Cameron bounced back and refocused on me. Someday those two would be friends. Until then, we had to put up with their squabbles. They were like first-graders fighting over the only red crayon in the box.
“So, are you guys back to hating each other?” Glitch asked, still out of breath. How far had he run? “’Cause I’m good with that.”
“Glitch,” Brooklyn said. She pointed a warning finger at him.
“What?” he asked. “It’s a legitimate question.”
With a sigh of resignation, Cameron stepped back. “I don’t know what’s caused this imbalance, this turbulence in the air, but it’s clearly affecting you, Lorelei.”
“What happened in your vision?” Brooke asked.
After a hard swallow, I told them everything. About Ms. Mullins. About Mr. Davis. About the kid and the gun. The only things I left out were the little details like smells and the sounds. I had never had a vision quite that realistic before.
“And Mr. Davis had on his red tie.” It was odd that I would remember that, but I did.
“Oh,” Brooke said, surprised too. “Well, he always wears that tie on game days, so if this does happen, it won’t happen at least until Friday, right? But it could be any Friday. What was Ms. Mullins wearing? We can keep an eye out.”
“Blood,” I said, sparing her an exasperated look.
She cringed. “Do you remember what color she was wearing? Her shoes?”
“Red and red. Honestly, all I remember seeing was blood. It was hard to get past.”
“We have to find that new kid,” Cameron said.
“Surely that doesn’t have anything to do with him, potential descendant or not,” I said. “I mean, this was a high school kid. An angry kid who wanted to take out his frustrations on the world.”
“Not the world, Lorelei,” Cameron said, stepping closer. “You.”
I looked around in alarm. Glitch’s head was bowed in thought. Jared’s arms were crossed over his chest. Brooke’s face was almost pale.
“No,” I said, refusing to believe it. “He shot Ms. Mullins and Mr. Davis. He wasn’t after me.”
“And yet he aimed the gun point-blank at your head,” Cameron said. “Shot you with a particular kind of purpose.”
Jared fixed a hard gaze on me. “Most likely, he only shot the others because they were in the way.”
Cameron took over again. “He was after you, Lor. The prophet. The only one, according to prophecy, who can stop the coming war before it starts.” He kneeled before me. “I promise you he wanted you dead, and I can also promise he was sent by someone else.”
“Is it the same guy causing this disturbance you’re sensing?”
“Possibly. Or the man who opened the gates of hell in the first place. We still believe he was the one who sent that reporter who tried to kidnap you. We have to figure out who he is.”
“And you’re the only one who’s seen him,” Brooke said.
“Right, when I was six.” The only plausible solution to stop this war lay in the fact that I had seen the man who opened the gates of hell ten years ago. Maybe it was that simple. Me remembering who he was or recognizing him at some opportune moment. How else would I stop a supernatural war?
Glitch brought me an orange soda, and it helped with the whole nerves and vomiting thing. I convinced them I felt well enough to stay at school.
“She can’t be here,” Cameron said to Jared. “At school. It’s too dangerous.”
“Cameron, Ms. Mullins’s life is in danger. Mr. Davis’s. I can’t possibly leave now.”
Nurse Mackey came back in just as Grandma and Granddad showed up. She frowned, perplexed, when Grandma called Jared “Your Grace.” Grandma insisted on calling him by his celestial title, though Jared swore the angels, arch or otherwise, never really went by such titles. Nurse Mackey shook it off, then explained what had happened, trying to calm my grandparents down before leaving us alone in the room again.
Brooke jumped up and offered her chair to Granddad, but he waved her back into it as Grandma sat beside me on the cot. Jared and Cameron joined us as well, closing the door behind them.
“What happened?” Granddad asked as he sat in the vacant chair before me, his face a picture of concern.
“Nothing. I just got dizzy.” The vision flashed in my mind and made me start shaking again. Grandma sat on the bed beside me and wrapped me in her arms. I let her, but only for a minute. Her gaze darted occasionally to Jared, and it angered me, so I leaned out of her grasp. She was so worried about him. What was he going to do? Incinerate me right then and there because he was so dangerous?
Well, okay, he was dangerous, but clearly there was something else out there even more so.
She dropped her arms in disappointment, and guilt crashed into me. I decided to let them in on one secret. One that I was hoping wouldn’t get me shipped off. I looked at them all sheepishly, and said, “Ms. Mullins knows what I am.” When every set of eyes around me widened in surprise, I continued. “She told me that nothing is inevitable. No matter what I saw, nothing is inevitable. She knows.”
“That’s impossible,” Grandma said, her face a picture of shock.
“No.” An astonished smile slid across Granddad’s face. “No, it’s not. She’s the one. Why didn’t I see it?”
“See what?” Brooklyn asked.