CHAPTER NINETEEN
Alone in his room that evening, Jonathan watched television without really following it. He’d told her he loved her, and she didn’t feel the same way. He’d honestly believed that she did, or he wouldn’t have said anything. Part of him was still sure of it. So why couldn’t she say it?
When he’d talked to Val yesterday, he hadn’t told her specifically what had happened, but he’d told her his feelings were stronger than Cassie’s. She’d said that he needed to give it time, which was exactly what he hadn’t done so far, but he didn’t know how much time he had with Cassie.
His phone rang, and he looked at the screen. Cassie. What could he say? He’d even told her he’d betray his own vows for her, if necessary, and he wasn’t going to walk it back.
The phone continued ringing, and he finally answered. “Hey, what’s up.”
“Um…do you want to come by?”
He paused. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea, but he wanted her like an alcoholic wanted a drink.
“Jonathan?” Her voice was uncertain.
“I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
Almost as soon as he knocked, she opened the door wearing a tank top and pajama pants.
“Hey,” he said, and she gestured for him to come inside.
As the door slipped closed behind him, she said, “Thanks for coming.”
He put his hands on her hips and drew her closer.
“I thought you might be mad,” she half whispered.
“I know I don’t have the right to be.”
She peered up at him. “That’s not the same as not being mad.”
“It’s close enough.” Her warmth and the sound of her voice filled him with longing, body and soul. He sighed. “Honestly, I didn’t come here to talk.”
She looked as though she was about to object, but then she said, “Okay. Talking later.” Standing on her tiptoes, she offered her mouth to his. He claimed it fiercely. The passion and the connection of their bodies spoke for itself, reassuring Jonathan that he meant a lot to her, even if it wasn’t yet as much as he’d hoped. He could live with that.
“Hey.” Late at night, she shook his shoulder, waking him up. “There is something I need to talk to you about.”
He opened his eyes and half sat up. “What?” Now, maybe, they’d discuss what hung between them. Hope kindled inside him. She might return his confession of love.
“Capitán Renaud wants me to join Manus Sancti.”
Maybe he was hearing her wrong. He wasn’t awake yet. “What do you mean, ‘join’?”
“He wants me to become a Knight.”
She’s going to stay.
The flame of joy extinguished, stomped out by anger. No, no, no. This wasn’t how he wanted to keep her here. The thought of her—her spirit, her precious body—undergoing the harsh initiation and training, of rushing into harm’s way at every turn, infuriated him. It was sacrilege.
“What,” she said.
Christos. All he’d wanted from the time he’d realized she was an innocent woman with a beautiful soul was to keep her safe. How could Capitán Renaud ask this? The answer that came to mind filled him with disgust. “They really want that codex.” He got up and began to pull on his underwear and jeans. Where was he even going? To Capitán’s quarters, at this hour, to demand an explanation?
“They want me. They can have the codex either way—buy it, steal it and wipe my memory, whatever. It’s me they want.”
He zipped his fly. “You can’t. It’s insane. You’ll get yourself killed.”
“Not necessarily—”
“You know what happened to my brother.” He flashed back to the image of Michael detonating into dust right in front of his eyes. If something like that happened to Cassie…
“It doesn’t happen to everyone. You’re still alive.”
She could’ve sounded a little less flippant about his brother’s death. And she was naïve—brutally so. “Don’t you get it? Even trained warriors get killed. All the time.” He’d lost so much already—his brother, his mom. Was it too much to ask that one thing he loved in life wasn’t in danger of exploding in his face? “You can’t do this kind of work. You have no chance!”
She put her head down on her knees. What was she doing? Calming herself down because she was angry. Why should she be, though, when he hadn’t said anything wrong or even untrue? He sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled on a boot.
She raised her head. “You don’t think I’m a bit tough.”
“I think you’re an idiot for even considering this.”
“What?”
“You’re being used,” he growled. “The codex magic is a weapon. Capitán wants to try it out. You’re not some special chosen one. You just happen to be here.”
“What does that even mean?”
He pulled the bootlaces too hard and broke one. Fine. “There are thousands of people with your same ancestry. He uses what’s in front of him. We all do.” He leaned closer. “Tell me you’re not considering this.”
She said right into his face, “I’m considering it.”
He banged his fist on the bedside table, making her jump.
She stood up at the same time he did. “No, you do not get to slam things. You’re a big guy; it’s not fair!”
He turned away from her, raising his hands in the air. She was right, but he still wanted to smash something.
“I thought you’d be happy I was staying.” Her voice was filled with bitterness.
His back was still to her and he set his hands on top of his head. “Christos,” he muttered, disgusted with himself. If his ill-timed declaration helped encourage her to do something stupid, he wasn’t going to be able to stand it.
“Go ahead and leave.”
From the sound of her voice, he’d be lucky if a whole family of venomous snakes bit him this time. He spun back around. “Why are you mad at me? I’m the one who doesn’t want you to get hurt!”
“You basically said I’d be a worthless coworker.” That was too ridiculous to merit a response. “If I don’t join, and they reverse the spell somehow, I’ll leave, and you’ll still be here. Is that what you want?”
“What I want is irrelevant!” He took a deep breath, his chest expanding, and let it out. “We’re going to let this go. For now. We’re both too mad.” Even as he said it, he was choking on his own temper. They were getting too close to her losing control. “Let’s not talk about it for a few days.”
“I don’t want to be away from you that long!”
“That’s not what I’m saying!” Belatedly, he recognized that what she’d said was actually sweet, even if she sounded pissed as hell. He stabbed at the inside corners of his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “Look. I’ll see you tomorrow morning. And we won’t talk about this.” Or about his being in love with her. God only knew what they would discuss.
“Fine,” she snapped.
He cursed under his breath and left.
“You shouldn’t call me an idiot,” Cassie told Jonathan the next morning, once they were both sitting down with their breakfasts at the cantina.
He stabbed a piece of chorizo with his fork. “I didn’t. I said you were considering something idiotic.”
“That’s not what you said.” Even as she pressed the point, her heart sank. She’d had this kind of conversation with Rick before.
“I thought we weren’t going to talk about this.” He stuffed a large bite into his mouth.
“We’re not talking about…that. We’re talking about how we fight. I think we should have ground rules.”
He met her eyes. “I won’t call you an idiot.” Well, that was more than she’d ever gotten from Rick. An “I’m sorry” would’ve been nice, but clearly, Jonathan was still agitated as hell.
“Morning.” She and Jonathan both looked up to see Gabi. “Am I interrupting?”
“No,” Cassie said quickly, relieved for the interruption, at the same time that Jonathan said, “Join us.”
Gabi said she was on her way to the gym after breakfast and teased Jonathan about never going anymore now that he was hanging out with Cassie all the time. Jonathan didn’t seem to think it was funny and pointed out that he was just now healing up. He said he’d train with her that morning.
“I’ll come along,” Cassie said. “I want to see the gym.” She did have one set of workout clothes in the bag that had been packed for her. He still owed her an apology, and she probably wasn’t going to get it if she holed up by herself in her room.
They both got changed in their own quarters and met up at the elevator bank. Before the elevator arrived, Cassie heard a familiar “Salaam.” She turned to see Lucia approaching them. “Cassie. Capitán Renaud told me to talk to you about the history of Manus Sancti.”
Jonathan stiffened. Oh, God. Cassie wasn’t up for any more fighting. He said, “She doesn’t need to hear any more.”
“Excuse me,” Cassie said. Lucia gave Jonathan a sympathetic look. “You know you don’t get a vote here.”
Jonathan said, “Talk to her later. We’re going to the gym, and I’m meeting Gabi.” Lucia raised an eyebrow. He added, “Cassie wants to see the gym. And I haven’t trained in more than a week.”
“Yes, you’ve really let yourself go,” Lucia deadpanned. “It has to be now. I’m leaving for Italy in two hours. I’ll send you my codes and itinerary.” Jonathan scowled. He could hardly argue with this, since Capitán had made him Lucia’s contact. “I’ll come with you,” she said to Cassie. “I can talk anywhere.”
The gym took up an entire floor, with a running track around the border, a rough and uneven imitation of a rocky terrain. Several people ran on treadmills through holographic environments. One man loped in a jungle and ducked as a three-dimensional graphic of a knife whizzed toward his head. The woman on the machine next to him alternately walked and sprinted down the streets and alleys of a European city, dodging traffic.
Jonathan grumbled, “I could tell her all about Manus Sancti myself.”
“History is the realm of the Scholars,” Lucia replied, speaking more to Cassie than to him.
In practice rings, people fought one another, punching and kicking, but not inflicting serious damage. One man and woman dueled with big sticks. While Cassie watched, another stick flew from the floor straight at the woman’s head.
Cassie gasped. Before the woman got brained, it stopped mid-air and then twirled toward the other guy, who used the stick in both of his hands to bat it to the floor.
Her jaw dropped. “What the hell did I just see?”
Lucia grinned. “Telekinesis.”
“No fucking way.” Cassie whirled to face Jonathan. “Can you do that?”
He made a wry face. “I wish. Samir and Freya are the only ones on the planet, as far as we know.”
The two warriors had noticed them watching. The guy’s face broke into a huge smile and as he strode over to them, Cassie recognized him as Lucia’s fiancé from the photos in the office. He reached Lucia and pulled her in for a quick kiss. “What brings you to the gym?”
“It’s not that strange of an occurrence.” Cassie had to grin at the two of them together: the magical warrior, and the messy nerd. They were too adorable.
“Please,” he said. “You’re a rarer sight here than I am at the library.” His hooded, dark eyes landed on Cassie. They were framed with lashes so thick it made him look as though he were wearing eyeliner. “This is the bruja?”
Lucia reddened. Cassie had figured out by now that for them, bruja was an insult—“witch” in the bad way. “Cassie Rios, this is Samir Hassan. Manners aren’t his strong suit.”
“That’s okay,” she said. “They aren’t mine, either.”
“Good to meet you, Cassie Rios,” he said. “Even if you’re the reason Luci has to abandon me on a quest.”
Cassie told Lucia, “I’m sorry you have to go all that way.”
Samir laughed. “She loves to travel.”
“I’ve heard Aquileia is lovely,” Lucia said.
“She thought Los Angeles was lovely,” Samir teased, which seemed to Cassie like uncalled-for snark, coming from someone who lived in a giant glass hole in the desert. But still, most of the people here had lived in many places, and the Knights were always getting sent on missions to various parts of the country.
“In its way,” Lucia said. “Before Cassie works out, I need to debrief her.”
Samir had, at least, heard about her invitation to join Manus Sancti. She could tell by the more sober look he gave her. “All right,” he said to Lucia. “Find me before you leave, almeris.”
At the far side of the gym, they met up with Gabi, who wore a black athletic top, matching loose cotton pants, and bare feet. She flashed a smile at Jonathan. “Ready for jiu jitsu?”
Cassie blurted out, “You’re fighting him?” Crap. She’d probably insulted her. “It’s just that he’s so much bigger than you. And he does that mixed martial arts stuff.” Gabi was also at least fifteen years older, though Cassie didn’t think that played into it so much. Hell, Gabi looked like an ad for gym membership or protein powder.
“Not really fighting,” Gabi said. “His ground game’s rusty, and that’s kind of my specialty.” She wiped at her brow with one end of her towel.
“Let’s do it,” said Jonathan. He paused to look back. “Ask a lot of questions,” he told Cassie, and then added to Lucia, “Don’t lie.”
The Scholar straightened. “That’s offensive.”
Jonathan took in a breath and looked like he might respond with something even more offensive, but instead he said in a gruff voice, “Sorry. I don’t like this, but it’s not your fault.” He turned and walked away toward the far ring. Gabi made a face like, All righty, then, and went after him.
Cassie told Lucia, “He doesn’t think I should join. We had a big fight about it.”
“I’m not surprised,” she admitted. “It is a dangerous life.”
They sat down in a couple of chairs not far from the ring, where Gabi demonstrated a move for Jonathan.
Lucia asked, “How are those Spanish videos?”
“Good. I love them.” Cassie watched Jonathan practice the move Gabi had shown him. “It seems like you can learn about anything here.”
Lucia’s eyes sparkled. “You have no idea. For a Scholar, there’s no better place. Or for a Mage, or a Knight. The resources we have—” She cut herself off with a glance at the practice ring. “But it truly isn’t my place to sing the praises of Manus Sancti, only to tell you about its history.”
“Jonathan said it started in the fourteen-hundreds.” This still sounded incredible to Cassie, but Lucia merely nodded.
“Yes, in Granada, Spain. At that time, the Nasrid dynasty had ruled the city for two centuries. Samir’s ancestors, in fact. But they didn’t require citizens to be Muslims, and learning was valued.
“Granada developed an intellectual society of Jews, Muslims, Christians, and even freethinkers who would’ve been condemned in most places as heretics. Scholars, alchemists, philosophers. Besides the Spaniards, Arabs, and Berbers, there were people from Paris, Sicily, and as far away as Egypt and Ethiopia. And all of these brilliant men—fifty or sixty altogether—met weekly to share their theories, translations, and discoveries with one another. It was like a spontaneous university.”
“Only men, though.”
Lucia gave Cassie a conspiratorial smile. “That soon changed. Manus Sancti was centuries ahead of the world when it came to welcoming women. Much of it was practical—some women had psychic talents that men didn’t. But I get ahead of myself. They weren’t Manus Sancti yet.”
In the practice ring, Jonathan bent halfway over Gabi, who lay on her back on the mats, attempting to pull him down by wrapping both of her legs around one of his. They broke and switched places.
Lucia said, “Among this group of intellectuals in Granada were several men with psychic abilities. Jewish mystics, a Christian priest, and others. Another man had translated old texts with magical spells that, as it turned out, worked. So you see, what we’re doing with the Phoenix Codex is something we’ve done for centuries.”
“Wait,” Cassie said. “The Phoenix Codex?”
Lucia flushed. “I’ve been calling it that. There’s the Dresden Codex and the Paris Codex, both named after the cities in which they’re housed and, well, your ancestors’ codex was housed in Phoenix for decades.”
In my mom’s basement. Cassie shook her head to dispel a sudden sense of disorientation.
“You don’t like the name,” Lucia ventured.
“What?” Cassie thought about the question. She’d named it after Cassie’s hometown, and it seemed like an acknowledgement that it belonged to her and her family. “No, I love it, actually.”
She smiled, her dimples flashing. “Good.” Cassie felt a sudden affection for the Scholar. Something told her they’d be good friends. Lucia explained that before long, Manus Sancti had begun what they now called missions.
Jonathan and Gabi rolled on the floor with their legs wrapped around each other. Cassie gestured toward them and asked, mostly joking, “Should I be concerned about this?”
“Not in the least. It’s just training. And everyone knows Jonathan’s excruciatingly monogamous.”
“Excruciatingly,” Cassie repeated. She didn’t know what amused her more—that particular word, or the fact that everyone seemed to know about one another’s sex lives. “Okay, go on.”
Lucia nodded. She explained that the name Manus Sancti referred to no particular religion, but to the sacredness of their calling to fight supernatural evil. Although they tried to operate in secret, southern Spain had come under Catholic rule, and a Catholic-sounding name seemed like a good idea. Their group spread to Portugal, Morocco, Algeria, Italy, and Greece. “By the dawn of the twentieth century, we were all over Europe and the Middle East, in many parts of Africa, in Russia, the Americas…we’d just started spreading to China.”
“World War One must have been awkward,” Cassie quipped.
Her forehead creased. “It was terrible.” She reacted as though it were her own memory. Maybe Scholars took history more personally.
Cassie wanted to turn to a less painful subject. “Here’s something I keep wondering. How in God’s name do you all have so much money?”
She laughed. “For centuries, we had people with the gift of divination. They made brilliant investments. And in modern times, we have algorithms and certain inside sources that predict the market quite well.”
Cassie nodded. “How many people do you have in total?”
“About ten thousand. A thousand right here, and the rest scattered in guaridas across the globe. But most are in supporting roles. We have fewer than eight hundred Knights, and only about five hundred Mages. Real psychic talent is all too rare.”
“You must be growing in numbers,” Cassie said. “Hardly anyone ever leaves, and you recruit new people like me…” She trailed off at Lucia’s pained expression. “You also lose a lot of people.”
“Let me be completely clear.” Lucia leaned forward, her expression earnest. “The cost is enormous. Mages are prone to psychological breakdowns and have a high suicide rate. And one-sixth of all Knights die on missions before they retire.”
Cassie swallowed. It was worse than she’d expected. She looked over at the practice mat where Jonathan and Gabi still writhed on the floor. Gabi had one leg hooked around Jonathan’s neck and appeared to be trying to pop his head off in the crook of her knee.
She shuddered and turned her attention back to Lucia, who asked, “Have you decided against joining now?” Her tone suggested there would be nothing wrong with that.
“No. How many people do you recruit a year?” With those odds, many people would probably turn them down.
“Maybe a couple dozen a year, mostly Knights and Mages.”
“I didn’t know I was so special,” Cassie said weakly.
Lucia stared at her. “You’re the rightful owner of one of the rarest documents on earth, and you’re one of the heirs to its magic.”
Cassie gave a half laugh, shaking her head. “I’m an ordinary, unemployed, divorced lady.”
“These things are not contradictory.”
Lucia hadn’t told her everything. Cassie asked, “What else is in the codex?”
The Scholar dropped her head. “It is yours, and you have the right to know. But I don’t recommend discussing it with Jonathan, at least not today. It won’t make things any easier.”
Gabi and Jonathan had taken a water break. Gabi was gesturing as she talked, perhaps describing a defensive move, and Jonathan looked relaxed for the first time since Cassie’s fight with him. “Yeah, I’ll hold off on that,” Cassie promised Lucia. “What does it say?”
“Much of it is devoted to describing an ancestor of yours and his particularly epic ball game.”
“Seriously?”
Lucia shrugged. “The ancient Mayans loved their sports. And you already know about the famine spell—which may not work, but we don’t recommend your trying it, anyway.”
The woman was hedging. “What else?”
“Well,” Lucia said, “although you’re not exactly what we’d call an earth elemental—someone with a magical connection to the earth or stones and crystals—there may be a spell that allows you to use obsidian to make you immune to any psychic attack, including demon possession.”
“Whoa.” Cassie had heard enough about their missions to understand how powerful that might be.
“I’ve written out the spell in English syllables, just as your great-grandfather did with the animal spell. The text is so ancient, it’s difficult to know if I’m getting it right. That’s why I want Lorenzo in Aquileia to take a look. I would’ve been unsure of the animal spell, too, except in that case, I already know it works.”
“We should try it,” Cassie said.
She held up a warning hand. “If I’m reading it correctly, doing the spell also brings up an onslaught of self-hatred that’s difficult to survive. According to the text, the spell caused the last person to kill himself on the spot.”
“Oh my God.” That was a hell of a side effect. “Why? Nothing bad happens to me with the animal spell.”
“We’re still researching, but I believe it’s integral to the working of the spell. The language is something like… For an hour, conquer the demons within. For a day, no demons may conquer you.” She gave a rueful smile. “It is, as they say, a feature, not a bug.”
Cassie tried to wrap her head around this. “So it wouldn’t last forever, anyway.”
“A day at most, and maybe much less. We don’t recommend experimenting any time soon.”
“No. It sounds like things are dangerous around here enough.” She considered the mortality rate of Knights and Mages again. “If you only recruit a couple dozen people a year, you guys must actually be getting smaller.”
“Ah, well. I was talking about active recruiting. Some people marry sonámbulos, and to do this, the outsider needs to join.” She smiled. “It’s hardly discouraged. We would have a very shallow gene pool if it didn’t happen. The sonámbulos almost always take a safe, non-specialized job, and of course, some choose to be full-time parents.”
Something clicked in Cassie’s brain. Was this what Jonathan wanted? For her to stay with him, but out of harm’s way? She’d been angry and hurt that he hadn’t welcomed the opportunity to keep her near, especially after startling her by declaring his feelings like he had. But maybe he’d seen a less dangerous way to keep her close.
Why hadn’t he said so?
Of course he hadn’t. Why would he talk about a future together when she hadn’t even said she loved him back?