The Marked Page 10

  “The fight?”

  “Against the Irin.” Cam turned and heaved himself up into a straighter position and stared into my eyes. “You shouldn’t know about them yet. Anna shouldn’t have said anything.”

  I gulped at the worry in his voice. “But she did.”

  “She did.” He stared down at his hands.

  “Please, Cam,” I said. “I need to understand what’s going on.” Especially if Jack is one of them.

  “PICTURE A group of people with talents like yours and mine,” said Cam. “But they don’t want to use their talents to do good—they want power and control. And we won’t let them have it. So, to get what they want, they figure they have to destroy us. The Governing Council. The schools. The Watchers. Everyone.”

  I inhaled. “Jeez. No wonder you don’t mention it to newbies.”

  “Yeah. It’s not a pleasant thing to explain. You’re just getting a handle on the fact that you’re joining a secret program for people with supernatural talents. We figure it’s a bit much to throw in the We’re Also Here to Fight These Epic Bad Guys stuff at the same time.”

  I digested that for a moment. “I don’t mean to sound skeptical, because they were definitely scary, but those kids tonight didn’t exactly seem like supervillains. Couldn’t you just bring in a few Watchers and take care of them?”

  “I wish it were that easy. We can’t go around eliminating every cell that comes along. We don’t have enough Watchers, for one thing, and even if we did, it would raise questions for the regular cops that we don’t want to answer. Besides, it wouldn’t do us a whole lot of good. The group you saw tonight is just one of a hundred cells, spread all over the world. Eliminate them, and a new cell will just take their place.”

  “But this—what did you call it? A cell?—this cell broke into Delcroix. Isn’t that a big deal?”

  Cam struggled to sit up more and took a wheezy breath. “We don’t think this cell was the one that broke in at Initiation. That group was more organized and more dangerous. Pete was shot that night, Dancia. If it hadn’t been for David, he’d be dead right now. We didn’t tell anyone because we didn’t want to panic the new students or get the police involved. The group we fought tonight wasn’t even carrying guns. They were just trying to make trouble, not get anyone killed.”

  “I see. There are other, more dangerous gangs out there. Good to know.” I tried to act calm, but Cam’s admission about Pete knocked me back a pace. I had been enormously relieved that no one had gotten hurt at Initiation. It made the whole thing seem a lot less scary. Guns and people dying were an entirely different matter. “But they’re all part of the same group?” I asked.

  Cam leaned his head back against the couch. “They’re all part of a network. It’s huge and diffuse, and some cells are more closely tied into the center than others. The Seattle cell is what we call a training cell. They don’t have much contact with the leadership. They’re mostly teenagers, just starting to use their talents. Other cells are much further along.”

  I slipped off my shoes and tucked my feet under me. “Who’s in charge of it all?”

  “There’s a guy named Gregori who seems to be their leader. He feeds money and weapons to the cells, and they give him their loyalty. But they do whatever they want, most of the time. There are only a few cells that answer to him directly.” Cam paused and pushed his hair back from his face. “The Irin aren’t like any other enemy you can imagine,” he said. “They don’t have a rule book or a single strategy. The cells are independent. The only thing that ties them together is their hatred.”

  I didn’t have a hard time believing that. You could feel the hatred in the way Thaddeus had thrown the brick—like he wanted it to be something far worse. Far more deadly.

  “How do they find each other?” I asked.

  “We don’t know for certain. We assume they recruit, like we do, but instead of searching schools for high-performing kids, they head for jails and street corners. They find the kids who are already in trouble and promise to give them power. Kids like…”

  He didn’t have to finish his thought.

  I knew he was thinking about Jack, who had been forced to leave Delcroix and was probably still on the run from the Watchers.

  Jack, who had spent time living under a bridge, and believed that that justified his stealing and using his power as he liked.

  Jack, who probably hated Delcroix and the Watchers more with every breath he took.

  I understood that hatred. It broke my heart, because it meant he now hated everything I stood for, but I understood it, too. I even felt a little of it myself. Delcroix had taken away my best friend. How could I not hate it, just a little?

  “So they recruit,” I said. “Then what? Do they have schools like we do?”

  “The Irin don’t have formal training programs, because they can’t settle down. We make sure of that. They also don’t have our history or our libraries. We’ve spent decades refining teaching techniques for various talents. They make it up as they go along. We believe their training cells are a sort of testing ground. The members of the cell harass our students, do some damage in the community, and practice their talents—all while making sure not to be so dangerous they get themselves killed off by the Watchers. If they can do that, Gregori brings them into his inner circle, and they get trained by his top operatives.”

  Questions kept coming to me, increasing in number with everything that Cam said, but his skin was getting paler, and I could tell he was in a lot of pain. I would have to stop talking soon. Still, I couldn’t keep myself from asking one more thing, as Jack’s image hovered in my mind. “When does a cell get dangerous enough to be eliminated?”

  Cam leaned forward and put both hands on his knees. Slowly, he pushed himself up to a standing position, though he remained bent, like Grandma first thing in the morning. His face turned white.

  I jumped to my feet and held out my hand to steady him. He did not take it. “You should sit back down,” I said. “You aren’t okay like this.”

  “We need to get back. The gates close at eleven.”

  “As if they wouldn’t open them for you.”

  He acknowledged the truth of my words with a nod of the head. “Still. We should go. I promised your grandma I’d have you back by eleven.”

  “You just don’t want to talk anymore,” I said.

  “I need to brief Mr. Judan.” He straightened with a sharp exhalation. “And I’m tired. I don’t want to stay here all night.”

  “Will he be mad that I know?”

  “It’s too late to worry about that now, isn’t it?” Cam put his hand on my shoulder and took a step toward me, his face gray and drawn.

  “Is there more?” I asked. “More that you aren’t telling me?”

  Warm, strong hands found my waist and pulled me close. He touched my face with one hand, shaking his head in wonder. “Dancia, you never give up, do you?”

  As was always the case, my brain started to fog up the second he touched me. I struggled to hold on to my thoughts, to keep pushing at something that had seemed vitally important only seconds before, but became wholly irrelevant when Cam’s arms were around me.

  My words came out in slow motion. “Is that a bad thing?”

  “No.” He leaned forward, whispering, his breath warm as he gently kissed my neck. “It’s who you are.”

  The kiss caught me by surprise. I stood still, wanting to savor the feeling as long as I could.

  He did it again.

  I forgot about the Irin. I forgot my own name. Nothing mattered but the touch of his lips on my skin. He kissed my mouth and I wrapped my arms around his neck. I touched his hair, my knees like jelly.

  “I guess this wasn’t the best Valentine’s Day,” he said.

  I shook my head slightly. “Best Valentine’s Day I’ve ever had.”

  He lowered his head to kiss me again. It was the longest, deepest kiss yet. I clung to his shoulders to stay upright.

  “Ahem.
”

  We sprang apart guiltily. Anna and her mom stood in the doorway. Anna coughed into her hand, her heart-shaped face registering only polite amusement.

  Cam chuckled. “Sorry. Just saying good night.”

  Anna’s mom laughed. “I guess you’re getting started early, then, since you’re driving her home.” She gestured toward the stairs. “I’ll check on David and the others. Anna, you keep an eye on these two.”

  I felt the anger rolling off Anna, but she kept her expression carefully neutral. “Sure, Mom. You can count on it.”

  To my shock and horror, Grandma was waiting up when Cam dropped me off at my house. She had on her pajamas, which is to say, a threadbare terry cloth robe and an embarrassingly short white nightgown, with curlers in her hair and a white chiffon scarf tied over her head.

  Very attractive.

  She had, thank goodness, removed the baby-doll makeup that usually colored her lips red and her cheeks bright pink. I suspect she had fallen asleep on the couch, because her eyes were puffy and unfocused behind her thick glasses. She threw open the door just as I prepared to melt into Cam’s arms for one last good-night kiss.

  Cam and I both froze, startled to see her appear like a white-haired gnome. She held up her watch. “Five minutes late,” she declared.

  Without a second of hesitation, Cam turned on the charm. Sincerity oozed from every inch of him, from his puppy-dog eyes to the tousled hair across his forehead. “I sincerely apologize for my tardiness in returning Dancia. Unfortunately, there was some unexpected excitement at the party tonight, and we had to stay long enough to talk to the police.”

  “The police?” Grandma’s eyes widened.

  “Yes. A gang of miscreants threw a rock at someone’s car, and a fight broke out. There was no serious danger to anyone. It was just a fistfight. You’re welcome to call Anna’s mother to talk to her about it.”

  “Is that why your face is beat up?” she asked. “Why you can’t stand up straight?”

  He pressed a hand against his ribs. “I’m afraid so. I didn’t appreciate the way they were acting.”

  Grandma nodded approvingly. “I like a boy who isn’t afraid to fight.” She inspected me. “Your clothes aren’t even wrinkled. Did you stay out of it?”

  “Yes.” I pushed past her into the house. She and Cam followed. I moved aside a pile of newspapers and leaned against the dining room table, which sat just a few feet away from the door. Our house was so small you could see the whole thing from the front entry: dining room table pressed against the wall to the left of the living room, tiny kitchen through an entryway beyond that.

  Grandma scowled at me. “Why’s that?”

  Cam seemed startled by her words, but I just grimaced. I was used to Grandma’s eccentricities. “You know I’m not the best with my hands, Grandma. Do you want me to get pummeled for no good reason?”

  “Your hands are fine. You just need more practice.”

  “You want Dancia to fight?” Cam asked, amazed.

  “Of course,” she snapped, as if that should have been obvious. “I want her to be able to defend herself. She doesn’t need to be stupid about it, but she can’t let a boy fight all her battles.”

  “I don’t think that will be a problem,” Cam said wryly. “I think Dancia can defend herself just fine.”

  “If you say so,” Grandma said as she started toward the kitchen. “Would you like a soda?”

  Cam shook his head. “I need to get back to school.”

  “Well, that’s all right, then. Thank you for bringing Dancia home.”

  Cam and I shuffled around each other awkwardly. I didn’t know if we should shake hands or hug, or if Grandma would be mad if we did either. I decided no touching was the best course to follow. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

  Cam reached forward and squeezed my hand. “See you Monday.” He inclined his head toward Grandma in a move that was somewhere between a nod and a bow. “Thanks again for letting me take Dancia out.”

  She looked at him over the top of her glasses. “You’d better get on back to school.”

  He drove off slowly. Grandma went immediately toward the phone on the wall in the kitchen. “What’s that woman’s name? I want to hear about what happened.”

  “You could just ask me,” I said.

  She stopped and walked back to the living room, sinking down slowly into her favorite chair, her nightgown billowing around her like a huge white parachute. “All right, tell me about it.”

  I pulled the old blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped it around my shoulders as I sat down. I explained about the rock and the fight, and how Cam wanted me to go back into the house so I’d be safe.

  Grandma held out her hand to stop me. “I understand. He’s your knight in shining armor. And I’m happy he’s willing to defend you. Just don’t think that that excuses him for bringing you home late.”

  “But, Grandma, there was a fight,” I protested. “And police. Call Anna’s mom if you don’t believe me. She’ll tell you.”

  She sniffed. “Oh, I’ll call her all right. But still, if that boy was so amazing, he could have gotten you home on time. Even with a fight.”

  I closed my eyes in frustration. When I opened them, I realized she was smiling. Just a little. “I’m going to bed,” I grumbled, realizing I’d been had.

  She stood, and I gave her a good-night hug. Grandma came up only to my shoulder. When I hugged her, I could rest my chin on the top of her head.

  “I’m glad you weren’t hurt, dear child,” she said softly. “I wouldn’t want to have to traipse around Seattle looking for those kids. My uppercut isn’t what it once was.”

  I smiled at the idea of Grandma fighting Thaddeus. Then I imagined the Irin coming to our house, throwing a brick at our car or through our window, and the smile fell away. In an instant, the purpose of the Program became stunningly clear. How many other Grandmas were out there, needing protection? How many babies or little kids? The gang members that attacked us at Anna’s house were frightening, and they were only teenagers. If they got trained they’d be even more powerful, and more dangerous. It didn’t matter what Cam wasn’t telling me about the Irin—what I knew was bad enough.

  “We’ll deal with them,” I promised. “You don’t have to worry about a thing.”

  I headed back to my room, memories of the night swirling through my head. Cam, fighting like a ninja from some kung fu movie. Anna, accusing me of calling in the Irin. Barrett, eyes flashing, telling me I wasn’t ready. And the boy in the long coat. The boy I feared I knew.

  I grabbed the handles on the bottom drawer of my dresser, jerking it hard when the old, warped wood refused to move. I must have been rougher than usual, because I knocked over the two silver frames I had on top, with their faded photos of me and my mom and dad just before they died. I was standing the pictures back up when I saw the note, carefully folded into a little tent, my name written across the front in narrow, arching black letters.

  My heartbeat roared in my ears. I picked up the note with trembling hands and tore it open.

  They’re still lying. Ask them where the Irin came from. Ask them what happened to Ethan Hannigan. Call me if you want to know the truth.

  There was a phone number. I swallowed hard.

  Jack had returned.

  I JAMMED the letter into my back pocket, then forced myself to grab my pajama bottoms and T-shirt and head for the bathroom. After I’d locked the door and turned on the water in the sink, I took out the letter and stared at it. My palms began to sweat as I gripped the sheet of paper. It felt hot under my fingers, like it might burst into flames if I held it too long.

  I don’t know how long I looked at that number, but the hot water from the sink fogged up the mirror, and I knew Grandma would be banging on the door soon, asking what was going on. I had to make a decision. I should have destroyed the letter as fast as I could, but my hands refused to move. Finally, I dug my cell phone out of my pocket, selected “new conta
ct,” and paused. It seemed dangerous to use Jack’s name, so I typed Ethan Hannigan instead. I entered the number from Jack’s note carefully, erasing and retyping when my trembling fingers missed the keys. If anyone found it, I figured I could say I had a cousin with that name.

  When I was finished, I ripped the letter into tiny pieces and flushed it down the toilet. If Anna or her friends were somehow watching my house, I didn’t want to keep any evidence that Jack had contacted me. I might already have been in trouble.

  Yet I couldn’t throw away a chance to talk to Jack. Not after all we’d been through.

  I’m the first to admit Jack and I hadn’t exactly parted on the best of terms. He had wanted me to come with him, and I had stayed. I chose Cam and Delcroix over Jack, and he knew it. Still, I felt a bond with him that was difficult to explain—a bond that made it hard for me to believe he’d gone and joined the Irin.

  And there was the small matter of the kiss we’d shared in my backyard. I tried not to think about it, because I had a boyfriend now. But still. He was the first boy I’d ever kissed. It wasn’t as if I could erase it from my memory.

  I knew he had been terrified when he left, on the run from a pack of very determined Watchers. But Jack wouldn’t have hurt anyone. If the Irin were truly bad, Jack couldn’t have gotten involved with them.

  Could he?

  It didn’t help my confusion that, even after talking to Cam, things still didn’t add up. Why did a group of teenagers hate Delcroix so much? Cam had said there were hundreds of cells, all over the world. Were they all frustrated bad guys who wanted to take over the world?

  There had to be more to their story. I wished I could have ignored it, but Jack’s note was right—Cam was hiding something.

  I shook my head sourly. And I’d thought once I was in the Program there would be no more secrets.

  I stared at the phone for a long time. Then, unable to believe what I was doing, I pushed the button.

  “It’s about time you called.”

  I jerked to my feet, heart racing at the sound of the familiar voice.