we will have purged the vampire infestation
from Tribane for good. Now, to get down to business, I have a number of
instructions. I want you to divide yourselves into four groups. Those standing
to the North and those standing to the East of me will visit the homes on the
North side of the city. Those standing to the South and the West of me will
visit the homes on the South side of the city. Leave no stone unturned. Right
now there are maps being distributed among you with clearly defined markings
for all residential areas. When you discover a house without a chalk circle, do
not knock on any doors or give any signs that you are there. Set fire to the
residence and leave immediately. The vampires will be too deep in slumber to
notice the fire until it is too late.”

I watch as several
individuals move through the throngs, handing out small maps. I recognise one
of them as Marcel and my blood boils. I used to know this man, used to be on
reasonably friendly terms with him, and although I knew he was capable of a
lot, I didn’t think he would be capable of this. This is pseudo-genocide, no
matter what way you want to spin it.

Theodore designates
leaders for each of the four groups, taking charge of the North group for
himself. He and Rita lead the people away from Campion Row, an eerie death by
fire parade.

“We’ll follow Theodore’s
group,” I say pulling my hood up over my head. I can’t risk being recognised.
At the same time Tegan pulls a small cap and Ray Ban sunglasses from her bag
and puts both on. Ira’s already wearing a black beanie. I’m not sure if Allora
will be recognised, but since Michael Ridley is a follower of Theodore’s he
could be around here somewhere. Pulling her up from the step and standing in front
of her, I tuck her long ponytail inside the blue sweatshirt she’s wearing and
pull up her hood.

“Just a precaution,” I
say leaning close to her ear and she nods in silent acquiescence.

When I pull back I
notice Tegan watching us both with one eyebrow raised over her sunglasses and a
smirk pulling at her lips.

“Got something to say?”
I ask her.

“Nope. Nothing to say
at all,” she answers with a cheeky lilt in her voice.

I take Allora’s hand
and together the four of us blend into the crowd. All around me I can hear
stories about Theodore spreading like wildfire. Stories of which not a single
one is true. Each one shows him as some sort of saint-like character. The most
prominent is that he’s a widowed doctor who spends most of his time providing
free medical treatments for the poor. What a crock.

“I don’t doubt it,”
says one woman to her friend as they walk close to me. “I like to think you can
always judge a person from their eyes, and Mr Girard has the kindest eyes I’ve
ever seen.”

I do my best to hold in
a derisive laugh. More like the craziest eyes she’s ever seen.

“He’s done such good
for the city by organising all of this. I think he should be voted in as Mayor
once the vampires are all killed,” says the other woman.

Okay, I can’t contain
my laugh this time. Both women give me brief dirty looks before continuing with
their Theodore Girard panegyric. When we reach the first residential street,
not a single house is without a chalk circle on the door. The people mumble
about it being a good, respectable area, which explains why there are no
vampires living there.

I feel like telling
them that I happen to know for a fact that vamps live in some of the most
respectable areas in the city, but I hold my tongue. We’re on the fourth street
now and still no circle-less homes have been found. A restlessness begins to
takeover and people are getting suspicious. Theodore stands at the forefront of
what I have begun to refer to in my head as the Death March, and informs
everyone not to worry, that they just haven’t reached any vampire homes yet.

On the Death March
goes.

I find it unnerving how
there are actually a large number of human police among those present. They
wear their uniforms and take part in the march without any qualms whatsoever. I
suppose even police get scared about vampires, too.

An hour passes and
still there have been no opportunities for killing. I have this odd feeling
that one man standing a couple of feet away from me is going to start throwing
a fit, when all of a sudden his face loses its agitated expression and a look
of calm overtakes his features.

I turn immediately to
look down at the pretty blonde whose hand is in mine. “Did you do that?” I
whisper to Allora.

She nods. “I could
sense his rage. In situations like this, all it takes is for one person to lose
their cool and before you know it there’s chaos.”

“I don’t doubt that,” I
murmur and we continue to walk.

Tegan tugs on the arm
of my jacket and I turn to her. “What’s going to happen?” she asks urgently.
“At some point Theodore’s going to know that something is up.”

“I think that point has
already arrived,” says Ira in a deep voice and I know it’s serious. Ira chooses
his words wisely; he only ever really speaks when he has something of
importance to say.

I look in the direction
he’s gesturing to see Theodore walking down the centre of the parade of people.
They instantly part for him like the Red Sea and all movement stops.

“I think we have spies
amid our ranks,” he announces as his crazy black gaze inspects each person he
passes, like a Nazi officer trying to sift out Jews. I repeat, how on earth could
those two women mistake such crazy eyes for kind ones? I guess people believe
only what they want to believe.

Rita walks closely
behind Theodore, inspecting people right along with him.

“Somebody has warned
the vampires of our plan,” Theodore says loudly as he continues to walk and my
immediate reaction as he gets closer and closer is, oh
fuck
. “And I have
a feeling that person is among us now.”

Outraged murmurings
drift among the people of the Death March.

“Who is it? Who is it?”
one lunatic woman cries.

I want to take my three
friends and get the hell out of here, but if we move now we might as well be
wearing big signs on our heads that say SPIES. So, all we can do is stand in
our places and hope that Theodore somehow manages to overlook the four people
who have very subtly obscured their faces from view.

When I glance at Tegan
it almost looks as though she’s holding her breath. I feel like I might be
holding mine, too. I’ve been in so many dangerous and fucked up situations in
my time, but this one takes the cake. We’re surrounded by at least a thousand
angry people, if not more, and if Theodore points us out as traitors we’ll probably
be crushed to death by the sheer numbers.

Remind me why I
actually thought it would be a good idea to leave my safe, warm bed this
morning for this shit?

Oh yeah, because I’m an
idiot.

I squeeze Allora’s hand
and tug her closer to me. I can feel her shaking and I can’t tell if it’s
because she’s afraid or if it’s because she’s using her ability to calm the
people around us. When I notice her lip tremble I decide it’s the former. She’s
scared and that only makes me want to protect her more. I let go of her hand to
wrap my arm around her shoulder, rubbing up and down in soothing motions.

A couple of yards ahead
Theodore has stopped in front of a skinny, brown haired man and is looking him
up and down.

“Forgive me for saying
so, but you seem rather nervous, sir,” says Theodore.

The attention of the
crowd zooms in on this man and anticipation rises. They need a scapegoat right
now, someone to channel their outrage on, and this man could be it. Oh shit,
can I actually live with myself if I let them accuse an innocent of betrayal?

“You’re right. I am
nervous. The idea of vampires frightens me,” says the man, his voice a jittery
mess.

Theodore takes a step
closer to him and purses his lips. My eyes are drawn to Rita. She isn’t looking
at the man her father has singled out. Instead she’s scanning the crowd,
inspecting each face one by one. Thankfully, we’re too out of the way for her
to see us yet.

“I apologise,” says
Theodore. “But I must see your neck.”

“M-my neck?” the man
trembles. “Why?”

“Please don’t ask
questions. Show me your neck and I will see your innocence.”

When the man still
doesn’t show Theodore his neck, the sorcerer grabs his collar and pulls it
down. Those standing nearest to the man gasp in surprise and although I’m not
close enough to see, I have a good idea what’s been discovered. Bite marks.
This guy must be a blood donor for some vamp who told him to go along and
observe what’s happening.

“You are the spy,”
Theodore accuses in what I’m assuming is feigned shock and indignation. I have
to admit, he’s putting on a good show for the crowd.

“Please,” the man
cries, tears running down his cheeks. “I was only doing what she asked me to.
She compelled me to tell her of the plans to burn the homes of vampires. I had
no other choice but to do it.”

“We always have a
choice,” says Theodore calmly. “And now you will have to face the judgement of
your peers for what you have done.” He stops and turns to address the crowd.
“What do you all think we should do with him?”

I like to think of
myself as being hard to shock, but I’m taken aback when people begin shouting
suggestions like, “Hang him,” and “Shoot him.” How quickly they’ve all sunk to
the level of savagery. Whoever coined the term, ‘the madness of crowds’ was
spot on, because this is pure insanity.

A battle rages inside
of me. I don’t want to allow this man to be killed. But then if I step up and
do anything to stop it I’ll basically be putting a noose around our necks as
well.

“Shoot him?” Theodore
questions. “Are you sure?”

My gaze is drawn to the
hand that emerges from his pocket. Nobody else is looking but his fingers begin
to move in rapid motions and then something small and dark begins to form in
his hand. It takes me less than a second to realise it’s a gun.

A man behind him gets a
weird glazed look in his eyes as he steps up close to Theodore and Theodore slips
the gun into his hand. Again, nobody else has seen it and something in my gut
tells me that Theodore has spelled this random man into taking the gun from
him. I know why he’s done it, too.

Theodore can’t be the
one to shoot the spy, because that would paint him as a killer in the peoples’
eyes and he wants to be seen as the saint he’s fashioned himself to be.

The man steps in front
of the vamp donor and raises the run to his head. Exclamations of surprise and
shouts of encouragement erupt as the man prepares to kill this guy who’s been
labelled as a spy.

My fingers twitch as I
hold Allora close and I know I only have seconds to decide whether or not I’m
going to stop this.

Fortunately, I don’t
have to act, because someone else does.

Unfortunately, that
person is Tegan.

I’ll Always Fall on My
Own Sword in the End

Tegan

Why am I doing this?

Why the
hell
am
I doing this?

I’m not sure I know the
answer to that. Actually no, that’s not true. It’s partly because I can’t let
this foolish blood donor be killed, partly because I have some screwed up
notion that Rita will see me doing a good deed and remember what it’s like not
to be evil…and partly because I can’t help being a martyr.

“Stop!” I shout, stepping
forward with my hand braced in front of me. Sparks trickle from my palm and I
keep them there, a steady stream of defence.

Theodore’s gaze
immediately darts to me and a grin splits his lips. “Ah, treasure. To what do I
owe the pleasure?” he says, but then a second later I realise he didn’t actually
say it. He spoke the words inside my head while he stands there with a false
look of fear in his eyes as he stares at the magic coming from my hand. Keeping
up appearances, I presume.

Some people see my
sparks and scream in terror, others remain silent and gobsmacked. One person
who doesn’t do either of those things is Rita. She walks through the gap in the
crowd until she’s standing in front of me, her head tilted to the side
curiously as though I’m a stranger she has the odd sense she knows from somewhere.