Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
TOM
Ihit the Enter key and check that the change to the spreadsheet saves. “Done.” Leaning back in the chair, I stretch my arms over my head and feel the muscles protest in my back. “Let me take a bathroom break, and then I’ll start pulling charts and reports.”
“You’re amazing,” Gabe says, and Connor makes a gagging sound, earning himself a jab to the ribs.
“It’s just a spreadsheet,” I say modestly as I head toward the bathroom, but this last week has been a lot of work.
When app-designer Dylan heard what’s happening, he not only pulled anonymous numbers for us, he also set up an emergency notification to go out to everyone over the age of eighteen in the trainee network, highlighting the need for secrecy and laying out all they needed to know. The response was overwhelming.
Not only is the next generation of the Collective dedicated to protecting humanity from demons, they’re also smart. They pay attention, they’re underestimated, and they’re determined not to lose the world to Cato and his legions.
They’re also champion snoops.
Within hours, information started flooding in.
We now have a much clearer idea of how many people within the Collective have gone over to the other side.
It does primarily seem to be within the same generation—as though once Cato did his initial recruiting, he left any follow-up to the humans, and they stuck to their peers.
A few names have come up that Gabe tells me are older or younger, but generally it looks like most of the traitors are aged between fifty and seventy.
The trainees have no problem going through their parents’ and grandparents’ desks, checking browser history and deleted emails, and listening in on private phone conversations.
This generation is going to whip the world into shape, if only because their parents don’t have the sense to delete incriminating emails and messages…
or if they did, they forgot to delete the cloud backups.
One spreadsheet is now full of all the traitors’ personal information and links to a database containing their communications.
There’s been a lot of chatter in the past month about things coming to a head soon, but from what we can tell, Cato hasn’t set a date yet. Or if he has, it’s not being discussed.
Another sheet in the same workbook contains all the trainee information.
Who’s a full-fledged hunter, where the others are in their training, who we’ve earmarked to give energy support to Gabe, where everyone is located.
Connor’s put together an action plan that details everything people need to do when the attack begins—who needs to be ready for Gabe to draw power, who needs to coordinate with the local compound leaders, who needs to protect those groups so they can do that, who needs to lead the strike back against the demons.
We’re as ready as we can be, and we’re using this time for Gabe to practice linking with others.
Things are looking up. Well… as up as they can look with legions of demons set to invade at an unspecified time in the near future.
At least Marc brought back good news. Apparently he and his friends spent about twenty hours doing complex and esoteric mathematical equations and determined that yes, once Gabe starts the process of rebuilding the barrier, it will kick in and help, picking up speed as it goes.
According to their calculations, the entire barrier will be complete within just a few hours.
The rest of us just have to prevent demons from destroying everything for that long.
Assuming their theory is right, that is. It’s just one more thing we can’t prove for sure until it happens.
I’m washing my hands when Gabe calls, “You want coffee, Tom?”
“Yep!” God, yes. I’ve drunk more coffee this week than I can ever remember drinking before, and I’m pretty sure I have an addiction forming.
This will be my last for the day—dinnertime is sneaking up, and even though I’ve never had any trouble sleeping after coffee before, I don’t think it’s a good idea to chug caffeine before going to bed.
No matter how much Nonna insists that it’s normal.
When I emerge from the bathroom, Gabe’s pouring coffee and Connor’s nowhere to be seen. “Let’s go outside,” he suggests. “Marc’s back, and Jill and the others are on their way.”
I take my mug and follow him out. It’s an overcast, cool day, the clouds low. It’s not supposed to rain, but it wouldn’t surprise me if it did. Marc’s taken one of the porch chairs, as usual, and Connor, the boys, and Ewan are scattered across the rest of the porch and lawn in front of it.
“Done for the day?” I ask Ewan as I step over Ian’s legs stretched along the porch step.
He rubs his eyes. “Yeah. There’s some stuff that needs doing for the gift shop, but tomorrow’s school group canceled, so I’ll get it done in the morning.”
“Are you not sleeping?” Concern is heavy in Gabe’s voice, and I get it. Ewan looks exhausted.
“Not well,” he admits. “Josh keeps having these dreams.”
Every head except mine and Marc’s turns in his direction. “Dreams?” Connor demands. “What kind of dreams?”
Ewan shrugs. “He doesn’t know. He just thrashes a lot and wakes up yelling, but he can’t remember them.”
I look around at all the concerned faces. “I’m guessing the dreams are significant.”
“When a medium has the same dream consistently, yeah, it’s significant.” Connor’s face is grim.
“It might not be the same dream. He can’t remember them,” Ewan protests, but it’s weak.
“I’m surprised the ghosts haven’t heard him yelling,” Matt muses, and Ewan’s face relaxes as he laughs.
“Oh, they have. Josh told them that what we do in bed is none of their business, and now they think we’re practicing some kind of BDSM. Johnny asked if we were using handcuffs, and if so, did I make them myself.”
Hello, interesting factoid. “Can you make your own handcuffs?” I’ve seen some of the intricate work he does for the gift shop, so I’m guessing yes. I wonder how much it would cost for him to make a set of fancy ones for me and Gabe.
Ewan winks, then turns back to Connor. “Do I need to worry about Josh?”
“I’ll talk to him later, but these dreams won’t hurt him—except for the lack of sleep.” He flicks a glance at Marc. “I think it’s a pretty good sign that things are going to start happening soon, though. How long’s he been having them?”
“A week, maybe? A little longer—the first one I can remember was weekend before last.”
“Right before we worked out how Gabe was going to rebuild the barrier, then,” I point out.
Ian lets out a low whistle. “That seems like a sign to me.” He raises an eyebrow at Marc. “You said things seemed to be moving in the otherworld, too, right?”
The demon’s nod is curt. “Cato is mobilizing. Nobody seems to know for what, though, which is good for us. He’s keeping his plans secret from all but his closest companions, and maybe even them.
It’s causing a lot of confusion and resentment.
” His smile is small but mean. “My associates are taking advantage of that.”
I don’t know enough about demon politics to know if I should be glad or not. But I guess as long as Marc’s on our side, I want his side to win?
“But it’s likely to be soon?” Gabe presses, and he nods again.
“I’d say any day now. Be ready.”
“Where can we expect you to be when everything goes down?” Connor asks. Remembering the conversation from last week, I lean in slightly. It’s not likely Marc will actually fight with us, but I doubt he’d just fuck off and grab a coffee.
Probably.
Okay, he would. Which is why I want to hear his response.
“Wherever Cato is. As long as he still lives, you don’t have a hope of winning.” The bluntness of the statement threatens to kill all the hope I’ve been stockpiling. “As soon as he strikes, I and some friends will track him down.”
“And then?” Matt seems as fascinated by this as I am.
Marc shrugs. “What happens after that depends. Either I’ll go on to help assert control in the otherworld until a new leader more to my liking steps up, or I’ll be dead and Cato will wreak havoc on both worlds.”
Silence.
“Are you saying that after all those years I wanted you dead, now I have to hope you live?”
Marc smirks at Connor. “Isn’t life delightful?”
Con swears viciously. “I hate you so goddamn much.”
“That’s nice.”
Gabe steps forward and puts a hand on Connor’s shoulder.
I don’t think he was going to lunge at Marc, but who knows?
He’s been really restrained over the past two weeks, trying hard to play nice with the demon who nearly killed him.
The occasional slip-up is bound to happen. “Let’s all live to hate another day.”
I snort—my boyfriend is funny—and take another gulp of coffee as I look over the fields.
I can see Daniel in the near distance, probably doing his final checks of the day that no tourist left anything behind in his beloved crops.
He’ll be doing a big harvest soon—well, as big as it gets with small-scale farming—and according to Skye, there’ll be another busy patch for that.
For reasons unknown, tourists love to come and watch that stuff, maybe take a turn.
When we were in high school, our classmates whose families still farm in the area thought it was bonkers and—
My phone rings in my pocket, and I fish it out. Skye. He probably wants to know if Gabe and I are going to eat with him and Daniel tonight. I answer and say, “I’m just looking at your far—”
“Oh, hi!” he chirps, sounding surprised, even though he called me. I straighten, and Matt looks over. “Gabe not there?”
What the fuck? I wave for Gabe’s attention. Something’s not right, but how does he want me to answer? Is the call on speaker?
Before I can say anything, he continues, “Oh, okay. Look, if you can find him or Connor, could you tell them their parents have made a surprise visit and are here to see them?”
A chill runs down my spine. “Your parents are here.” I doubt Skye has me on speaker, since he’s been holding this conversation all by himself. “Skye, is anyone else with them?” The others crowd around me. Even Marc comes down from the porch and looks toward the house.
“No, that’s fine. Just if you see them. I’ll call Daniel next and see if they’re in the fields.” He ends the call before I can ask anything else.
“Your parents are here,” I repeat.
“Whose?” Connor asks.
“All of them? He said to tell you both. It seemed like they were listening, so he couldn’t say a lot, but I think it’s just them.”
“Stay here,” Gabe orders the boys. “Tom—”
“Fuck, no,” Ian exclaims. “Nope. Safety in numbers. Besides, I’ve got some stuff I wanna say to them.”
“We can’t have a public confrontation over this,” Connor grits out. “Holy shit, is the estate still open? Are there people here?”
My stomach churns and I look at my phone screen for the time. “Probably not, though the gates won’t be closed yet.”
“Josh said there were guests tonight,” Ewan adds.
“We need to move,” Gabe urges. “Skye, Kieran, and Josh are up there with guests and four people who betrayed humanity. Text Jill and tell her to get here faster.”
“Weapons,” Connor orders, and Matt and Ian go into the cabin.
“There are guests!” I argue. I get why they might need weapons, but… “Let me go. I’ll bring them down here.” That will give Skye the chance to warn Josh and Kieran and enact the plan.
The boys come out with a bunch of sheathed swords and knives. “Where’s your sword?” Matt asks Connor.
“In the crash room. I’ll make do.”
Fuck, we’ve been caught unprepared. Is it too much to hope that this is genuinely just a visit? Maybe they’re here because they want Gabe and Connor to join them, and they don’t know we know what’s in the offing.
I look around at the grim faces and let go of that hope. It’s much more likely someone in our circle or the trainee network has let something slip that they shouldn’t have.
“I’m going to the smithy, and then I’ll go in the back,” Ewan says. “I’ll call Daniel too. Hopefully we can keep everyone out of harm’s way.”
Gabe nods. “Let’s go.”