Forbidden

thirty-four

Claire’s heart almost stopped.
Celeste stepped back.
Alec stood not two feet away, staring at Celeste with icy calm. He was dressed in a sharp three-piece suit and tie and his usual combat boots, his dark blond hair stylishly tousled, his guitar case slung over his shoulder. Claire barely had time to register her joy and relief at the sight of him—he was here, really here—when Celeste interjected sullenly, “You never know when to make a graceful exit, do you?”
The two Fallen who were flanking Celeste lumbered toward Alec like attack dogs. “Back off, cowboy, you had your chance,” said the shorter guy.
“Let the filly make her own decision,” the tall one chimed in.
“Cowboy? Filly? What are you talking about?” Neil asked.
“Stay out of this, Neil,” Alec ordered.
“No, you stay out of it, MacKenzie. Claire’s with me tonight.”
“I’m not here to steal your date,” Alec reassured him.
“Then why are you here?” Neil demanded.
“Alec?” Erica cried, stunned, as she and Brian suddenly appeared at Claire’s elbow. “I thought you left!”
“I did.” Alec’s gaze flicked to Claire’s. Although his lips were pressed together and his eyes were stern and forceful, his cheeks were flushed, and the muscles around his mouth twitched with the apparent effort to control them. “Looks like it’s a good thing I came back.”
Blood raced through Claire’s veins. Had Alec returned on her account? If so, how did he know the Fallen would show up tonight? Or had he known? Would he get in trouble for coming back? Was he here for a minute, an hour, or a day? However long it was, Claire was so thrilled to be in his presence again, she could hardly breathe, much less speak.
Alec turned to the Fallen. “I’m going to count to three. By then, you guys are gone.”
“Excuse me! Is there a problem here?” a deep voice bellowed from nearby. Mr. Patterson approached the group, looking surprisingly dashing in a brown suit and burgundy shirt and tie. He stopped in front of the newcomers. “You kids don’t go to this school. Who are you here with?”
“Nobody,” Claire answered, the first word she’d been able to utter since Alec appeared.
“And they were just leaving,” Alec added firmly.
Celeste stared at Mr. Patterson quizzically, as if there was something unusual about the man that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Her gaze then drifted to Alec and back again. Finally, she shook her head and let out a laugh, raising her hands and stepping back in acquiescence. “O-kay. I think we’ve worn out our welcome at this party. Sayonara, and best of luck to … all of you.”
Celeste tapped the shoulders of her two compatriots, who joined her as she ambled toward the door. Alec followed close behind, darting a look over his shoulder at Claire that went straight to her heart. His eyes betrayed a silent wealth of emotions: concern, fury, frustration, love, pain, and regret.
Before she was out of earshot, Celeste whirled around and shouted back to Claire, “Call when you need us, Claire. And you will need us.”
A shiver ran down Claire’s spine. She couldn’t conceive of a time when she would ever willingly solicit or accept their help, and hoped to never see them again. As Mr. Patterson disappeared into the crowd and the trio and Alec left the gym, Claire exchanged a look with Erica and Brian.
“That was weird,” Neil said.
What was going to happen now? Claire worried. Was there going to be a fight? If so, Alec was outnumbered. She had no idea what kind of talents the other three possessed. Even though Alec was a powerful Grigori, could he successfully counter them all at once? Every instinct told her that she should follow and try to help him.
“Neil—will you excuse me a minute?” Claire’s gaze involuntarily flicked back toward the gym doors. “I—”
Before she could complete her thought, the music stopped and the DJ came over the loudspeakers:
“Hey, hey, hey! It’s the moment you’ve all been waiting for. Let’s gather round the stage for the announcement of this year’s Homecoming Court!”
Erica grabbed Claire’s forearm and spoke fiercely in her ear. “Don’t even think about it, Claire. I’m not letting you go out there.”
“What could you do, anyway?” Brian added vociferously in her other ear. “They’re Alec’s problem now. He can take care of it.”
“Don’t be nervous, Claire,” Neil said with a smile, completely misinterpreting her dilemma. He put his hand on the small of her back and urged her gently toward the crowd gathering around the stage. “Come on. You worked hard for this moment.”
“Keep walking,” Alec directed Celeste and her cohorts, as he accompanied them across the parking lot.
The past week had been the most miserable of his life. Leaving Claire was the hardest thing he’d ever done. He’d gotten as far as Stockholm, where Vincent had ordered him to log on for a mental reprimand by the Elders and the details of his next assignment—but he hadn’t been able to bring himself to do it. He’d remained under the radar, festering, his innards feeling as if they’d been melted away by an acid rain, putting off the inevitable for just a little while longer.
And then a strange message had blazed into his brain, like a radio on an imperfect frequency, alerting him that Claire was in danger and needed him. He could guess who had sent it—Claire had described the experience well enough—and he’d taken the first flight back, arriving just in time, it seemed.
“We’re going,” Celeste insisted moodily, glaring at Alec. “We don’t need an escort.”
“I don’t want to see you three here again, understood?” Alec growled.
“Oh yeah?” cried the short, stocky guy, whirling on Alec. “What are you gonna do if we come back? Hit us with your guitar?”
“Rico, don’t provoke him,” Celeste called out.
“Why not?” Rico advanced toward Alec and gave him a hard shove. “There’s three of us, and only one of him.”
Alec regained his footing, suppressing a small smirk. He’d seen these guys in action before. Their talents were physical, not cerebral, but he knew he could take them.
“What’s so funny, dipshit?” Rico’s eyes flashed with anger now. Suddenly, the skin on his forehead began to bulge and tear, revealing a jagged, hornlike protrusion that extended from his nose to the crown of his head.
“Rico, knock it off, I’m serious,” Celeste insisted.
“I’m not afraid of this guy,” Rico hooted. As he flexed his thick fingers, more short, bony spikes ripped through the sleeves of his jacket and the flesh of his knuckles. “He screwed up our party. That sweet little thing was supposed to be ours.”
“The party’s not over yet,” Alec said quietly.
Celeste rolled her eyes. “Shit, here we go.”
Rico roared and charged at Alec, spikes first. In a blur, Alec sidestepped the maneuver and delivered a hard, downward kick to the back of Rico’s knee. There was the sharp, popping sound of snapped tendons as Rico tumbled to the ground.
The taller Fallen—Javed, as Alec recalled—held up his hands and rubbed them together deliberately. As he slowly drew them apart, the air in between crackled with visible arcs of electricity. Instantly, he leapt at Alec, his hands pulsing with energy.
Just before Javed made contact, Alec spun and telekinetically flung Javed’s hands back against his own chest. Javed cried out and dropped to the ground, jerking spasmodically as the current passed through him.
Celeste sighed to herself. “Testosterone.” She glared at Alec, pointing back at the gym. “You know, you’ve got far worse problems in there than dealing with us.”
Alec frowned, uncertain what she was getting at.
Celeste let out a smug laugh. “And you don’t even see it coming.” She glanced down at her two cohorts. “Get up, boys, let’s get moving.”
The two guys groaned and stumbled to their feet, then limped after Celeste to their yellow Humvee. In a squeal of tires, it sped out of the lot and up the hill.
Alec heaved a sigh of relief, but Celeste’s last statement hovered in his mind. He knew Celeste had unique powers for sniffing out the paranormal. What was she hinting at? Did she know about the were-cougar that Helena had warned him about? Or was something worse in store?
He scanned the parking lot and the bushes on the dark surrounding hillside, looking for any sign of movement, anything out of the ordinary. He’d only be able to see the creature’s aura if he caught it in the act of changing forms. Then it occurred to him—the guy might still be in human form, and possibly lurking inside. Not wanting to take any chances, Alec hurried back toward the gym.
A member of the Homecoming Committee handed the DJ a sealed envelope. He ripped it open. “Ho-kay, first up is Homecoming Princess.”
The tension of the moment briefly distracted Claire from her worries about Alec and the trio outside. She hadn’t really acknowledged it to herself until this very moment, but deep down, she secretly did hope to win this, even though she was still sure it would never happen. She held her breath in anticipation, waiting, wondering, as she glanced at Erica—but Erica was avoiding her gaze.
“Everyone put your hands together for the young darling who stole your hearts and will wear this year’s junior crown: Gabrielle Miller!”
A burst of applause followed. Claire’s heart sank. Gabrielle rushed up to the stage, squealing obnoxiously as she accepted her crown. Claire politely joined in the clapping. Neil beside her let out a frustrated sigh. “It should’ve been you.”
Brian also looked crestfallen and shot Claire a sympathetic look.
“I’m sorry,” Erica said just loud enough so Claire could hear. “I knew, and I couldn’t tell anyone. And it was killing me. Claire, she beat you by only twelve votes.”
That made Claire feel somewhat better. “Thanks,” she whispered back, reminding herself once again that none of this really mattered. Alec was outside. Had he and the Fallen gotten into a fight? Was he okay? How could she make a successful getaway?
The announcement for prince came next. “And the lucky prince who gets to dance with this lovely lady is… Neil Mitchum.” Uproarious applause followed.
Claire threw her arms around Neil. “I knew it’d be you,” she said with a smile.
Neil returned her hug, then turned toward the podium, beaming but conflicted. “I’ll be back, Brennan. Don’t go anywhere. I’m still your date.”
Alec dashed into the gym’s trophy-lined entryway. The music had stopped, and he could hear thundering applause from within. As he made a beeline for the gym doorway, Mr. Patterson suddenly appeared, blocking his path.
“Mr. MacKenzie.” Patterson’s mouth crinkled in an uncharacteristically warm smile. His left hand was in his coat pocket. “Did the gate-crashers depart?”
“They did.”
“Good. I heard that you dropped out of school. I hope that’s not true. It’s nice to see you again.” He reached out his right hand for a handshake.
Alec paused to shake the teacher’s hand. His attention was focused on the activity inside the gym, searching the crowd for any sign of his dreadlocked quarry. In his peripheral vision, he saw a blur of movement by the side of his throat. He felt a sharp sting in his neck, and a burning sensation as if he’d just been injected with something.
“What the hell?” Alec’s eyes darted up to Patterson’s in shock and confusion as he stepped backward. He saw the teacher replace a syringe in his pocket. Immediately, Alec’s vision began to swim, and he felt his knees buckle.
Mr. Patterson reached forward and grasped Alec beneath the armpits, pulling him close to his chest. There was an unnatural glint in his eyes as his lips curled into a wolfish sneer.
“Mr. MacKenzie, have you been drinking?” Patterson said under his breath, in a voice that suddenly sounded different, deeper, and all too familiar. “Let’s take you someplace where you can sleep it off.”
Alec’s eyes widened helplessly as he stared at the man holding him up. “Vincent?” he gasped as his body grew limp.
Claire barely paid attention as the DJ crowned the winners for king and queen. Alec is here, her mind drummed over and over like a heartbeat. She had to find him, make sure he was okay. It might be her last chance to ever see or talk to him.
As Neil led Gabrielle onto the dance floor for the Royal Court dance, his eyes darted apologetically toward Claire. She sent him an encouraging smile. Now, she thought as she turned for the doors.
“Would you like to dance?” came Brian’s voice from beside her. There was sympathy in his eyes. She had no time for this, and no need to be pitied.
“Thanks, Bri, but you should dance with your date. I’m going to get some air.”
“Wait, you’re not going outside, are you?” Erica cried urgently. “If you are, we have to come with you.”
“No, please, I want to be alone for a few minutes.”
“Are you nuts?” Brian exclaimed. “Helena said you shouldn’t go anywhere alone tonight!”
Claire paused. In the excitement of seeing Alec, she’d almost forgotten Helena’s warning. But if Alec was outside, she wouldn’t be alone, right? Maybe the Fallen would be gone by now, and Alec would be looking for her.
“I have to find Alec,” Claire insisted. “I’ll just wait for him in the entryway. I promise.” With a reassuring smile, she turned and made her way through the crowd.
The room slowly came into focus. Alec blinked. Where the hell was he? What had happened? His mind was foggy and sluggish, his body felt heavy, and he was unable to move.
His nose was assaulted by a damp, musty smell. The floor beneath him was cold and hard. Alec recognized the white tile and realized he was slumped in the showers of the boys’ locker room. Glancing down, he saw that his hands and feet had been tied with wire.
“I trusted you to stay away,” growled Vincent’s voice from the body of Mr. Patterson. “I told myself that a deal, once made, was something you had enough integrity to honor. A mistake, I assure you, that will not be repeated.” He was standing in full view a few feet away, over one of the benches between the rows of gym lockers, examining the contents of Alec’s guitar case. “Came prepared for a fight, I see,” he added, turning and holding up the broadsword that Alec had stowed within. Patterson’s image flickered and changed into Vincent, who towered tall and dark above him. “Too bad you didn’t come prepared for me.”
Alec tried to formulate a reply, but his lips wouldn’t move. He fought against the wave of sleepiness that threatened to engulf him. Vincent was posing as Patterson? Alec silently cursed himself for not noticing it when he first saw him. This must be what Celeste had picked up on. He wondered where the real Patterson was—if he was even still alive.
“Don’t waste your energy trying to speak.” Vincent chuckled. He slipped Alec’s sword back into the case and removed a large, silver-colored, semiautomatic pistol. Confirming that the clip was loaded, Vincent slapped it back in, checked to be sure the safety was on, and tucked the gun into the waistband of his pants beneath his jacket. “I gave you quite a hefty dose of tranquilizers, enough to knock out an elephant. In your case, it will merely take you down a few notches for several hours. Make you more … human. Which is fitting, I suppose, since you’re acting more and more like one lately. Headstrong. Foolhardy. Throwing away everything for a girl you think you love.”
Alec concentrated every ounce of his mental energy on his wrists, trying to command them to pull apart—an action that ordinarily would have been simple for him—but the wire that bound them only cut painfully into his flesh and held them tight.
“Stop struggling. You’re just going to hurt yourself.” Vincent closed the guitar case and leaned it against a bank of lockers, then glanced at his watch. “The drug should wear off around six a.m., just before the janitorial staff arrives.”
Alec strained again to speak, but all that came out was a whisper. “You’re … insane.”
“No, you are. You refuse to deal with this Halfblood in the appropriate manner. I’ve been following this case for sixteen years, trying to do things by the book, but the rules don’t work anymore. I try to convince the girl’s father to be reasonable, then he tries to kill me—and vanishes. Every time I get a solid lead on him or his wife, it goes nowhere. When his spawn finally shows up on the grid, it’s impossible to pin down. So I had to get”—Vincent lifted an eyebrow—“creative.”
Alec stared at him. “The … scaffolding?”
Vincent shrugged. “Who else? I was desperate for an opportunity to force that boy to use his supposed speed talent, and when I overheard your gaggle was meeting him downstairs, I jumped at the opportunity. But instead of him swooping in and saving his friends, you did.”
“Lucky thing… I was there,” Alec managed.
“Hardly—if you hadn’t interfered, the real Halfblood would’ve been contained weeks ago, and I wouldn’t have had to pose as this idiotic teacher for the evening. Well, I won’t let you screw things up this time. The world’s equilibrium must be maintained, and you’re so blinded by this disease of human emotion that you have lost sight of it.” In a blink, the illusion was restored, and he was Patterson again.
“You’ve been … planning to kill her … all along, haven’t you?” Alec gasped.
“Of course,” Mr. Patterson scoffed, as he turned and left the room.