Fort Oakley | Part One

25 | I'm Not Shaking Your Hand Until You Put Some Pants On

The rumble of a car engine pulled me out of my thoughts, and I stepped onto the porch just as Vance's car rolled to a stop in the driveway. He hopped out with a bag slung over his shoulder.

"Morning, Vance," I greeted, leaning against the porch railing.

"Morning," he replied gruffly, his gaze sweeping over the house. "Looks like you survived the night. But something's going on with the Order."

My stomach tightened. "What do you mean?"

"It's the most movement we've seen from them in months," he said, climbing the steps. "Something's got them stirred up. Any idea what that might be?"

"It's because they missed a sacrifice last night," Jacey's voice came from behind me and I turned to see him stepping out of the front door

Vance raised an eyebrow. "And why aren't you wearing clothes?"

"They were in a tight spot last night, and they couldn't exactly go back to their house for a change of clothes," I said quickly.

Jacey took another step forward, holding out his hand. "I'm Jacey."

Vance looked at him, unimpressed. "I'm not shaking your hand until you put some pants on."

Jacey silently retreated back inside with the clothes Vance brought to get dressed, leaving me alone with Vance.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Come on, I need to show you something."

Vance followed me into the living room.

I crossed to the coffee table, picking up the small key.

"This was in a box in the attic," I said, holding it out to him. "It was full of Claire's parents' stuff—old papers and things about the Order. I don't know why Claire had it."

Vance took the key, turning it over in his hand. His expression was unreadable, but I could see that he knew what the key was for.

"Can I see that box with The Order's stuff?," he asked.

"It's in the attic. I'll go get it."

↟↟↟

"Here," I said, setting it on the floor in front of him. "Claire usually puts stuff up there when she doesn't want to think about it anymore, so I doubt she'll care if you take it."

Vance nodded, crouching down to sift through the contents. I watched him for a moment, then looked up as Jacey reappeared in the doorway, dressed in the clothes Vance had brought—a plain black T-shirt and a pair of jeans that fit him a little too snugly but were better than nothing.

"Thanks for the clothes, Clayton" Jacey said, his tone polite but guarded.

Vance glanced up at him, his gaze sharp. "You know who I am."

Jacey nodded. "Yeah. I got the same letter you did."

"What letters?" I cut in, looking between them.

Vance let out a slow breath and sat back on his heels. "Before you were born, your mother started making plans to get you away from the Order before t hey could sacrifice you. She knew what they were going to do, so she wrote letters to people she trusted and who she thought could help you when the time came. A few months ago, someone started sending out those letters."

My head spun. Too many questions were forming in my head again. Before I could process them, I turned to Jacey. "Did Mason like the clothes?"

Jacey nodded. "Yeah, he did, thanks."

"Mason?" Vance asked, frowning.

"Jacey's little brother," I explained.

Vance's eyes narrowed, and he looked back at Jacey. "You don't have a little brother."

Jacey sat down next to me on the couch, talking quietly. "He's not my real brother. But I've been taking care of him for years, so it feels like he is."

I stared at him, waiting for an explanation.

"Mason and his family were born into the Order," Jacey said quietly. "His parents were sacrificed in front of him when he was little. He stopped talking after that. They sent him to my parents to raise him into the Order, because he wouldn't cooperate. Last night, he was supposed to be sacrificed."

Horror coursed through me.

How could they kill a little kid?

"That's what I meant when I said The Order missed a sacrificed last night. And they'll need to make up for it. By tonight. They think Oktia will lash out at them otherwise."

The thought made me want to be sick.

My phone buzzed on the coffee table, and I picked it up, my blood turning cold when I read the message from Elvin's father.

If you don't bring Mason to us by eight tonight, Hugh Wesson dies.

I showed the text to Vance and Jacey, and Vance stiffened.

"Why would they kill Hugh?" I asked, my voice shaking.

"Because he's your grandfather," Vance said flatly.

"What?"

"When your mom disappeared, Hugh stayed in town to watch over you. The Order threatened him to leave you alone, but he just threatened them right back. He changed his last name so you wouldn't know who he was. To keep The Order happy. With Claire missing, he's the only person they can use to get to you."

My mind reeled as I tried to process this new information. Then I remembered something—a letter I'd seen on Hugh's coffee table when I visited him last week.

Could that have been one of my mother's letters?

I stood up. "I need to go to Hugh. I have to warn him."

"It's too dangerous, Charly" Vance said firmly.

"I just found out I have a blood relative in town," I snapped. "I'm going, Vance. You can come with me or stay here, but I'm not sitting around and doing nothing."

He muttered something under his breath but didn't argue further.

The woods were eerily quiet as we made our way to Hugh's house, the trees casting long shadows in the fading light. My nerves were on edge, every snap of a twig sending my heart racing.

We crossed into the Order's territory, and that's when it happened.

Figures emerged from the shadows, their faces obscured by their masks. Before I could react, someone grabbed me from behind, shoving a bag over my head.

"Vance!" I shouted, struggling against my captor.

I caught a glimpse of one of the cult members raising a gun and pointing it at Vance.

"Don't—"

The gunshot echoed through the woods, and everything went dark.