The Reckoning Page 33

  The gathering. Tristan could not believe another month had passed so quickly, could not believe that she was now just three months away from making the biggest decision of her life. She had the ceaseless feeling that she was facing more than just rejecting the choice expected of her -- she felt as though the clock was running down, that the very hands of time and space were wrapping slowly around her throat and starting to squeeze. She was in danger, she knew it and she’d known it since her nightmare in the woods, and waiting for Orion to make his actual move had her nerves constantly on edge.

  Tristan knew, rationally, she should lay it all out for Umbris and Sol. She knew she should come clean, confess what she was planning and prepare them for it. She knew she should tell them about the visions she’d had through her dreams, that Orion seemed to have a purpose in mind for her that went far behind her joining the community and starting a life with Celes. But it was fear that kept her frozen and, maybe more than that, it was her desire to avoid the whole mess and pretend everything was normal until she could no longer keep up the charade. It was the coward’s way out, Tristan knew that, too, but denial was more powerful than she was, and so she kept it all to herself and as often as she could tried to completely ignore that the community existed at all.

  That method didn’t work too well when a gathering was mere days away, however. Tristan was distracted for the rest of the week, not able to lose herself in the time she spent with Beckett the way she usually did. The way he usually did, Beckett could tell something was up -- Tristan could see it every time he looked at her, but she pretended not to notice. She was starting to hate the person secrecy was turning her into, but, again, fear had her in a chokehold.

  On Friday afternoon, at their bench after school, Beckett closed his laptop after trying and failing, twice, to get Tristan’s attention. She stared out over the lake, a million miles away, absently chewing on her bottom lip. They’d made really good progress on their project and were set to start the community service aspect in a couple of weeks, so Beckett didn’t mind that Tristan was contributing nothing that afternoon. He did mind that she answered him vaguely when he checked to be sure she was OK, that she changed the subject if he started questioning her health, that she twisted her fingers together constantly anymore, any time something wasn’t occupying her hands.

  “Tristan.” Beckett placed his hand on her knee, and Tristan jumped, looking at him guiltily.

  “Sorry.” Tristan looked at Beckett’s closed laptop, then back up at him. “Sorry.”

  Beckett shook his head.

  “I don’t want you to apologize. I want you to talk to me. You’re a ball of nerves and you have been all week. What is going on?”

  Tristan sighed. For a few minutes she said nothing, and Beckett started to wonder if she was just not going to answer his question at all. Still, something told him to let her gather her thoughts, so he kept quiet.

  “I have this… grandfather,” Tristan began, and Beckett raised his eyebrows. “Estranged from our family, and with good reason. Or he was estranged, for a long time. But recently he’s come back into the picture, sort of, and…”

  Tristan cast her eyes around the lake, as though she was trying to think of how much or what to say next.

  “You know how the very presence of someone can stress you out? They don’t even need to be near you, necessarily, or talking to you, just knowing they exist and that you’re on their radar is enough? That’s sort of how my whole family feels right now, and has been feeling for the last couple of months. To say things have been tense since his return would be a huge understatement.”

  “Is he dangerous?” Beckett asked.

  Tristan looked at him, surprised, hesitating again before she answered.

  “Possibly.”

  Beckett nodded, thinking.

  “Why don’t I come with you?”

  “What?”

  “To your family reunion. Bring me with you; I can keep you safe.”

  Tristan vehemently shook her head, had started shaking it before he even finished talking.

  “No. No way.”

  Beckett’s eyebrows lifted, and hurt flashed across his features.

  “OK.”

  “Not because I’m ashamed of you, or anything like that,” Tristan said forcefully, putting her hand on Beckett’s arm. “I know this is frustrating. I know… I know not being able to share certain things with you makes you feel excluded or like I’m hiding something, and I’m sorry, Beckett. It’s just… Family stuff is so complicated, and I…”

  Tristan sighed again, trailing off. There was nothing she could say beyond what she’d already said, and giving Beckett even a little bit of information was too risky at this point, for both of them. She felt tears prickling at the corners of her eyes, and she blinked quickly, trying to pull herself together.

  “Hey.” Beckett put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. “Hey, come on. It’s OK. I don’t understand what’s going on, but I trust you when you say you’ll tell me when you can.”

  Tristan rested her head in the crook of his neck, taking some deep, steadying breaths.

  “Let’s talk about something else,” Beckett said. “Do you have any hobbies I don’t know about?”

  Tristan laughed, grateful for the change of subject. Grateful for Beckett.

  Chapter 30

  Unbeknownst to Tristan, her family and the Crenshaws had hatched a plan after January’s gathering, when Celes had confirmed that Orion had his sights set on Tristan. She hadn’t caught on last month at the February gathering, but she did this time. It could have been that they all seemed more on edge than they had before, or that she’d caught Celes talking quietly with her parents while eyeballing her to see if she was listening, or maybe even something that had been there last month, too, but Tristan had been too preoccupied to notice. Either way, after she’d watched Celes look over at her for the fifth or sixth time, she marched up to him and her parents.

  “OK, what gives?” Tristan put her hands on her hips, raising her eyebrows at all of them.

  Celes, as usual, remained quiet, his expression passive.

  “What do you mean, honey?” Sol asked, but her eyes were scanning the crowd, the faintest of frowns creasing her brow.

  “What do you keep whispering about over here? I know you don’t want me to know, considering you’ve been watching to make sure I don’t come over here,” Tristan said, looking accusingly at Celes.

  “We’re not whispering,” Umbris told Tristan, his expression unreadable. “Celes was keeping his eye on you because we asked him to.”

  “Why?” Tristan frowned.

  “I think you know the answer to that,” Celes finally spoke, his voice grave.

  Tristan nodded reluctantly, looking around with a breeziness she didn’t feel.

  “Is there something I should know about right now?”

  Celes shook his head.

  “He’s not even here, not yet. It’s possible he won’t be. I am having trouble confirming, but word is that he attended an Elder meeting in the city last weekend and it really set him back. His health is not great, needless to say, despite the Elders doing everything they can.”

  “And again, the question is, how is he a threat to me if he’s so weak?”

  Celes exchanged a look with Sol and Umbris.

  “We’re still working on that.”

  “But?” Tristan sensed a but.

  “But we know how powerful he is, and we know that when or if he decides to move in, he’ll find a way.”

  Tristan bit her lip, debating on whether or not to mention Eva. Since the dance, she had not seen Eva in the hallways at school, to her surprise, and Tristan had also not had any more nightmares with Eva as the star. She still had a bad feeling about her, exacerbated by Olivia's continued claim that nothing had happened beyond Eva creeping her out in the bathroom, but Tristan figured the lingering feelings probably had to do with the attack and the nightmare more than anything else. On t
op of that, mentioning Eva was risky -- Tristan knew it would require the Crenshaws coming to town and somehow tracking her to see what she was up to, and that walked a line the community members tried to avoid, especially in this day and age of practically constant surveillance and social media.

  “He’s not coming.” Dune approached the five of them, whose faces simultaneously flooded with relief, and spoke quietly. “The info we have is accurate; the Elder meeting took him down for the count, at least for this month’s gathering.”

  “Thank the gods.” Sol put her hand to her chest, but Tristan was still watching Dune, who didn’t look as relieved as the rest of them. Celes, who’d been looking at Tristan, turned his gaze on his dad.

  “What is it?”

  “There’s another Elder meeting, being held not far from here to accommodate Orion, in the coming weeks. We have been told to expect news at the April gathering.”

  “What kind of news?” Tristan attempted to sound normal, but her voice barely broke a whisper. She felt a hand slip into hers, and she turned to find Olivia standing beside her.

  “We don’t know. We all do know news is rarely good, but that doesn't necessarily mean anything. I believe the Elder committee’s main interest lately has been to review the community laws -- there has been some noise about the goings-on behind closed doors, things being brought back into consideration and other things being put on the chopping block. Whatever they come up with will be interesting, for lack of a better term.”

  “Why do you look worried, then?” Tristan hadn’t meant to ask, but nevertheless the question came out of her mouth, directed at Dune.

  “I’ve never done well with change.” Dune gave Tristan a rare smile, probably the last one she’d ever see from him. “And there has been lots of it this year. I can’t imagine the Elders changing any laws or establishing any laws that would affect me and mine personally, but that doesn’t mean I don’t worry, don’t dislike the secrecy before the big reveal.”

  Tristan swallowed a guilty lump in her throat, carefully avoiding looking at anyone but Dune as she nodded.

  “I understand.”

  It was time for Tristan and her family to get their infusions, so Tristan and Olivia lined up, once again, behind Evander. Tristan listened mutely to the conversations taking place around her. She couldn’t find her voice even if she wanted to, which she didn’t; she feared, with the steadily rising panic inside of her, that if she opened her mouth, she might just start screaming and not stop. She took several deep breaths before Evander could admonish her for “getting her mud all over him”, but Evander seemed lost in thought, as well.

  “Trinity,” Glacis said, looking and sounding surprised as Tristan entered the tent for her infusion. “I didn’t expect to see you again.”

  Tristan smiled half-heartedly.

  “Surprise.”

  “Sit, please. How have you been?”

  Tristan almost laughed, but bit it back at the last second.

  “I’ve been well, and you?”

  Glacis eyed her for the briefest of moments, almost like she knew Tristan was lying -- hell, she probably did know -- but gave her a genuine smile anyway.

  “Well also, thank you.”

  Tristan leaned her head back against the firm cushion, watching as Glacis prepared the infusion.

  “OK, and relax. Here we go.”

  Glacis didn’t speak again until Tristan had stood and was about to exit the tent.

  “Trinity?”

  Tristan turned, startled, and Glacis looked her over for a moment, her light brown eyes contrasting nicely with her short, bright aqua hair.

  “Take care, OK?”

  Tristan went cold.

  “Sorry?”

  “Until I see you again,” Glacis clarified, frowning so briefly Tristan could have imagined it.

  “Oh. Yes. Yeah, uh, you too. Thanks Glacis.” Tristan gave her a quick smile and high-tailed it out of the tent.

  At this rate, she was going to have a nervous breakdown before June.

  ***

  Beckett’s birthday was the weekend after the gathering, and his only request for celebration was to have Tristan spend the weekend at his house. It had been a tough sell to Umbris and Sol, Umbris especially, but in the end they’d relented. Mrs. Benson had gone to spend the weekend with her sister, and Mr. Benson happily -- too happily, Beckett felt -- agreed to find somewhere else to stay both nights as well. Tristan had warned Beckett that she had work on Friday night and Saturday morning, but he didn’t care; he gladly picked her up after work on Friday night, driving her back to his house.

  Spending the night with Beckett was bliss. They cocooned themselves up in his bed, entwined like snakes in a jar, and Tristan wished desperately that she’d had the foresight to ask for Saturday off from work. Alas, the new hire -- a Jamestown Academy junior, no surprise there, named Violetta Folliard -- was scheduled for her very first shift, and it was Tristan’s turn to do the training.

  Tristan’s alarm went off at five A.M., and she kissed Beckett awake, softly as not to startle him. His long-lashed eyes fluttered open and he gave her a sleepy grin that had her heart tripping all over itself.

  “Happy Birthday,” Tristan whispered, and Beckett pulled her to him, kissing her, sorely tempting her to call in sick to work.

  A half hour later he kissed her again, this time in his Jeep as he dropped her off in front of Rise and Grind, and Tristan envied that he’d be going right back home to bed. She opened up the shop on a smile, and got everything up and running while dealing with the morning rush. Amos arrived a half hour after she did, and Tristan was grateful that she wouldn’t have to be responsible for the grill, as well -- those mornings were by far the most stressful.

  Violetta arrived at ten A.M., looking nervous, and Tristan wondered if she’d looked the same way on her first day. Probably.

  “You can go through there,” Tristan told her, once Violetta had greeted her. She pointed towards the door that led to the back. “Go right, put your things down, stamp your timecard, and come on out.”

  Violetta nodded, skirting quickly through the door and behind the counter in record time.

  “I’m Tristan, by the way,” Tristan told her, and Violetta looked amused.

  “I know. Olivia and Evander’s sister. Dating Beckett Benson. Lucky.”

  Tristan laughed.

  “I have Algebra with Olivia. We’ve never really talked, but she seems cool.”

  Tristan nodded politely.

  “And I have English with Evander. He’s quiet.”

  Tristan looked at her bemusedly. Violetta’s brown eyes were earnest, and she seemed to be getting less nervous by the minute.

  “And I know Emmeline Strandquest and her friends attacked you back in December.”

  Tristan’s stomach clenched a bit.

  “Yes.”

  “Bitches.”

  Tristan hid a smile, turning briefly away from Violetta before turning back and gesturing to the shiny equipment that sat, waiting for her to learn, on the counter in front of them.

  “We should probably get to this. I know it looks overwhelming, but you’ll get the hang of it in no time.”

  Violetta nodded, looking nervous again, and pulled her blonde hair into a short ponytail at the base of her skull.

  “OK. Let’s do this.”

  Tristan had a better time than she’d anticipated with Violetta. The girl was funny, rough around the edges and honest bordering on blunt, and Tristan found her refreshing. Violetta had many things to say about many of the people they went to Jamestown with, and Tristan secretly delighted in her assessment of Emmeline and her friends (“vapid, evil, brainless hosebeasts who will never make it out of Lavelle”), as well as Beckett (“dreamy, too good to be true, will probably never come back to Lavelle once he leaves”), Tyler (“have you ever heard him sing? Oh my God, my panties melt -- oh he’s dating your sister, sorry”), Henry Aspern (“an Asian dreamboat”), and Theo Fitelson (“definite s
erial killer”). Her shift ended at two P.M., same as Tristan’s, and Tristan introduced her to Ellie, who was just coming in, before they left.

  “Oh I know Ellie,” Violetta grinned, and Ellie gave her a flinty look, which had Tristan raising her eyebrows. Violetta looked at Tristan, still grinning. “She broke my brother’s heart.”

  “Ah,” Tristan said awkwardly, scratching her eyebrow.

  “See you gals later.” Violetta wiggled her fingers and exited the coffee shop, and Tristan and Ellie looked at each other.

  “Really, Joe had to hire her?” Ellie grumped. “For the record, me and her brother broke each other’s hearts.”

  “Ah,” Tristan said again, backing away. “Well, I have to go. I’ll see you on Monday?”

  Ellie nodded distractedly, and Tristan hurried out of the coffee shop, hoping fervently that she wouldn’t be stuck in some awkward third wheel situation with Ellie and Violetta any time soon.

  “Hi birthday boy,” Tristan greeted Beckett, hopping into his Jeep. She kissed him.

  “Hello beautiful,” Beckett returned, but he seemed nervous, and Tristan eyeballed him.

  “How was your day?”

  “It was fine. Boring. I slept until ten though, so that was nice.”

  Tristan harrumphed, and Beckett laughed. The short ride was mostly quiet, and Tristan couldn’t help but notice that his nervousness seemed to increase the closer they got to his house.

  “Are you OK?” Tristan asked, as they pulled up to the curb and Beckett looked downright nauseated.

  He turned to Tristan, his face taking on a greenish tinge, and her heart flew into her throat.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “There’s a letter inside, for me. It’s from Ward Livingston.”

  Tristan’s eyes nearly fell out of her head.

  “And?!”

  “And I haven’t been able to bring myself to open it. It’s my birthday, Tristan. What if it’s a rejection? What if it isn’t? I didn’t want to be alone either way.”

  Tristan nodded, but her own heart was galloping like she’d just run a mile. What if it was a rejection? What if it wasn’t?