Chapter Forty-Seven
T he early autumn night chilled my bones as I trekked through a sea of people on 87 th Street. Nobody paid attention to the girl in scarlet, the cape wrapped securely around my frame, the hood covering the dark shadows under my eyes. My dagger was strapped tightly to my hip, hidden from any wandering eyes. Regardless, if they avoided my vacant stare, people tended to observe one’s attire and judge. Fashion in New York City needed to make a statement, and if they noticed anything out of the ordinary, it would show up on a fashion blog the next day.
And that wouldn’t fly with the Order.
I left the cathedral in haste after the death of Asher, making sure nobody saw my departure, slipping out the side exit, running for the hills, or in this case, the streets of New York City. The others mourned, while I remained on the hunt to find Heather.
Father Benedict found demon residue underneath Asher’s lifeless body, indicating that Heather was removed before his murder. By what, we didn’t know.
But I needed answers, and the Order tended to pick and choose what they wanted us to know. And I refused to be in the dark any longer.
My home rose high in the city skyline, bright lights casting on me like a spotlight on Broadway. If I guessed correctly, and judging by when I left campus, my mother sat in the kitchen on a stool, reading one of her many Better Homes magazines with a glass of red wine.
And if luck were on my side, she would be the only one home.
Entering the building, surprised to find the lobby scarce, I took the elevator, watching the floors rise until I reached the level of the penthouse. The front door to my home mocked me as I approached, turning the knob ever so slightly so as not to alert my mother, and slipped inside undetected.
Silence came from every corner as I observed the few feet before me. I took a deep breath, calming my nerves and silencing the negative thoughts that tried to overtake my courage. Then I went through the rooms, trying my best not to make a sound and found my mother just where I knew she was. Hunched over, reading, a full glass of wine in hand. Her blonde hair flowed down her back in waves, and the smell of Dior rose from the oils of her skin, filling the room with familiarity and comfort. I bit my lip, watching her adjust on the stool, flipping through the glossy pages and tapping her foot against the island with her Sperry boat shoes. The wedding ring my father gave her glistened in the light on her freshly manicured nails.
Little did she know her only daughter stood under the threshold in Scarlet gear, a dagger hung on her hip. I refused to hide what she kept to her goddamn self for so long.
I cleared my throat, not at all surprised to see her glued to her phone. Her head snapped up and her eyes narrowed when she spotted me. “Nice of you to show your face."
I pushed off the threshold. Apparently, we were taking the hostile approach to this conversation. “Mom, we need to talk.”
“About you abruptly leaving dinner and ignoring every text and phone call from your father and me?” She typed away, not bothering to look at me as she went back to her phone screen. “Please, Remi, tell me you have a riveting excuse for your terrible behavior.”
Reeling in my anger before I smashed her favorite expensive China set, I took another step toward her. “You want me to apologize? Sure, I’m sorry, but that’s not why I’m here.”
She laughed, typing once more. “I should fault myself for raising such an inconsiderate child.”
Ignoring the sting of her words, I pressed on. “Mom, for once, please listen. This is important.”
Her laugh returned, mocking me as she said, “I let you have your summer. I let you gallivant around with your friends in the city doing I don’t know what, but somehow, it turns into me not listening.”
“Mom,” I said again.
“Never thought I would have such an ungrateful child. After everything I’ve done for you and continue—” I unstrapped the dagger from my hip and slammed the point of it right on her expensive marble counter, cracking it all the way through like a spider web. The light hit the blade, reflecting against my mother’s pale complexion.
“Remi,” she whispered.
I shook the hood off my head, letting her see the heavy bags under my eyes. “The truth, Mom.”
With a trembling bottom lip, my mother held her hand close to her chest as if struggling to catch her breath and said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You and I both know what I mean.” I rounded the island, making it clear I wouldn’t back down. “Please.”
Sadness clouded her vision, but she remained glued to the stool. “I never thought…” She trailed off, unable to form the right words.
Removing the dagger from the marble, I sheathed it back in place. “Grams’ will.”
Anger destroyed her features as if I had slapped her. “Your grandmother said it was over. I only sent you to the school because she’d already paid for it. You would’ve been halfway across the country if I’d known.”
“Why me and not Aiden?” I questioned.
Her mouth was set in a hard line as her eyes flickered back and forth. “I don’t know.”
“But he never attended?” Something wasn’t adding up.
“We hoped that your brother would fail, as he did. You will too. But your grandmother told me that the Order had fallen and was no more. I forbade her to tell you any of this.”
“Were you ever tested?”
“Yes.”
I guess she also failed, considering the lack of information she gave me. Dean Poverly’s lecture on genes and bloodline filtered through my mind, but that didn’t explain Grams’ reasoning.
Why would she lie? The answer was hidden somewhere beneath the altered truth, and I wondered…
“Where are her things?”
“Remi, please don’t let your grandmother’s actions ruin your future.”
I recoiled. “She may have had faults, but you lied to me.”
“I had my reasons.”
“And now I have mine. Where are her things?”
My mother’s eyes darted from my face to the kitchen doorway.
“Goddammit, Mother. Where are her things?”
She sighed a shaky breath. “Remi.” Her eyes looked behind me as if waiting for someone to rescue her.
“Mom, don’t make me tear up the entire place to find it.”
She held up her hands in defense. “Okay, okay. Come with me.”
I couldn’t wrap my head around her bizarre behavior. Why was she so reluctant to give me her mother’s things? Was she scared of me? Of how easily I destroyed her beautiful countertop? I might have enticed some fear.
Not wasting another second, I followed my mother as she exited the kitchen and climbed to the second floor, stopping just before her master bedroom. Her shoulders slumped slightly forward in defeat, realizing now that she couldn’t go back and save her daughter. I didn’t need saving; I had already accepted my fate. It took a while, but I did, and now I had only one mission. To save the world.
Over her shoulder, she gave me one last look before unlocking the door. “Whatever you find, keep it to yourself.” She stepped aside to let me pass and said, “Inside the walk-in closet, underneath the rack of my heels, you’ll see a brass handle. Lift that, and you’ll find everything you need.”
I nodded once and left her standing in the hallway, her eyes boring into my back. An invisible hand reached for me, but I continued, never looking back.
Flicking the closet light on, I found rows and rows of expensive designer clothes, ranging from Gucci to Prada and Burberry hanging on velvet hangers. My mother’s closet was her shopping plaza, color-coordinated and organized by pant length and shirt style. One-of-a-kind Birkin bags were displayed neatly on top shelves, matching the color scheme below, and a center island boasted exotic perfumes in weirdly shaped bottles. On any other day, I would have browsed or tried things on, but my days of carefree activities were numbered. Now, I hid in the shadows to hunt demons.
Heading toward the back, I found the stationary shoe racks and rows of five-inch heels in various colors and patterns. I dragged some heavy frames aside, finding the brass handle as she said underneath. Carved in an intricate piece, I tugged, hearing a clicking sound as it opened. Deep inside, an expansive box covered in dust sat in the center. I expected more but had a sneaky suspicion my mother had discarded the rest.
Picking it up and blowing the dust off, I cut through the heavily taped top with my dagger. In an off-white envelope, my name had been written in an elegant script. My heart tightened, realizing my grandmother had meant to leave me her belongings.
Careful not to ruin the letter inside, I took my finger and gently tore through the fold.
My breath caught in my throat as the first few words hit me.
Dear sweet Remi,
I bet you’re wondering right now how this could be true. How could a kind and powerful man let us live in a world with such evil? I wondered about that myself for a very long time. But we can’t blame those trying to mend the world’s wrongs. All we can do is take one day at a time and guide the lost ones home. We hope to make a difference, no matter how small, hoping that’ll be enough to correct past mistakes.
But you, my sweet Remi, can make that difference.
Somewhere along the way, a path had been chosen just for you. Your purity has been blessed at birth because of the power you naturally possess.
That is why only you, Remi, can know what I’ve hidden.
Because she who wields, the rest shall follow.
All my love,
Grams.
At the bottom of the note were latitude and longitude coordinates marking a place on the map that Grams ensured only I would see.
But it was the last line that shook me to my core.