Twisted Sister of Mine

"Some want to give you a medal for what you did to Maximus. They think it's pretty clear Maximus's organization, Blood Rush, committed the massacres at our schools, not the Red Syndicate." His lips pressed together in a tight line for a moment. "Then again, there are hawks who favor war with the vampires. They claim there's no evidence Maximus had anything to do with the massacres. In fact, they think he was a scapegoat and you were a willing accomplice of the Red Syndicate to frame him."



"They just want blood, pure and simple," Shelton said. "It ain't about justice. It's about revenge."



The Red Syndicate governed the vampire nation. During the Maximus conflict, their ambassador had approached Elyssa, asking her to put him in touch with me. "Do they want me arrested?"



Jarrod shrugged. "It's not clear what they want. But it appears they waited too long to decide."



I pinched my eyebrows. "How so?"



"The Daemos," Shelton said with a sense of grim satisfaction. "The Conclave can't do jack crap to you because you're considered part of the Daemos nation now that your dad had you raised from Castratae to Cenae."



Jarrod made an appreciative sound. "Very good, Harry. I guess you do have political savvy beneath that rough exterior."



"I'm not a snake like you," Shelton growled. "Maybe old man Conroy will finally decide he wants your post. He might be an evil old bastard, but at least he's honest about it."



"Would it make you happy to see me out of office?" his father said.



Shelton's voice went cold. "I don't know that anything would make me happy at this point."



The family drama tightened my stomach like drum. I prayed the sky car would land soon. "Do the Conroys participate in politics?" I asked, hoping to keep Shelton from inflaming the situation.



"No, your grandfather and I have always been at odds," Sager said.



He obviously didn't know my mom was an angel if he thought Jeremiah was my grandfather, but I played along. "Is there anything you don't know about me?"



"Plenty." He cast a sideways glance at his son and turned back to me. "I'd like to sit down with you in a formal setting very soon. We need details on the Vadaemos and Maximus incidents, and we'd like to talk to you about your mother, Alice. She's been seen with the Conroys, but nobody has been in contact with her."



"What do you want with my mom?"



"First of all, she's a very powerful and respected member of the arcane community, but secondly—"



"He's not gonna sit down and give you guys an interview," Shelton said. "So buzz off."



I'd been thinking along similar lines as Shelton but in slightly more diplomatic tones.



"You never learn, do you?" Jarrod said, turning to his son. "You think having a big mouth and a gut full of bravado is going to get you through life, but it's not, boy. You need to use—"



"Manipulation?" Shelton said with a snort. "My attitude's gotten me this far."



His father made a scoffing laugh. "Into your thirties? That's not far."



"I'm twenty-six, Dad." Shelton said the last word with what seemed to be unholy hatred. "But if I make it into my thirties, I'll be more than happy to invite you to my next birthday party. We can wear party hats and watch family movies. Me and you and Mom and Martin—oh wait, that's right. Martin is dead. Guess my brother won't be able to make it after all."



I felt my eyebrows rise. Guess I'm not the only one with daddy issues.



Sager's face went pale at the mention of the name. I remembered the signature on the painting in Shelton's bathroom. Martin must be—have been—Shelton's brother.



The sky car bumped onto the ground, and the doors opened. Shelton grabbed me by the sleeve and literally dragged me after him while his dad stood there in white-faced anger, or shock. I couldn't tell which and didn't want to know. My own mind had gone numb at his words. In the last ten minutes I'd learned more about Shelton than I had in the past several months.



Shelton released my sleeve and walked in brooding silence to the doors leading back to the arch chamber. When we entered, it was obvious something was wrong. A group of grim-faced people stood inside the silver band circling the traversion zone of the Obsidian Arch. The arch appeared to be off, but a very familiar crack in the fabric of reality glowed within. Two women, staffs planted firmly on the polished floor, held hands and directed beams of light from the tips of their staffs into the rift. It appeared the light acted as a clamp to hold the rift open.



Wind howled inside the zone, whipping at the Arcanes' hair and robes. The other people inside appeared to be Templars wearing the skin-tight armor they usually favored, though it was bright red instead of the customary black. They formed a human chain, connected by what looked like diamond fiber rope tied to a huge anvil-shaped chunk of metal which apparently kept them anchored.



Unable to look away, despite knowing Shelton's father was probably standing somewhere behind us, I watched as a large gloved hand gripping the rope emerged from the rift. The other Templars hauled on the line. Seconds stretched to minutes, and finally the Templars helped a large man climb out of the rift, a young boy strapped to his back. Moments later, another Templar emerged with a woman strapped down to her back.



The Arcanes rapped their staffs against the floor, and the beams of light vanished. The sides of the rift collapsed with a thunderous boom.



"Oh, that was bloody close," muttered someone nearby.



I turned and saw the vampires with their protest signs watching the drama unfold, their protests forgotten for the moment.



A man shouted in joy and rushed inside the silver circle, gripping the woman and boy in tight hugs after the Templars unstrapped them. His tears glistened in the light. The security man who'd questioned me and Shelton earlier eclipsed the happy reunion by standing in front of the crowd and holding out his hands for silence.



"Until the cause of the Gloom rifts can be determined, the arch is closed," he said.



A chorus of groans went up from the crowd, and a few people shouted angry comments.



"I'm sorry," the man said. "But the risk is too high." He made eye contact with me and Shelton. "As I'm sure you are aware."



Shelton and I growled in unison.



I was dying to see Elyssa after the hard day, and to top things off, neither of us had packed a suitcase. At the very least, I wanted clean underwear and a toothbrush. I stepped away from the crowd and took out my arcphone. "Nookli, dial Elyssa."



"Dialing," my phone replied in a mellifluous voice.



It rang several times before she answered and said in a low whisper. "Justin, I can't talk. The trial started, and I'm in a very serious situation right now."



"Sorry," I whispered back. "I'm stuck at Queens Gate. I just—"



"Are you okay?" she said, her whisper sounding concerned. "The virus isn't—"



"No, I'm fine, sweetie. Um, kick ass, okay?"



"You're sure? I'll abandon this and come right now if you want me to."



"No, don't!" I said. "Really, everything is great."



I heard shouts in her background and a tremendous roar. "Uh-oh," Elyssa said. "Guess they heard me." She made a smooching noise. "I love you, Justin. Call me immediately if you need me." Another roar sounded, and the line went dead.



A frantic knot of worry bowled up my throat. What the hell had roared at her? What terrible things were the Templars doing to her? I took deep breaths, somehow managing to quell my rising panic. Elyssa was a total badass. She could take care of herself—I hoped.



"Well ain't this dandy," Shelton said. "Guess we're stuck here."



To keep myself from pouting about Elyssa, I forced myself to think about something else. "I wonder what's causing these Gloom cracks to appear all of a sudden."



Shelton looked toward the stables. The layout of Queens Gate station looked very similar to the one at the Grotto, so I knew what he was thinking before he even said anything.



"The operator might know," I said.



Shelton nodded. "I wonder if it has something to do with this Darkwater project of the Conroys."



We headed toward the control room, passing by the Templars and Arcanes who'd rescued the mother and son from the Gloom, and headed around the back of the stables. The control room door here at Queens Gate was hidden in about the same spot as the one in the Grotto. Shelton opened it and found two operators immersed in an intense conversation.



"I'm with Darkwater," Shelton said without preamble. "Mind telling me what the hell is going on with the arches?"



I had to admire how ballsy Shelton was with this subterfuge. Then again, he probably used it all the time with his bounty hunting.



The two operators glanced over at Shelton. One of them spoke. "I explained matters to Mr. Conroy. These sorts of anomalies are to be expected. We haven't used these arches in centuries because they're unstable," he said, waving a hand toward the rows of smaller black arches identical to the ones I'd seen at the Grotto.



The other man stepped forward. "We told him there must be damage at the other end. Thunder Rock was abandoned for a reason and trying to use one of these arches to get there might be more dangerous than sending an expedition in a more conventional manner."



My chest went cold at the thought of anyone wanting to wade through the horrors lurking in the water and caves in that accursed place, but I held back the next question begging to escape my lips, namely, why in the world did Jeremiah Conroy want to go to Thunder Rock? If I asked such a question, the operators would know we had nothing to do with Darkwater.



Shelton was a step ahead of me already. "What I don't get is what the old man expects once we get there."



The operators paused, glancing at each other as if wondering how we wouldn't know. They seemed to shrug off the doubt, though, and one of them spoke. "All he told us was there's a special arch there that he wants the arcane engineers to get working." The operator shrugged. "He won't tell us anything else."