INTEGRATION (Bonfire Academy Book Two) (Bonfire Chronicles) (33 page)

King Sebastian glanced over at me. I shook my head. He hadn’t actually said it; I’d just assumed it.

“Well, did she or not?” King Sebastian’s tone was spiked with frustration.

“No, she didn’t. I merely went to her office to get her permission to go, that’s all. And like I said, she gave it. I went, completed my assignment, came back, and am now trying to get my work done. So, if that’s all, I’d like to get on with it.”

“On whose behalf did you go to Manhattan, then?” King Sebastian asked.

Quinn displayed an impenetrably cool mask.

“Quinn,” I tried, keeping my voice soft, trying to appeal to the boy I once knew. “Why can’t you just tell us?” I held his gaze, hoping he’d feel my deep love. I’d always have that, even though I wasn’t in love with him anymore.

“Cordelia, I wish I could, but I can’t. Both of you must understand that I can’t break a confidence.”

I nodded. Yes, there was really no way around that.

King Sebastian wasn’t giving up though. “Well, perhaps you could help me with just one more thing?” He put his iPhone on Quinn’s desk. The phone played a recording. All that I could hear in the short, garbled recording was the old lady from the Waldorf yelling, “
You have to go back! I need you there for the next phase.
” Then a male voice said, “
Okay, will do
.” Next came the sounds of doors being slammed, then silence.

Like King Sebastian, I watched Quinn’s face as the tape played. I assumed that was the recording that King Sebastian had mentioned to me earlier. The male voice did sound a bit like Quinn’s, but it could have been anyone’s. Quinn didn’t flinch, nor did his expression change as he listened to it. When it stopped, he just raised his eyebrows and shrugged.

“Was that you on the recording?” King Sebastian persisted.

“Nope. Not me. Why would you think it was me?”

“It sounded like you.”

“Huh? No, definitely not me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a training session.”

We stood up, ready to go.

“Cordelia, can you stay for a moment? I’ll have someone bring her back to the Academy, Your Highness, so you needn’t wait.”

“Cordelia?” King Sebastian asked.

I was completely taken aback, but I had to take any opportunity to make things better between us. And Quinn asking to talk to me was a step in the right direction. “I’m good. I’ll call you later.”

Once we were alone, Quinn walked around his desk and perched on it, facing me. He took a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair. “I’ve missed you,” he said huskily.

I just looked at him, unsure what to say. I wanted to take his pain away, but I didn’t know how.

He shook his head. “Don’t say anything. But spend the afternoon with me, just hanging out. Okay?”

I nodded.

“I have to do a session now. I’d love for you to come with me. It’ll be fun, I promise.”

I smiled. Fun. Something I was definitely up for.

“Are you going skydiving? I’d love to watch that.”

“I was hoping you’d do more than watch. I want you to jum—”

“Oh, no! I’m not jumping out of any airplanes. I’ll just watch.”

“Tandem with me. I’ll keep you safe. You’ll love it.”

I looked at him, scrunching up my face.

“Tell you what. Let’s get you suited up and ready. If when we get up there, you absolutely don’t want to, I won’t make you. Okay?”

Once we got to the hangar, we suited up. Tamron helped me with the equipment.

“When will you attach the parachute?”

“You won’t need one. Quinn will wear one that’s wide enough to bear both your weights. You’ll be attached to him.”

I closed my eyes. That didn’t sound ideal. What if we got detached somehow? “How exactly are we attached?”

“Once you’re in the air, Quinn will clip his harness to yours. It’s perfectly safe. He’s done this jump hundreds of times.”

“What if it accidently unclips?”

“It won’t. You’ll free fall for about forty-five seconds before Quinn releases the parachute, so don’t panic during that time. Just enjoy the feeling. When you’re about four thousand feet from the ground, he’ll deploy that ’chute, and you’ll glide down to the landing area.”

“Ready?” Quinn smiled, walking in all suited up and ready to go.

We walked over to the plane and boarded with six other jumpers. Two of them looked as though they were jumping tandem as well.

“Cordelia, relax. This is going to be fun. I bet you’ll want to do it again. It’s quite a rush.”

My nerves wouldn’t allow me to relax. Quinn got behind me and clicked his harness to mine. I was closer to him than I had been in months, but it didn’t feel weird at all. I pushed back against his chest, drawing from his sense of calm.

“I’ll release the parachute in about a minute. The whole fall will take about five minutes.” He put his arms around me, and we jumped.

The feeling was like nothing I had ever experienced, a total rush. I didn’t even feel as though I was really falling; it was more like flying. I fought the urge to burst into Tom Petty’s “Free Fallin’.” I breathed in the air, enjoying every moment. Quinn released the parachute, and we glided down and landed softly on the landing patch where Tamron was waiting, a big grin plastered on her face.

But her grin was not as wide as mine. That had been the most awesome sensation ever. As soon as Quinn detached us, I turned around and hugged him.

He laughed. “Fun?”

“O-M-G! No kidding! I’m so glad you talked me into that. Best ever! I want to do it again.”

“And you will, whenever you want.” He smiled.

“I better go,” I said. “I’ve got an Initiation test to do.”

He nodded. “Okay, but come back…to me.”

His words played in my mind over and over on the ride back to the Academy with Tamron. I had so enjoyed spending time with Quinn again. Skydiving had been the perfect activity to get us back into hanging out with each other without any deep and difficult talks. Perhaps that was what we needed—for the immediate future, anyway—just opportunities to spend fun times together, to just be us—the best of friends—again. That wouldn’t, of course, address the elephant in the room, but maybe we could ignore it for a while and remember that we could get along as friends. Still, Quinn had said what he did before I left…

Those words filled me with a need to talk to Jagger. When I got back to my room, I decided to try to summon him through our synched senses, instead of texting him. We, unlike Quinn and I, could never just be friends, and I felt an overpowering urge to prove the power of our synching to myself. Of course, I had no idea if the summoning thing would work, but if it did, he could stop worrying about me. He could stop feeling as though he needed to be with me every time I had to do something even vaguely dangerous. If I could reach out to him, then he could just come when I needed him.

As I closed my eyes, I wondered what he was up to at the moment. I hoped he wasn’t on the slopes; I’d hate to call him away from anything important. I tapped into the rhythmic beating of my own heart, searching for signs of his within it. I had to be able to feel him somehow. My heart beat loud and clear, with no help from anyone else. I was in total control. I meditated, searching deeply within myself for any signs of Jagger.

Ugh, this was a waste of time; maybe I should give up. But I gave it one more try, diving deep into myself, taking full control of my heartbeat. Once I relaxed the beat into a deep, steady rate, I lowered it, spacing out the intervals between the thuds more and more. I listened carefully to the silent interludes and detected a faint sound. I focused on it, increasing the length of the pauses, so I could get a longer listen to it.

And there it was—Jagger’s heartbeat…a whisper within my own. I felt myself glow with relief and warmth when I realized how ingrained to my very being he was. I could almost reach out and caress his beat with mine. I stroked it gently, embracing it, merging with it. Then I gradually slowed down both our beats, until I almost stopped our hearts from beating altogether.

He appeared by my bedside, shirtless, his defined, taut abs sending a shiver of excitement soaring through me, which sent my heart—our hearts—racing again.

“Cordelia? What’s the matter?” His voice was hoarse with worry.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said quickly, horrified at having worried him for nothing.

He sat down beside me. The pheromones from his dewy skin drove me crazy with desire.

“Cordelia. What happened? I felt you needed me, so I came.”

“I do need you, but not like that. I wanted to see if I could call you, you know, without using a phone or whatever.”

He nodded, taking a minute to digest what had happened. Then he put his arm around me, drawing me close to him. I snuggled close and hugged him.

“Sorry, I was in the gym,” he said.

“Mmm. You can finish your exercise right here.”

J
ust as I was about to prepare for Faustine’s final Integration test, Octavia called.

“Hey.”

“I’m trying to reach Faustine.”

“Yeah? She’s in the shower.”

“Can you tell her to come down to the Justice Auditorium? The Student Council is waiting for her.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize she had a hearing this morning. I’m supposed to test her.”

“It’ll have to wait. I didn’t know either. I don’t think it’s a hearing. I think Faustine can expect a verdict today. They just called it, without any notice to anyone,” she said curtly.

“Does her father know?”

“I’ve called him. He’s being wandered over.”

“Okay, we’ll be there soon.”

Faustine rolled her eyes when I told her. “Gah, I was hoping they’d forgotten all about it.” She frowned. “I guess that was unlikely. Oh, well. Can you come with?”

“Yes, let’s go.”

Although she strode confidently into the Justice Hall, I could tell that she was panicking. Tiny beads of perspiration twinkled on her forehead. I slipped my fingers through hers and squeezed. Octavia was already at the defense table, chatting animatedly with Jagger.

“Dad.” Faustine threw her arms around her father for a hug before she sat down next to Octavia.

I was glad King Sebastian had made it in time, but I wondered where he’d been, dressed so casually in black jeans and a black T-shirt.

“Cordelia, any idea what’s going on?” King Sebastian asked. “I was asleep when Octavia called. I didn’t get much of a chance to ask her anything.”

“No.” I sat down next to him. “Did you come from New York? Any news from there?”

“You’re still certain that wasn’t Quinn on that recording?” he asked.

“I can’t be certain, but I’m pretty sure.” I had spent a lot of time with Quinn recently, with skydiving having become my new obsession. I was sometimes doing it on my own, though I still preferred having Quinn tandem with me. I couldn’t imagine that he was lying about the recording.

“Hmm.”

“What?”

Jagger slid into the chair beside me, casually resting his arm on the back of my seat.

Asmen banged his gavel. “Welcome. Octavia, Sally, thank you for coming on such short notice. Nari’s parents arrived yesterday and have asked that we render a verdict. As you know, we’ve been considering this matter for months, unable to come to fast conclusions. One thing is clear and undisputed. Faustine Spencer ate Nari Russo.

“There are a number of mitigating circumstances that we had to take into account when deciding this case. These included the murder of Faustine’s best friend, Martha Wills, and the unprecedented effect it had on the defendant.

“We had to take into account the failure of the Academy to protect Faustine from certain shifters, as well as the other students from her. There was clearly a failure in the confinement efforts. We also had to take into account the involvement of Cordelia Hammer in facilitating this attack. And finally, we had to accept that it was indeed Nari Russo, not Faustine, who attacked first.

“Having taken these issues into account, I’m going to allow each side to present its closing argument. Please limit them to a maximum of ten minutes. Octavia will go first.”

Octavia rose and paced in front of the defense table. She was even more smartly dressed than usual. I wondered what she’d had to interrupt, dressed in that couture navy-blue Chanel dress. Her normally loose-flowing blond tresses were slicked back with mousse and secured in a tight ballerina bun at the nape of her neck, slightly off-center to the right. Heavily eye-lined as usual, her white face looked different—more gentle—with a new shade of mauve on her lips instead of the usual blood red.

I wondered if she was prepared, considering the lack of notice. I noticed Mr. and Mrs. Russo looking at her, their faces set in the same deadpan expressions as the last time I had seen them.

Octavia stopped in front of Asmen and rubbed her chin with her sharply manicured lilac nails. “Thank you for stating all the facts so clearly. As you pointed out, although my client, much to her own
horror and dismay
,”—Octavia threw Faustine an apologetic nod—”
snacked
on the deceased, she did so under mitigating circumstances. We are not gathered here to dispute the fact that my client committed
that
act. Was Faustine justified in defending herself from the panther’s attack even if her self-defense resulted in Nari Russo’s death? That’s what we are here to determine.