He had two feet on the floor, back to me, stake still in my hand and pointed where his heart would be if I skewered him through. The child forms were hard; their apparent youth made it easy to feel bad or be less on guard when dealing with them, but they were the same as the other Lamia. Just as dangerous. Just as deceptive.
I could see the boys on edge, taken aback at first by the Lamia, but I was just waiting for this Credence to do something to mark him just as fiendish as the rest.
"eighteen fifty two... nineteen... um..."
"Well, spit it out,"
"Oh," after counting on his fingers, and mumbling and tapping his foot, he came up with an answer. "147 years,"
"Good. Now cut,"
He tensed.
"That isn't necessary,"
Of course. The most basic trick, tested and realized by every venetor in history. They always, always tried to skip that crucial step. Cause a loophole bind, stab you in the back. Snake.
"It is and you know it is," I spat, thrusting the stake a little closer. "Now cut,"
Harley beside me bit his lip, and turned half away fumbling with the sleeves of his sweatshirt. Bristling in anticipation, Leon and I watched as the Lamia pulled up his hands, drawing out long dagger-sharp fingernails from his other hand, and drew the nail of his middle finger over the palm of his other hand. He winced. Let out a hiss. Steam poured from the wound, spiraling in smoky tendrils toward plaster skies, the dead branches that caged it.
"Now that you are bound," I said, lowering the stake to let him turn and face me, "Repeat what I say,"
I could see the defeat filling his eyes.
"I, Credence Walter Kegley, of the fifth order"
"I, Credence Walter Kegly of the fifth order,"
"Swear myself in oath,"
"Swear myself in oath,"
"To do no harm,"
"To do no harm,"
"Tell no lies,"
"Tell no lies,"
"Do as directed,"
"Do as directed,"
"By Jennifer Patience Avella, defender of Deadwood."
A scowl spread across his face, and mumbling the last words of the oath we sealed it.
"By Jennifer Patience Avella, defender of Deadwood."
I took his wrist, and raising my hand over his felt the wound seal, and left a golden mark emblazoned on his palm.
"It's done."
Yanking his arm back, he tucked his hands in his sleeves and drew back against the trees to sulk as I placed the stake back into my bag and turned to the other two.
"Is that... He's not gonna..." Leon's forehead creased as he leaned to the side to peer suspiciously at the vampire.
Harley shifted from foot to foot and did the same. "Is he dangerous?"
"If you mean will he attack us, no," I replied, meeting Credence's icy glare. "If he'll try to run away... Credence, don't try to run away."
He stamped his feet and let out an 'Ugh,'
"Now he can't." I shrugged, and the two of them matched a bewildered look. "Oh, I almost forgot,"
The most important part, and I had forgotten. Of course. Matias was probably frowning at me from the heavens, with that blank disappointment-filled expression I'd grown so used to. Ever tending to forget, Jenna. Ever easy to distract.
"When is the attack?"
He bit his lip. Crossed and uncrossed his arms. Looked away, and back, and away, wrinkled his nose and glared at the snow.
Then finally replied.
"Tomorrow," he said. "The fifth order is attacking Deadwood high tomorrow, at eleven am. Eleven am exactly."
***
"Tomorrow?"
"Yes, that's what I said, are you dumb?"
We were gathered around a local diner booth, worn red leather bearing as many cracks as mysterious stains welded over the top of the table, an eerie hush fallen over the room. Morning chill brushed against the window in the form of countless snowflakes, falling in a dizzying chaos that eventually led to a buildup of soft white snow over the parking lot. The diner was empty- no one paid attention to us. The waiter looked too tired to even ask our names, much less recognize the missing ones.
Harley, surprisingly, wasn't phased by Credence's insult.
"No, I'm not."
Credence glared at harley. Harley stared blankly at Credence, taking a slow sip from his tea.
It must have looked strange, three teens and a twelve year old who sat two heads shorter than the rest of us, ordering nothing but a black coffee and a rib steak extremely rare. He turned his attention to each of us, as if wanting to give us a balanced amount of hatred.
Leon looked up from the coloring page the waiter had given to Credence, and leaned over to Harley.
"You gonna finish that?" He pointed a crayon at the untouched slice of toast lingering on Harley's plate.
"Knock yourself out,"
"Sweet,"
We were silent to the sound of crunching that followed, then an 'oh shit,' as Leon dropped it jam-side down onto the booth seat.
I was leaned against the window, trying to think. The chill of the glass pressed against my forehead, half keeping an eye on the group and half spacing out with the sheer stress of it all. The weight of their survival, the school, the town, the group: it all depended on if I was ready for this.
Matías told me I wasn't ready on a daily. Up until recently, when I was left on my own to protect Deadwood, I was never ready. Never enough. "Just two moves from perfect" he'd say. Just two years behind where I should be.
He wasn't supposed to die this soon, I still wasn't ready to be on my own. But Venatores survive, we adapt. And we never look back on what could have been.
I looked up from the window, and my head cleared.
"We can stop it," I said, a sudden realization hitting me. "We can stop the attack!" All three pairs of eyes widened, and stopping amid what each of them was doing, a unison 'what'? filled the air.
"I have a plan."
_______________________________________
A.N. Thanks for sticking around for ch. 29! Its coming up: the big battle. What could Jenna's plan be? Find out soon, and be sure to vote and comment! ❤️
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