Chapter 27
Turned out, neither of us could sleep much, anxiety gnawing at our nerves. We ended up fully dressed, balanced on the edge of the motel bed, re-checking messages. Nothing new. The clock ticked, each passing minute intensifying the dread.
Around four a.m., we quietly left the room, paid for the short stay, and headed out into the moonlit streets. The city’s nightlife glimmered in the distance, but we stuck to deserted sidewalks, every sense on alert. We flagged a ride-share, using a random alias in the app, directing it to drop us at a discreet wooded area near campus.
The driver, a cheery woman in her thirties, chatted about the college, oblivious to the conspiracies unraveling there. Anubis responded politely, while I kept watch on the roads. Before long, we were near the outskirts of Edenvane property. We asked the driver to stop, claiming we’d walk the rest of the way to meet friends.
She shrugged, drove off. We were left in the hush of the predawn, a silent forest pressing in on either side. My heart pounded.
“Let’s do this,” Anubis said quietly. “Stay close. We watch each other’s backs.”
I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Right.”
We navigated along a back trail, following a faint path that snaked between tall pines. The hush was eerie, no wind, no chirping birds yet. Overhead, the sky lightened from black to charcoal.
After twenty tense minutes, we crested a small rise, and the Boathouse came into view below, its silhouette mirrored in the dark river. The “old chapel” sat deeper in the forest behind the Boathouse, a decrepit stone structure rumored to date back to Edenvane’s earliest days. Few official records mentioned it.
If the watchers or new Skulls faction are there, we’re heading straight into their lair. Fear bit me, but I pressed on, thinking of my mom’s picture.
We circled wide around the Boathouse, mindful of vantage points. No obvious watchers. The chapel was partially hidden by overgrowth, stained-glass windows broken, roof sagging. A single lantern glowed near the entrance.
My phone read 5:45 a.m. Dawn was minutes away. The sky tinted purple.
As we approached, my pulse thundered in my ears. Anubis squeezed my hand in silent reassurance. The chapel door, carved oak and heavy with age, stood ajar.
Inside, I spied flickering torchlight dancing along stone walls. I braced myself, stepping in. The stench of mold and damp assaulted me. Decaying pews lined the sides, and at the far end, where an altar might have been, stood a cluster of figures in black coats. I counted five, all wearing half-masks in that stylized skull shape. Each had a luminous brand on their left shoulder, visible through a slit in the coat or rolled-up sleeve. The new order, indeed.
One stepped forward, peeling off his half-mask. My stomach lurched the robed man from the crypt ceremonies, the same who threatened me over the phone. He dipped his head in mock courtesy. “Nubia, Captain Edenvane. Glad you came.”
Anubis scanned the group warily. “Where’s my mother? Where’s her proof of safety?” I asked, voice shaking with anger.
The robed man smirked. “Impatient. You’ll see soon enough. First, we must finalize your oath to us. The old order is crumbling, thanks to your leaks and sabotage. We’ll build a stronger society in its place, forging a new era for the Edenvane line.”
Anubis clenched his fists. “Your ‘society’ murdered Toccara, threatened Suede’s mother, and performed twisted gene experiments. Why would we join you?”
A second figure spoke up, voice distorted behind the mask. “Because you have no choice. The Dean’s influence wanes. Sophie is incapacitated. We hold your mother, Divore, as leverage. That’s how these things work, yes?”
My vision blurred with hatred. “You have no right.”
Another masked figure raised a hand. “Silence. We propose a deal: you come fully under our banner, reveal any allies who remain in the old order or the Undercurrent. We spare your mother, and you two ascend to our top ranks. The Edenvane line must lead. We respect blood.”
I trembled, remembering the genealogical file showing my possible tie to the Edenvanes. “I’ll never join you,” I hissed.
The robed man snarled. “Then your mother—”
He stopped short as a new presence slid through the chapel door behind us. My heart leaped, thinking it might be Kate or a detective. Instead, it was Dr. Lansing , wearing a hooded cloak over her lab coat, face grim. She carried a small metal case, reminiscent of those silver syringes.
“Dr. Lansing,” I breathed, shock colliding with relief and fear. “What are you doing here?”
She moved past us, ignoring my question, heading toward the robed man at the front. “It’s time,” she said softly, opening the case. Inside lay two silver syringes filled with a faintly glowing substance.
My stomach churned. The gene therapy formula?
The robed man nodded. “Precisely. We’ll anoint the new generation. No more half-measures. We strengthen those with the Edenvane blood—Captain and Nubia both. Their lineage is key.”
Anubis’ eyes widened in horror. “You’re insane. I’m not letting you inject us with that toxic formula.”
Dr. Lansing’s expression flickered with guilt. “I told you, I didn’t want this. But they forced my hand. They threaten my family if I don’t comply. They want to test the final formula on you two, the ‘ideal subjects.’”
A swirl of betrayal. “You said you’d fix things, Lansing!”
She shook her head helplessly. “The new order is more ruthless than the Dean. They hold all the research data. If I sabotage this, we’re all dead.”
I scanned the group, searching for any sign of my mother. “Where is she?”
The robed man chuckled, flipping open his phone. He displayed a live feed video: my mother, Ambrosia, pacing in a cramped hotel room that looked unfamiliar. Rock sat in the corner, scowling. A watcher loomed behind them. My mother’s expression was terrified as she glanced at the camera.
A sob tore from my throat. “Mom.”
“Agree to the injection,” the robed man said coldly. “Or we end them. And if you resist, we do it by force, anyway.”
Tears blurred my vision. Anubis touched my arm, silently asking if we had any better plan. My mind raced. Could Kate be outside with the cops? Would they burst in?
We hesitated. Dr. Lansing loaded the syringes, voice trembling. “We must do it now, or they’ll kill us all. I’m sorry.”
Just as the robed man grabbed my wrist, a crash echoed at the chapel entrance. The door banged open. Two uniformed police officers burst in, guns drawn, followed by another figure brandishing a phone camera—Kate.
“Police! Drop the syringes! Everyone on the ground!” one officer barked.
Chaos exploded. The robed man snarled, lunging for me, trying to yank me in front of him as a shield. I elbowed him, fueled by desperate adrenaline, and he lost his grip. Anubis tackled another watcher who tried to bolt. Dr. Lansing dropped the syringes, which clattered on the stone floor.
Shots rang out, bullets splintering ancient pews. The masked figures scattered, some returning fire with concealed weapons. My ears rang with the thunder of gunshots in the confined space. Kate ducked behind a pew, filming the altercation. The police advanced cautiously, pinned by the robed group’s positions.
Some watchers near the altar flung themselves through a side door. The lead robed man cursed, scrambling to recover the phone that displayed my mother’s live feed.
I lunged, aiming to grab it. If I could show the cops that video, they’d see Mom’s location. But the robed man whirled, swinging a backhand. Pain burst across my cheek, and I tumbled to the damp stone floor. The phone skittered away.
Anubis roared, tackling him before he could strike me again. They wrestled, fists flying. The phone lay inches from my hand. Gritting my teeth, I scrambled forward, ignoring the surrounding chaos. Another shot ricocheted off a broken pew. Kate cried out, “Watch out!” to someone.
I closed my hand around the phone, rolling to one side. A bullet whizzed overhead, lodging in the altar. Heart pounding, I tapped the phone’s screen, praying it was still streaming. Yes—Ambrosia’s feed stuttered, but it was live.
Struggling upright, I stumbled behind a broken pew for cover. A policeman spotted me, gesturing. “Ma’am, stay down!”
“Officer!” I shouted, waving the phone. “They have my mother hostage. The location might be on this phone.”
The policeman, older with a buzz cut, half-lowered his weapon. “Give it here.”
I slid it across the stone floor. He grabbed it, ducking behind a pew for cover. Another masked figure tried to shoot him, but the policeman’s partner returned fire, striking the figure’s shoulder. A pained scream echoed.
Anubis and the robed man still grappled. The man’s mask fell away, revealing a twisted snarl. “Traitor,” he spat at Anubis. “You had the blood, you could’ve led us.”
Anubis grunted, hooking a punch across the man’s jaw. “I choose my own path,” he growled, voice hoarse. A policeman tackled them both, forcing them apart, guns aimed.
The robed man slumped to the ground, panting. Another policeman pinned his arms behind him. “You’re under arrest,” the officer barked, reading him his rights while the man glared daggers at us.
A quick glance around showed Dr. Lansing cowering behind the altar, hands raised. Another watcher lay on the floor, clutching a wound. The rest had fled. Kate emerged, phone camera pointed at the scuffle, capturing every second.
Then a frantic cry: “Officer, over here!” The policeman with the robed man’s phone stepped into the open, addressing a detective who’d just arrived. “We’ve got a live feed of hostages.”
I pressed both hands to my mouth, tears threatening again. They can save Mom. My legs shook, relief mingling with shock.
Within moments, a swirl of uniformed officers flooded the chapel, securing the scene. Paramedics arrived to treat the injured watchers. Dr. Lansing surrendered, tearfully begging for leniency. She told the cops about the forced gene therapy research, the blackmail, everything. Kate kept filming, tears in her eyes too, probably for the Howler or the Undercurrent’s archives. Hell, she was the brave journalist I’d always wanted to be. Maybe she would win a Pulitzer for this story.
One of the detectives recognized Anubis. “Captain Edenvane? We’ve been wanting to talk to you about the Dean and Toccara’s case.”
Anubis exchanged a grim nod. “We’ll cooperate fully. Just help rescue her mother.”
I stood there, arms wrapped around myself, the brand on my shoulder still burning from tension. My cheek throbbed where the robed man struck me, but I scarcely cared. It was almost over.
In the next hour, I learned from scattered conversations that the police traced the phone’s location, dispatching a squad to free my mom in a suburban motel. The robed man and two watchers were arrested on charges ranging from kidnapping to attempted murder. Dr. Lansing was detained, but an empathetic detective said she might avoid the worst if she cooperated.
Kate gave me a fierce hug. “We did it,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “We got the cops here just in time.”
I clung to her, tears dampening my cheeks. “You saved my life—my mom, too. Thank you.”
She shook her head, choked up. “All of us made it happen, Suede. Toccara’s story will finally come out. We’ll force them to release the files, hold them accountable.”
I turned to find Anubis. He stood speaking with a detective, describing the caretaker’s cottage and the genealogical manipulations. He spotted me, excused himself, and hurried over. Without a word, he pulled me into a hug so tight I could barely breathe.
“It’s ending,” he murmured, voice raw. “We’re free.”
I buried my face in his chest, inhaling the scent of sweat and relief. Free. The word felt foreign. Could it really be that the Skulls’ stranglehold was broken?