WeavingDestinyebook (6 page)

"Signs? What signs?" Lillian asked.

"A person corrupted by the Watchers changes, Lillian. They'll start making mistakes, losing their temper, making poor choices. Perhaps you remember a certain Hollywood starlet who attacked her assistant last fall? Out of character and an almost certain sign she'd been influenced by the Watchers."

"So, we're looking for someone who acts out violently," Lillian said.

"Or without compassion," Gideon added.

The room plunged into silence, each Soulkeeper finding a separate spot in the room to absorb their thoughts. The sound of Mara chewing the last broken bits of her sucker broke the funeral parlor ambience.

"We'd better go, Jacob. The Laudners are going to wonder where we are," Lillian said. She smoothed her hair and tightened her ponytail. "I think Katrina came home today. They're going to want to go out to dinner."

Jacob rolled his eyes but followed her lead toward the door, nodding his goodbyes along the way.

"Enjoy the family feedbag," Mara yelled, sarcastically.

"Mara!" Dr. Silva said.

"What?" Mara asked.

He exited the Victorian and crossed the street to the Laudner's cheery yellow home. His mom opened the door, straight into a heated conversation between Aunt Carolyn and Katrina.

"What do you mean you don't remember?" Aunt Carolyn yelled, then seemed to notice Jacob and Lillian standing in the doorway.

"Hello. Welcome home, Katrina," Lillian said. "Is everything okay?"

"Fine," Aunt Carolyn said, "only, my daughter won't share a single thing about this semester. From her grades to what she did last night, I get no information."

"I don't want to talk about it," Katrina said. She looked tired and held her head in her hands like every spoken word pounded against her skull.

"Stop the bullshit, Katrina. You're hung over." Aunt Carolyn said. She turned her attention to Lillian and Jacob. "Sorry you had to see this. We thought we would all go to Andrew's Steak House for dinner. That is, if my daughter can hold her head up for the hour while we eat."

Katrina rolled her eyes and shifted her gaze toward Jacob. They'd never been chummy but the look she gave him bordered on deadly. Jacob wouldn't give her the satisfaction of wallowing in her death rays. He climbed the stairs, locking his room door behind him.

* * * * *

In his blue rust-bucket truck, Jacob followed the Laudner's Ford Focus to Andrew's Steakhouse on the edge of Route 9. His mom rode shotgun. Technically, they could've all fit in one car but they'd be packed in like sardines. He'd offered to drive separately. Thanks to his mom backing that idea up, the Laudners didn't say no.

"Katrina looks..." His mom shook her head.

"Like crap?" Jacob filled in.

"I think there's a more polite word for it but she doesn't look good."

"Heavy night of partying, I guess." Jacob pulled onto the gravel parking lot in front of the painted blue wood panel of Andrew's and parked near the front door.

"It seems weird. She knew she was coming home today."

"People her age drink, mom. She's nineteen; she's away at school. She got drunk."

"Well, I'm going to offer to sleep on the couch tonight. I know it stresses her out to share a room with me."

"I can sleep on the couch. You can have my room."

She smiled in his direction. "That's sweet Jacob, but honestly, I don't mind. And I want to extend the olive branch to her. If you do it, it won't mean the same thing."

Jacob frowned but nodded his head. They climbed out of the truck, slamming the doors behind them. Jacob didn't bother locking it. The population of Paris was just over three thousand. If it were stolen it wouldn't take much investigation to find the culprit. On the off chance an outsider drove the hundred miles to come to Paris to steal a car, he suspected it wouldn't be his dumpy blue truck.

They joined the Laudners' at the door. The smell of grilling meat and grease hit him head-on as he entered the wood paneled glory that was Andrew's Steakhouse. They were seated at a large round table. Instinctively, Jacob took a seat next to his mom and was surprised when Katrina flopped into a chair next to him.

He turned his face toward his mom and murmured under his breath, "Huh." Katrina never voluntarily sat next to Jacob...ever.

"She's in trouble. You're the other kid in the household. It's only natural," his mom whispered with a hard undercurrent of
be polite.

He looked straight ahead, toward the waitress who'd approached the table. Katrina's cold, dark, stare burrowed into the side of his head.

"What'll it be, hon?" the waitress asked him.

"Um, the sirloin, medium," Jacob said.

"And you," she said turning to Katrina.

"The Branson ribeye, rare."

"Katrina, that's a twenty-eight ounce piece of meat and you've never liked your steak rare. Stop messing around and order something you're actually going to eat," John said.

"I changed my mind. I like my steak rare now and I'm really hungry. Isn't this a welcome home dinner for me?" she countered.

"You know what? Fine. I suppose they can throw it back on the grill if they need to."

Katrina leaned into her chair, a smug half-smile creeping across her face. As much as Jacob thought he had hated her before, there was something more sinister about Katrina this time. She'd changed and he didn't think it was for the better.

When the food came, the waitress set what looked like half a cow in front of Katrina. It was barely brown on the outside and bled across the plate when she cut into it. Everyone stared at her as she ate her first bite.

"What?" she asked.

Uncle John changed the subject. "Did you hear about Stephanie Westcott?"

"What about her?" Lillian asked.

"She's missing. Was supposed to come home from school today and never showed up. Fran Westcott is beside herself "

"What about her roommate?" Jacob asked, his fork and knife poised over his steak.

"She says she left Indiana University yesterday morning," Carolyn said. "They've called the police and everything."

Lillian placed her hand on her chest. "How horrible. Any chance this might be a social thing? Taking off with a friend for spring break?"

"We can only hope." Carolyn's eyes darted accusingly in Jacob's direction, an obvious jab about his supposed joyride with Malini last year.

"Who the hell cares," Katrina said, forking in another bite of steak.

"Katrina!" Carolyn gasped.

"Oh, come on, Mom, like you ever said 'boo' to Stephanie Westcott. Besides sucking down Fran Westcott's blueberry pie at every church social, you have no relationship."

"Don't you think that's a little callus?" Lillian said.

"Whatever." Katrina chugged her water.

"The least we can do is pray for her safe return. Carolyn, maybe you and I could offer to bring by some meals. I'm sure with the stress, Fran isn't eating well." Lillian said.

Katrina snorted. "Have you SEEN Fran Westcott? That woman has never missed a meal."

Uncle John grunted. "That's enough, Katrina"

Lillian furrowed her brow in Jacob's direction. He shrugged and returned to his plate, taking a bite of his steak. The table grew quiet aside from the clink of silverware. The pause in conversation allowed his mind to wander and his thoughts marched directly back to Malini.

He wondered how she was doing. He'd never seen her so upset. He couldn't blame her. She was thrown into all of this with no proof that she was really ready. Maybe she did have a gift that would surface at any moment. Maybe she didn't. Either way she wasn't ready for the kind of confrontation that happened today. Malini had seen Nod. She'd seen the way the Watchers there tortured human souls. He couldn't imagine how terrifying it must have been for her to be pinned to the dirt like some kind of animal, knowing that her life could end in a heartbeat. And wasn't he a wuss to not follow her home? That's what he should have done. If he was any sort of a boyfriend he would have followed at a distance and made sure she got home okay.

"Are you finished? Do you want a box?" the waitress asked.

He'd been so caught up in his thoughts about Malini he hadn't noticed that everyone else was done eating. Half his steak remained on his plate. "Yeah, a box would be great," he replied.

The woman tucked her pen behind her ear and lifted his plate in one hand and Katrina's in the other. That's when Jacob noticed her plate was empty. In surprise, he looked over at her just in time to watch her lick a bit of blood from her lips.

"I guess you were hungry," he said.

"Yeah, like I said." She leaned back in her chair.

Uncle John paid the check and they filed out into the parking lot. "Maybe, I could ride with you, Jacob?" Katrina said. Her voice was too sweet, poisoned honey.

"Sorry, no space. There's not much room in the cab and my mom is riding home with me."

"Maybe she could go with mom and dad," Katrina said.

"Uh..." Jacob tried to think of some excuse to put her off. Luckily, Lillian came to the rescue.

"I get car sick riding in the back seat. I better stick with Jacob."

Katrina's eyes darkened. "Fine," she said. She backed away, only breaking eye contact when she'd reached the car.

Jacob and Lillian climbed into the truck. As soon as the doors were closed, Jacob couldn't keep it in any longer. "There's something wrong with Katrina. I can feel it."

"I sense it, too," Lillian said. "I don't need Malini to know she reeks of Watcher."

"Do you think she met one at school? Maybe, she's been influenced," Jacob said.

"I don't know, but we can't trust her until we figure it out," Lillian replied. "I'm going to see if I can get my hands on her phone and check her records. If a Watcher is manipulating her, it will have to meet with her regularly to maintain its influence."

"Auriel only visited Dane once a month."

Lillian turned surprised eyes toward him. "What?"

"He told me she would leave a thermos full of tea. That's how she got him, with the tea."

"We need to look for a source. Something she's taking in. Until then don't trust her," Lillian said.

"I didn't trust her before," Jacob said. "Maybe it's a good thing you're sleeping on the couch tonight."

"And maybe you should lock your door."

Silence crept between them, as thoughts of Watchers, Katrina, and what was to come, drained any hope of lighter conversation.

* * * * *

It was late by the time they returned home, which was good because it gave Jacob a reason to avoid Katrina. He ascended the stairs and locked the door to his room behind him just as his mother requested. But he had no intention of going to sleep. Malini must be a basket case by now and he wasn't going to leave her alone a minute longer. Besides, if Katrina was being influenced by a Watcher, that was information Malini needed to know.

He retrieved his staff from his closet but knew he couldn't use it immediately. The staffs made a sound like a firecracker when used, and he didn't want to call attention to his departure. It was inconvenient, but when he stopped to think about his molecules being channeled through the air to somewhere else, it seemed only fitting that the process happened with a bang.

To be safe, he formed his pillows and blankets into a Jacob-sized heap on the bed. The old fashioned lock on the door wasn't exactly foolproof and the Laudners had a key. If they came in, it wouldn't hurt to have a decoy.

An old pull string bag made an excellent sling for the staff. He loaded it onto his back and carefully climbed out the window. Perching on the rose trellis, he slid the glass panel closed behind him. He descended on shaky toes, and jogged quietly from the house. When he was a respectable distance, he stopped, concentrated on Malini's terrace and tapped the staff on the concrete.

Jacob arrived outside Malini's window. For a moment he held perfectly still, hoping he hadn't woken her parents or a neighbor. Once he'd determined all was quiet, he knocked lightly on her window. The lace curtain moved aside. Malini's face lit up when she saw him and she unlocked her window to welcome him inside.

"I'm so glad you came," she said, folding herself against his chest.

 "I've been thinking about you since you left Dr. Silva's. I had to make sure you were okay."

Malini walked over to her bed and sat down near the pillow, pulling her legs up underneath her. She wore a butter yellow t-shirt and some flowered shorts Jacob knew she slept in. Without a hint of make-up and her hair loose around her shoulders, Jacob thought she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. He crossed the room and took a seat on the bed next to her.

"I wasn't okay when I got here, but I'm doing better now. I had a talk with a friend and I realized that what I'm feeling is perfectly natural considering the circumstances."

The muscles of Jacob's shoulders and neck tightened. "What friend?" he asked.

"Dane."

A red tide washed over Jacob, a feeling of possessiveness that he didn't quite understand. "Dane?"

"Yes, I ran into him on the way home. I needed someone to talk to and he's the only other person who knows about the Watchers."

"I'm not sure it's a good idea to trust Dane, Malini. He's been manipulated by the Watchers before."

"That's precisely why I do trust him. You should see how upset he was when he heard what happened. He fears them as much as we do, Jacob. He would be the last one to allow himself to be manipulated by one."

"Huh," Jacob said. He'd like to think the frown he gave her was out of genuine concern for her safety but part of him could feel the jealousy lurking behind it. "So, tell me what you and Dane talked about."

"Dane and I are the same. We're a part of this now because we know about the Watchers but we're not really Soulkeepers. We're helpless against them. It made me see that he was as scared as I am. We both have to trust that God will look out for us."

"All of us have to trust in that, Malini. But why do you say you're not a Soulkeeper? Did Dr. Silva tell you she was wrong?"

"No, but it's obvious. I was completely helpless against that Watcher today, Jacob." Her eyes swam as she said it. "I'm lucky to be alive.