The Veil (20 page)

The “mysterious bad feeling” story started to sound monstrously lame to me too—but I was committed now, and I couldn’t see any option other than sticking to it. It’s not like I could hand the police another suspect—the tall, shaggy-haired man had been the real culprit here, but obviously I wasn’t about to bring him up.

A third police officer came in on the heels of Officer Salt and Pepper–Hair. As I started in on yet another rendition of my story, and my third cup of police-station coffee, I suddenly got very nervous.

They couldn’t actually charge me with some sort of crime, could they? In order to prove I’d started the fire on purpose—or, even more troubling, to prove I’d tried to kill Olivia—they’d have to show I loaded the flare into the gun, wouldn’t they? And even though my fingerprints would almost certainly be all over the gun (as would Olivia’s and Casey’s), I’d never touched any of the flare
cartridges. As far as I knew, the strange-looking Annorasi man was the only one who had. I wondered if he was even capable of leaving fingerprints behind—although, if he was, they certainly weren’t going to be any that Novato’s finest had on file.

All of the coffee made me jittery, as well as a little curious as to where the bathroom was and whether I would be allowed to use it.

The bathroom issue had just started to take precedence over everything else when I heard a familiar voice outside of the door. I bit back a smile and a sigh of relief as the voice proceeded to flatten the police officer in the hallway.

“I understand you perfectly. You have not arrested her. You are merely questioning her. Am I correct?”

“Yes, but—”

“And she’s told you what happened? She’s answered all of your questions?”

“Yes, but—”

“And that means she’s now free to go whenever she wishes, does it not?”

“Well—”

“
Well
, nothing, young man. You will release my granddaughter this instant. And for heaven’s sake, stop fidgeting.”

Gran’s face appeared in the door’s small window, and she gestured for me to come out into the hall. I got up from my chair and poked my head out of the door, unsure whether this was allowed. The only policeman in sight was young Officer Goatee, and he made no move to keep me inside the room. In fact, he appeared rather absorbed in remembering not to fidget.

As I closed the door of the room behind me, Gran’s head snapped up. She peered suspiciously at the door next to mine.

“What’s that?” she demanded.

“What?” Officer Goatee threw me a nervous glance, clearly trying to determine whether he could count on my help against the formidable old woman who stood beside me. I shrugged and spread
my hands, trying not to smile as he began to fidget again.

“That noise,” Gran narrowed her eyes at him. “It sounds like crying.”

“Oh, it’s another one of the young ladies from the high school.”

Gran waved him off. “I’ll take her too,” she said, pointing in the direction of the room in much the same way she might have selected a ripe melon from a farmer’s market. The room could only be housing a still-blithering Casey.

Moments later, Gran and I strolled out of the front doors of the Novato Police Department. Casey stumbled out behind us with her parents—she’d actually managed to stop crying during the brief walk from the interrogation room to the lobby but began sobbing anew when she saw her parents waiting for her. The three of them shuffled off toward a waiting Volvo, and Casey’s dad gave Gran an appreciative wave as they drove off.

Of everyone from the school who had been brought in for questioning, Casey and I had been held the longest; according to Officer Goatee, everyone else had been released hours ago.

Luc waited for us in the parking lot. He looked troubled and wary, just as he had since the fire started.

Gran gave him the same narrow-eyed stare she’d used on Officer Goatee. “Young man, I’d say you have some explaining to do.”

“Yes,” Luc agreed briskly. “We must talk, but first we have to get somewhere safe. We can take my car—”

Gran stopped him by holding up her hand. “First, I need to check on my boys.” She hurried over to the Oldsmobile. The pointy-eared silhouette of a cat’s head appeared in the driver’s side window, and I could see several other small shapes moving around inside. Apparently, Gran had brought backup to the police station.

I turned to Luc. “Why aren’t we safe here?”

He didn’t answer; instead, he took my arm and led me toward his black Honda, parked right next to the Oldsmobile.

His silence alarmed me, and I looked nervously over my shoulder. It had to have been some ungodly hour of early Saturday
morning, but it was still almost pitch-black outside. The parking lot was well lit, but the blackness beyond the lights seemed filled with all sorts of hidden dangers. Like the Others.

“Why would that man want to kill Olivia?” I pressed him.

Still rushing me toward his car, Luc answered crisply; “I don’t think that’s what he was trying to do.”

“You didn’t see him. Luc, why didn’t you see him?”

Luc hesitated, and his smooth stride skipped a beat, as though he had missed a step. Luc never missed a step. “I told you, I was looking at you.”

“Yes, but
why
were you looking at me?”

We had reached his car; he led me over to the passenger side.

“I’m your Guardian—it’s my
job
to make sure you are always safe.” He opened the door and nudged me toward it.

I resisted, bracing myself against the doorframe and turning to face him. “Exactly. Your job is to watch the things around me—not to watch me. Why were you watching me tonight, Luc?”

Luc drew in a deep breath, but before he could open his mouth to reply, a giant black Range Rover pulled up out of nowhere and came to a squealing halt, just inches from Luc’s open car door.

The passenger-side window rolled down, and a man with eyes a shade of green startlingly close to Luc’s leaned over from the driver’s seat. “They know. Get in.”

——

W
ITHOUT A WORD
, Luc closed his car door and opened the door of the Range Rover, ushering me into the backseat. I scooted over automatically to make room for him, and the driver stepped down hard on the accelerator almost before Luc managed to shut the door behind him.

“Gran—” I started, twisting to get a look out of the rear window. Turning was awkward; as the car accelerated forward, I had to grip the door handle with all of my strength just to keep from flying into the front seat.

“Edith is following us,” the man in the front seat assured me. He was right; the Oldsmobile was right on our tail, practically touching the back bumper of the Range Rover.

I faced forward again and blinked at the back of the driver’s head. Had he just said
Edith
? I’d never heard anyone call Gran by her first name before.

“Addy,” Luc said, through slightly gritted teeth. “Meet my father, Renard Stratton.”

Mr. Stratton—even back then and even in my own head I didn’t feel comfortable calling him “Renard”—looked at me in the rearview mirror. “It’s a pleasure, young lady,” he said formally. His
voice was deep and authoritative, as though he was used to saying important things and having people listen to him very carefully. “I’m sorry it’s not under better circumstances. Lucas—”

“I know, Dad. I figured it out.”

“Not all of it you haven’t.” Mr. Stratton tossed a thick, folded-up piece of paper into the backseat. Luc caught and unfolded it, then closed his eyes briefly after he had scanned the contents.

“Damn,” he said, for the second time that night.

“What?” I asked.

Silently, he handed me the paper.

Summons

—

The Esteemed High Council, having become aware of the existence of one Addison Rose Prescott, alias Addy Russell, formally summons Ms. Prescott to present herself before us on the third Tuesday of this November at 9:30 a.m., so her identity and parentage may be confirmed and the proper steps taken under Law Thirty-Seven, and/or any other laws that may be found applicable.

The full measure of the Council’s authority will be brought to bear against any person or persons who acts to prevent Ms. Prescott from coming into our presence on the abovementioned date.

I read through the words twice before I turned confused eyes on Luc.

“The third Tuesday . . . that’s only four days from now! Wait no, it’s Saturday morning—three days! But I don’t understand. I thought you worked for the Council. That’s what you told me.”

Mr. Stratton’s eyes flashed in the rearview mirror again, but this time they were looking at Luc.

He sighed. “That isn’t entirely true, Addy.”

“What?” I exclaimed. “You told me—”

“I told you I worked for the good guys. You assumed I meant the Council, and I didn’t correct you.”

“Then . . . ” I trailed off, not quite sure what to think. My heart started to race. “Who do you work for? The Others? Are you with the Others, Luc?”

“No!” he put a hand on my arm, but I wrenched it away. He grimaced.

Mr. Stratton shook his head in the rearview mirror. “After all the noise you made about how she ‘deserves to know,’” he mused, and Luc frowned.

“She does deserve to know. I was just giving her time, Dad. She’d never even heard of the Annorasi until a few weeks ago, or the Council.”

“Well, now that
they’ve
heard of
her
, I’d say it’s time you got her up to speed,” Mr. Stratton said severely.

“What don’t I know?” I demanded of the two of them. “What is Law Thirty-Seven?”

Luc took a deep breath. “Addy, everything I’ve told you about the Annorasi world has been true. I just left one thing out: the Others may not be the only ones who want to kill you.”

“You mean the
Council
wants to kill me? Why?”

Luc sighed. “We don’t know for sure they want to, but they might. It’s because of Law Thirty-Seven. It sets the penalty for any human who discovers the existence of the Annorasi world.”

“Penalty? What penalty? Death?”

I couldn’t believe it when Luc nodded.

“In order for the Council to uphold their own laws, they may have to execute you.”

——

Mr. Stratton brought the Range Rover smoothly onto 101 and wove through the few cars on the road at this hour. He drove faster than anyone I’d ever seen, including Olivia at her most reckless.

“The Council didn’t send me to you,” Luc explained. “But the Others didn’t send me either. There is a small group within the Annorasi, made up of my father, myself, and a few others, who decided to find you before anyone else could. The plan was to do what we could to keep you hidden—from everyone; the Council, the Others,
everyone.
”

“But the Council found me anyway,” I pointed out. “How?”

Luc and his father looked at each other in the rearview mirror.

“We don’t know,” Luc said finally. He raised his hands when I threw him a disbelieving look. “We
really
don’t. I’m not keeping anything from you here. The Council sits in London—they have no reason to suspect you’d be here in California. Until tonight at the theater, I thought everything was fine. Until you saw Oran Tighe on stage—”

“Oran!” Mr. Stratton barked from the front seat. “Oran was there?”

“—that’s when I knew the Others had found you,” Luc continued, ignoring his father. “And I also knew it was just a matter of time before the Council got wind of it.”

“Who is Oran Tighe?” I asked.

“He’s one of the Others,” Luc answered. “And he won’t be the only one coming around, now that the secret is out.”

“Gran!” I said suddenly, twisting around again and breathing a sigh of relief when I saw that the Oldsmobile was still right behind us. “If they found me, that means they found Gran too.”

“I’ve already spoken to Edith this evening,” Mr. Stratton informed me as he sped across the Golden Gate Bridge. “I told her about the summons. That’s why she went to the police department to pick you up. You’ll be able to talk to her as soon as we get there.”

“Get
where
?” I asked testily. I was starting to feel (and resent) how little control I had over the situation at hand.

“To my house in the city,” Mr. Stratton answered. “You’ll be safe
there for the time being. And so will Edith. We’ll have a bit of time to figure out what we’re going to do.”

I stared down at the paper in my hand; it was hard to believe that a world I hadn’t even known about a month ago had reached its hand out and served me with a death warrant. It didn’t seem real and yet, at the same time, there was nothing fake about the worried knot in my stomach.

Luc took the paper away, put it out of sight, and squeezed my hand in his. “It’s going to be okay,” he assured me.

I wasn’t sure I believed him. In fact, I was pretty certain I didn’t.

The car was silent as we drove toward the Marina.

——

Mr. Stratton drove into a neighborhood across the street from the water, the kind with enormous houses tourists like to drive by and gawk at. The driveway he pulled into belonged to a house made of towering brick, unusual for the area.

As soon as the garage door opened and swallowed up the Range Rover, Mr. Stratton was out of the car and heading inside the house. Under the garage lights, I could see his hair was darker than Luc’s. He cut quite an impressive figure in his expensive black suit; there was something almost frightening about the determined way he walked.

I jumped out of the car quickly as well. The Oldsmobile squealed up behind us, and Gran marched into the garage. Ten small figures exited the car after her. By the time they entered the garage, they’d turned into ten hulking men.

Mr. Stratton was waiting for us in a sunken living room.

Gran moved to the center of the room, folded her arms over her chest, and gave him a glare the likes of which I’d never before seen cross her face. “Renard!” she squawked, “I demand an explanation for this!”