The Revealed Read online

  Soft string music plays in the background as some people dance and other groups of people around the room talk, keeping the noise level even.

  I find my father in the crowd. A glass of champagne in his hand, and he’s laughing. A grin spread wide across his face as he talks to Roderick Westerfield. And it isn’t his politician grin. It’s his real one. The one that makes him look like a dad. My dad. During the days of backyard barbecues and summer nights. Sure, Westerfield is my father’s competition and rival, but I sometimes forget there was a time when they were good friends. It dawns on me that the nostalgia must mean something to my father. There must be some part of Roderick Westerfield that my father still feels he understands. Well, I’m not clouded in my judgment of Westerfield. I don’t trust him, and I don’t like him.

  No one else is unsettled. They have all gone back to their business.

  Just like Kai said. We dance. The media gets their pictures. We all go home happy.

  Except I’m not happy right now. Is this—my eyes drift up and down Kai’s frame—what Rory meant when she said she met someone new last weekend? The idea makes me angry. She shouldn’t be going after someone like … him. I’ve told her all about Kai. I told her what he said about me. She’s my best friend. Shouldn’t she be on my side?

  Kai catches me watching him, and I curtly turn my gaze to Rory.

  Kai’s always flaunting around, making these big spectacles at events, smiling and acting like such the confident hero. Cocky, if you ask me. Girls swoon over him, and he eats it up. Did she say he came to her rescue? She should know better. It wasn’t to defend her honor or whatever bullshit he spews. It was for the attention. So he could play the hero and, at the end of the night, everyone would just love him even more.

  I glance back over at him through my eyelashes. Clearly, not as subtly as I thought. He’s still staring at me and our eyes meet again.

  He’s not even listening to Rory. But then, I guess, neither am I.

  I turn my attention to her words just in time to catch the end of her last sentence, “Your mom wants you. She’s up near the media line with your father. I think they’re going to take more pictures or something.” She shrugs and adds, “I have to get back to serving. Ilan’s having a fit in the kitchen. There are so many people. It was good seeing you again, Kai.” She whisks away, tray in hand.

  My eyes return to the crowd. At least Jeremy isn’t hovering nearby. But that probably just means he’s reported back to my mother about my “scene,” which is exactly why she wants to see me.

  “I have to go,” I blurt to Kai. I want to get lost in this party for just a little bit longer before my mother drags me back to reality.

  “Wait,” he says and grabs my hand, forcing me to turn and face him.

  “Look, I appreciate what you did,” I say, “the dance and all but….”

  “But what?”

  A grin pulls at the edges of his lips, and he tilts his head in playful amusement. I can’t tell what the expression means. It’s almost a replica of his father’s. Only, it’s also the opposite of the expression Westerfield wears. Kai’s is laced with sincerity and an authenticity I don’t understand. It nevertheless fills me with suspicion.

  “It was really good to see you again, Lily,” he says before I can finish my sentence. “It’s been a long time.”

  My face melts before I can harden my gaze. It’s then I realize my hair has fallen over my shoulder, my cheeks are bare all the way to my ears, lending myself like a book to his gaze. I’ve never felt so exposed in my life. And I want to pull my hands up, shy away from his look before his eyes can take in the sight of my face. I don’t want to watch his expression as he analyzes my appearance. I don’t want him to see me and find the disappointments.

  His eyes narrow and then his expression drops, yanking my chest and my lungs down with it.

  But his face doesn’t mock.

  Eyes widen. Jaw slackens. He doesn’t meet my gaze.

  What?

  Before I can verbalize the question, he’s grabbing my wrist.

  “Get down!” he yells, yanking me roughly to the floor.

  I catch sight of Marg Lancing, who shrieks. The room seems to take a collective shudder. My body vibrates with surprise. Everything suddenly comes into focus. People are dropping all around us. Glasses are tossed aside as something piercing and crashing pulses through the room.

  On the floor, Kai wraps his arms around me. My heart jumps into my throat. An attack? Are we being attacked? I peek through Kai’s arms at the commotion. The back windows of the ballroom are completely shattered, leaving piles of broken shards.

  The music stops, replaced by an orchestra of frantic screams as people recognize the danger, causing chaos.

  The doors slam shut on their own and something translucent creeps along the hinges, cracking as it climbs up the sides of the door. Ice. Ice is forming along the doors!

  My feet want to move. I scramble up, but Kai pulls me back to the floor. “Stay down,” he commands. A few people grab the door handles and try to open the doors, but they don’t budge.

  All of the glass in the ballroom explodes—champagne flutes, light fixtures, serving platters. Everything. A sharp wind whips through the room like a bomb. Blackness sweeps over us with only the dim moonlight left to illuminate the room.

  “Keep your head down!” Kai orders, and I tuck my face between my arms. Some of the flying shards hit my skin and I cringe at the sting, yelping as the pieces rake my flesh.

  When the glass stops raining again, I dare to glance up.

  My breathing is sharp and inconsistent. My limbs shudder uncomfortably, my muscles tensing repeatedly. I’ve felt this enough to know it’s caused by adrenaline. I just need to stay calm, take deep breathes.

  We’re under attack.

  And who knows what kind of attack. But it’s all-too familiar, this ducking under objects to protect ourselves from shrapnel.

  Kai helps me to stand. He snaps into some sort of soldier mode and has this look in his eyes that says he knows exactly what to do. I cling to that look, praying it’s real. He takes my hand and pulls me back along the wall, hiding us behind the crowds that are running away from the broken windows. Everyone has cleared the dance floor. The musicians have abandoned their instruments, which lay strewn about the hall.

  Kai grabs a napkin from a table and takes my wrist, blotting the tiny beads of blood on my arms. His jacket protected him. I wasn’t so fortunate. As he dabs the cuts, the pain settles in over my skin. I flinch at the sting, and my eyes water. Normally, I would snatch the napkin from him and tell him to shove off, but right now I’m too stunned. My eyes are shifting to everything around me. My vision adjusts to the darkness. The shadows dance along the walls as people scatter in frantic attempts to get away. If Kai wasn’t holding my arms, I probably would do the same.

  “I’m fine,” I mumble. We just need to get out of here. My eyes scan for a way out. There has to be a way out. This is my house. If anyone can get out of this room, it’s me.

  There’s movement just outside in the grass. Shadows shift as someone or something approaches the now-empty window frames. The hall falls silent and still as the uninvited visitors walk inside the room. As they step inside, a wind picks up and circles around the room as though it is alive. It whips through the crowd. My skin prickles with fear.

  As my eyes adjust to the moonlight, I glance over the outfits the new visitors are wearing—black pants and black tanks tops. Something shiny is embroidered over their hearts. It’s the silver symbol.

  These people are The Revealed.

  I’m not the only person that seems to have noticed.

  Stunned gasps fill the room.

  My father stands at the front of the crowd. Always the brave leader. “What do you want?” he shouts.

  Is this it? Are they going to take me right now? In front of everyone?

  A striking woman stands at the front of the group, and I can tell she isn’t someone you wan
t to mess with. She holds herself high, not the least bit afraid of anyone in the room—including security with their guns drawn, only waiting for the command. Her eyes scan the crowd.

  “Stay where you are or we’ll shoot,” Jeremy warns.

  The woman stops and gives him a stern, disapproving gaze. She flings out her hand and the gun is torn from Jeremy’s grip and slides across the floor. There is the sharp succession of cracks as weapons fire, but not one of the people in black fall to the ground. Instead, there is a light ping, ping as the bullets fall to the floor like rain, stopped mid-flight.

  I feel my limbs begin to shake all over again. Everyone’s heard stories about The Revealed’s abilities. But to see them used like this—as though they are simply an extension of their own bodies—is as stunning as it is terrifying.

  A hand reaches out to my face in the dark. “Look at me.” My eyes connect with Kai’s green-gold gaze. “Breathe.”

  Shakily, I nod and begin taking quick, shallow breaths.

  A man tries to make a run for it, sprinting through the broken glass. One of The Revealed reacts. He flicks out his wrist and a plant from outside comes twisting in through the broken pane. It wraps around the man’s waist and pulls him to the floor.

  Someone screams.

  They are controlling the plants, making them grow and move.

  “How—”

  Kai places a hand over my mouth, silencing me. He positions himself so that his body is in front of me, shielding me from view as much as possible. Sure he’s taller and broader, but I’m like a beacon in this dress.

  The woman’s attention snaps, and her gaze connects with mine. She tilts her head, staring at me. Suddenly I’m frozen.

  This is it. I’ve waited for this moment. Since the notes started arriving, I knew this time would come. I wish I could stand and be brave. But I can hardly remember how to breathe, let alone be valiant.

  But then her gaze moves past me to the rest of the crowd, scanning over everyone.

  “We’re only here for one,” she says. She doesn’t seem even the least bit fazed by the security. Their weapons are gone or out of bullets. They’re just as defenseless as the rest of us.

  Two of The Revealed break off, turning to the sides of the room and scanning the guests. They move quickly through the crowd, sweeping the room before returning to the others’ sides.

  My muscles tense until they ache. Kai, still standing in front of me, is gently pushing me back against the wall. The Revealed whip past us without stopping, and I know that despite Kai’s efforts, they see me.

  If it isn’t me, then who are they after?

  “I have to find Rory,” I say in Kai’s ear. His arm doesn’t give. “She’s eighteen, too.”

  I push against him but his grip is firm.

  “Kai.” My voice is foreign and cracked.

  “Gone,” one of The Revealed says to the woman at the front.

  “It appears so,” she says, and nods. “This isn’t the last time you’ll see us,” the blonde leader warns. “Let’s go,” she says to the rest of her group and they retreat out the windows again, quickly disappearing into the night.

  As they leave, the ice on the doors recedes. People yank them open and begin sprinting madly from the house. Security tries to follow The Revealed out into the night but can’t find their trail. Patrols are immediately dispatched to search the area, but I know they too will come up empty-handed. The Revealed never leave evidence.

  “Someone call the police,” my father orders.

  The media begin snapping pictures of the destruction. Jeremy finds me and grabs my shoulders. “Are you okay?”

  I look around the room. “This is not okay.” I try to keep my thoughts straight. “Rory. I need to find Rory.”

  “She’s fine,” Jeremy promises. “I just saw her in the kitchen. Ilan’s a mess though,” Jeremy’s ill-timed attempt at humor falls flat. He clears his throat and straightens out his shoulders. “Here,” he says, shrugging out of his jacket and wrapping it around my shoulders.

  I glance back at Kai. My eye contact is the only thanks I can muster before Jeremy takes me from the room.

  The night is clearly over.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  There are tabloid stories: at least a dozen of them the next day. Each one a front-page headline screaming different sensational tales.

  Lily Escapes Being Taken!

  ____

  Atwood House Destroyed in Revealed Blast Intended to Be Lily’s Demise!

  ____

  It’s Only a Matter of Time Before The Revealed Try Again!

  ____

  Will the North American Sector Finally

  Declare War Against The Revealed?

  I willingly stay inside, not wishing to be hounded by the press. Jeremy’s security team has managed to keep them off the estate so far.

  I didn’t think tightening security was possible, but my mother has found a way. She’s doubled the number of personnel assigned to the house and has detectives in and out for the next week, investigating every inch of the property. Not that they’ll find anything.

  No fingerprints. The Revealed didn’t touch anything, though they somehow managed to lock the doors, melt the barrels of heavy metal weapons, and shatter every piece of glass in the room. No footprints. There isn’t a single mark in the dirt outside the window. The cameras around the house went out during their entrance, so no footage of their break-in was collected. Their abilities make them ghosts.

  I switch off the news report on the television in my room. It’s almost over, and after the news ends the programming goes static until the next run of reports. I sink down onto my bed, shut my eyes, and slump back onto the pillows. My fingers trace along the tiny scabs all over my arms. They weren’t bad enough to warrant stitches, but they are a stark reminder of yesterday.

  Why didn’t The Revealed take me?

  I was right there. The blonde woman definitely saw me. The ones searching the crowd definitely saw me.

  The answers aren’t in my room so I head down the hall. My father’s home office is in the east wing. He stayed home today to manage the investigation. There is a high risk the destruction caused at the gala will cost him a few points in the polls, and my father is doing everything in his power to ensure that doesn’t happen. With the investigation pouring through every nook and cranny, any shred of evidence will help, but we don’t know much.

  His office is decorated with mahogany bookshelves. My father loves books. He has quite the collection of rare novels. During the war, saving books was the last thing on most peoples’ minds. Novels that were once available everywhere are now prized possessions. My father spent a small fortune on a few of the works in his collection. The dusty, sharp smell of paper hangs in the air.

  My father sits in his leather chair behind his hand-carved desk, concentrating on something on his computer. It’s one of those rare times when he’s alone, which means he’s working on something important. His eyes are narrowed on the screen and every few minutes he types something out rapidly. He doesn’t even look up from his computer, though I know he must have caught my movement.

  I know better than to interrupt him when he has that look in his eyes. His eyes are so light, the document on the computer screen reflects in them. I almost think that if I got close enough, I could read the words in his eyes.

  “Is it suppose to or supposed to?” he asks without looking up.

  “Supposed to,” I tell him leaning against the doorframe. “With a D.”

  “Right.” He nods, types, and then clicks before looking up at me. “What can I do for you, Lil?”

  “Just wondering if you’ve had any leads?”

  He sighs, and I know he’s a bit perturbed at the interruption though he’s holding back from admitting it. “None.”

  “What are you working on?”

  “Going over the notes Jeremy sent from the investigation. It seems like The Revealed exited the property to the south. We found evidence o
f tire tracks from some kind of Jeep or Range Rover that didn’t match the guest vehicles. The trail goes cold once they reach the main road. We took plaster casts of the treads and some dirt samples, hoping we might be able to pinpoint the car based on its tread or at least track where it has been. It’s a shot in the dark.”

  “What about the woman? The one at the front of the group? Who is she?” I ask.

  He shakes his head and says with a wave of his hand, “No one knows. It isn’t the first time we’ve seen her though. She appears to be some kind of leader. If we had records like we used to, we would have found these bastards by now.” My father never swears in public, and I always feel like I’m seeing this secret, real side of him when he slips around me. “As it is, everything is outdated since the war. We’ve depended on people to come forward to reregister of their own volition. She could be someone that was declared dead long ago. If I find anything, you’ll be the first to know.”

  I know my father too well to believe that’s true. I’m always the last to know anything important. But this isn’t just about the gala or The Revealed. It’s about me. The Revealed had a clear shot at taking me last night so why leave all those inky black notes and then pass up an opportunity like that? It surely would have drawn attention, and The Revealed have made it clear they love attention. The theatrics make me sick.

  “Do you still think they want to take me?” I ask my dad hesitantly.

  His eyes sharply flit to mine, then back to the computer, and finally rest on me again. He sighs. “I’m not taking any chances.”

  “But they could have taken me last night if they wanted, right? Maybe it’s a mistake and those notes weren’t serious or something.”

  My father’s dark eyebrows pull together. “That sounds like a stretch, Lil.”