He glanced between the two of them and saw the barely contained laughter beneath the surface. James narrowed his eyes petulantly. “Very funny, you two. You know how much I hate this.” Eliza laid a hand on his cheek. “And that’s what makes it so damn funny.” She playfully slapped his face. Blakeney laughed loudly with great mirth. “The two of you keep me feeling young.” “Glad we could be of service,” James mumbled. “Alright. Let’s order some lunch and then Eliza can tell us the big secret.” The older man pulled out his phone. “I think Chef Mariana had some Philly cheese-steaks on the menu today, James you game?” “You don’t even have to ask,” he replied swiftly. Blakeney touched his thumbs to the screen of his phone. “And you Eliza?” he asked her. She pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Can you ask her if she’ll just bring me one of those large chicken Caesar salads?” “I’m sure Mariana won’t mind in the least,” observed Blakeney. He sent the text, then pocketed his phone. “Now, what d
“You sure you’re good with this?” James asked Tres as he finished packing some hygiene items in a small suitcase. Already a couple pairs of extra clothes had been thrown in, one of which was a nice version of the school’s uniform to wear to meet Christian and his mother. Blakeney had asked he and Eliza to have something nice to represent the Academy properly. His cymbal bag was already waiting by the door and now James was about ready to go meet Eliza so they could be on their way. “What!?” Tres was incredulous. “And miss a perfectly good opportunity to wreak havoc?” His face was filled with indignant disbelief. “Are you crazy? I’m afraid you don’t know me at all.” He turned away and placed a hand to his forehead like a distressed damsel in a Romance novel. “It’s over between us.” James laughed deeply at the antics. “Oh, shut up.” Tres grinned toothily. “Just make sure you and Matt don’t tell anyone,” said James. “And how long do you need again?”
The clacking of heels could be heard coming from the general direction of the kitchen. Sure enough, Eliza’s mother emerged around the magnificent, sweeping marble staircases and headed in their direction. She was as beautiful as ever. Liz Masters was dressed in a kneelength ivory dress with an ivy-green belt looped around her waist. Her flame-red hair cascaded straight down her back and a single strand of pearls adorned her neckline. Simple elegance. She smiled at the sight of the two of them. “Hello, baby girl.” “Hey, mom,” Eliza said as she and her mother hugged affectionately. He could tell their love had deepened since last year and that they were much closer. Seeing their relationship brought a smile to his own face. Liz stepped back from her daughter. “James,” she smiled warmly at him. “How are you?” He kissed her offered cheek, then said, “Good. Thank you for having me for dinner.” “Nonsense,” Liz waved him off. “You’re always welcome. I just wish you two could stay longer
The sky was jewel-like, crystalline blue as James pulled the sleek navyblue Mercedes onto the causeway. Driving towards Melbourne beach, he grinned like a kid playing with a shiny new toy for the first time. He looked out over at the water and saw the blazing sun dancing across the waves, the palm trees waving lazily in the cool ocean breeze. Being in this environment brought the book he had read last night to surreal life. To him, the novel was more than just a representation of a man struggling against nature and age. It was a kind of metaphor for life. Sometimes, thought James, we go after our dreams based on preconceived notions and ideals of success and life doesn’t always work out the way we intended. But like the old man, he figured you had to keep going no matter what. Because as is the case with real life, just as in the book, there is always someone watching and learning from your example. James sighed softly as he studied the beauty all around him, the book’s characters r
The beach was officially crowded. Up and down the strip of white sand by the water, beachgoers were walking to and fro, and loungers laid about soaking up the life-giving rays of sunshine. Out of respect for Eliza, he averted his eyes from the scantily clad girls in every direction. Lucky for them, the hotel had its own strip of beach, so they needn’t have to fight for any place to lay their things. As Eliza laid down their towels, he shucked his flip-flops and slipped his shirt off. “Hey, Mr. Six-pack, don’t give any girls a heart attack,” she taunted him. “Whatever,” he muttered. He was about to add another retort, but his eyes were riveted. Eliza had just come out of her own clothing and the bikini she had on—white with blue horizontal stripes, kind of sailor-ish—accented all of her curves perfectly. It took him a second to realize his mouth was hanging open and he was pretty sure he was drooling. With effort, he closed his mouth as she laid back on the towel. “What? You’re not
“God,” complained James. “I look like a door-to-door insurance salesman,” he said, remarking on what he was wearing. A pair of pressed khaki chinos, white oxford button-down shirt, and navy-blue tie with diagonal sky-blue stripes were paired up with his nice Doc Martin leather boots. He wished he could have just worn his Chuck’s but Blakeney had said no. To him, he looked like a prep school snob. “I think you look handsome,” Eliza countered. During continued grumblings, she asked, “How long do you think Tres will keep the network down?” Blakeney chuckled jovially as they pulled to a stop in front of the Somers’ house. “I don’t see a problem there. I told Anita to ask him for help when she called late last night.” He laughed deviously. “She has no clue that he’s the one who crashed it in the first place. And apparently the students almost rioted when the satellite and internet shut down, so I’m sure she has her hands full.” Blakeney shook his head. “Well, let’s go.” They ste
Christian’s eyes went wide for just a split second before indifference washed the shock away. “What are you talking about?” Rebekah asked. Then, “Christian, what is he talking about?” “I dunno,” Christian shrugged. James had to admit it, the boy had the talent to pull off the innocent charade. “James,” said Blakeney, bringing him up to bat. “Look,” he began, “we saw you in the water. You called that wave to you and forced it to go the direction you wanted it to. We know all about your ability with water, so stop pretending.” Christian shot daggers from his green eyes at James. “Whatever.” “Okay, what is going on?” Rebekah asked suspiciously. Her son was as impassive as the sphinx. Blakeney leaned forward, excited now. “Your son is quite gifted, Rebekah. In fact, I’m willing to bet that if I set down a glass full of water on the table and he chose to perform in front of you, he could swirl the contents using only his mind.” Rebekah shook h
James was barely paying attention though, because as Eliza walked into the yard and the strengthened breeze finally met her, his eyes were locked on. He could feel a catch in his throat, his pulse ringing in his ears like a shotgun had just went off nearby, and his heart was hammering like a drum. Her red hair danced this way and that in the wind, her recently sun-kissed skin was gilded gold by the sinking sun, and her dress was whipping against her body bringing it out on display. Eliza threw him a smile as she hurried to the car and a blush rose up her face at the dazed look which had fallen over his features. She dashed to the back seat to get out of the wind. From the corner of his eyes, he saw that Christian was staring after her as well. He took a deep breath to lash up his rising temper. “I guess you’re the baggage check?” Christian commented derisively. James bent to haul in his first bag. “Yup.” he set it in the trunk, added a second and then the skateboard.
James sighed; frustration, reluctance, and pain closed themselves across his features. He searched for Eliza and found her. She was speaking with Tres and his family. Almost as if she could feel his eyes on her, she turned and smiled widely at him. “I understand that you do not want to leave her, James. You love her more than anything and yearn to be near her.” Zeus squeezed his shoulder to recapture his attention. “The choice, of course, is yours. I will never take away your free will. But know this, if you choose to stay, yes, you will be with your loved ones. However, it is almost certain then that you would lose this war. As I told you before, sometimes we have to leave the ones we love in order to protect them, even if our absence is only for a season. I can show you how to unlock the abilities which lie dormant within you and give you a chance to save those you love. More than anything, I wish for you to never feel pain again, but I’m afraid my children cannot always travel th
At that, James and Eliza stood to lead the procession of surviving students. With a single white rose in each of their hands, the just over three-hundred walked down the aisles and passed before the table which held the framed pictures of the victims. Some wept, some simply said goodbye and moved on, but each of them laid their rose to rest in front of their fallen friends. It was significant of a promise to be kept: A promise to always remember their friends and classmates, a promise to never forget, and a promise that those who died would be carried in the hearts of the survivors for as long as they live. The last mourning student placed her rose on the cold earth, a tear falling from her cheeks and splashing onto the laid flowers, and the gathered assembly stood to move amongst each other. As everyone else began to comfort and converse with those they knew, James remained seated, his eyes searching the faces framed before him. He found the picture of Adonis and lifted on corner of
James studied his appearance in the mirror and absentmindedly fixed his tie. He wore a black, custom tailored suit which Eliza’s father had purchased for him for the occasion. A white dress shirt, black tie, and black wingtips completed the ensemble-mourning clothes. He had been breathing a little easier ever since he and Eliza and the others had finished their goodbyes to their friends, but when he was alone, as he was now, the pressure in his chest returned. It felt as if a weight was pressing down on his heart; threatening to squeeze the life out of him. He closed his eyes, breathed deep and slow, and willed the pain to subside to an acceptable level. In just a short while, Bill Masters would speak on the events which had occurred earlier in the week- the cover story having been a last time. Though he knew with the passage of time the weight of grief would sail away like a ship on the ocean, the loss of so many lives would never truly leave him. With everything that is within him
“I know that we’re all in a lot of pain right now, but we don’t know how long this period of inaction on the part of our enemies will last,” said James, eyeing each of the faces gathered in the room. “The task ahead of us won’t be easy, but I’ve had people die in my arms and I don’t want that to happen again.” “What are you saying, James?” Bill interrupted, wanting clarification. He glanced around the room again. “I’m saying it’s time to fight. I’m saying the time for secrecy among us is over. We need to gather everyone together that can fight and train them to go to war. Mr. Blakeney once told me that during the World Wars there were thousands of swords, shields, armor, spears, and arrows made from metal mined from Olympus and forged by Hephaestus and his workers.” His eyes seemed to harden with resolve as if they were marbles. “We need to find this cache and build an army. Never again will we be caught unprepared, not ready.” James elevated his voice as he spoke. “It’s time to ta
The past few days had been filled with alternating times of mourning and grief followed by periods of clarity and resolve. He and Eliza had spent much of the time on horseback or on foot meandering through her family’s vast estate. Being together and out in the cold, open environment, had allowed each of them to process their emotions and grieve properly for the fallen director. Robert Blakeney had been particularly special to them. Having spent the entire summer together and going out on numerous missions since, they had continued to grow closer. An unbreakable bond had been forged. Or so they thought. Everyone had been completely blindsided by Clurife’s attack and the betrayal of Oliver, but James was giving himself no room for excuses. It was outright stupidity to believe they were safe at the Academy. He, Eliza, and Blakeney had known someone was giving Clurife information and it was only a matter of time before the school itself was targeted, especially after Kali was killed. N
James had never been inside Romero’s home before. There had never been a reason to because over the summer their base of operations had always been Washington Manor—the Director’s residence. Under normal circumstances, he would have found the house to be warm and comfortable. It was built in a classic American style from a bygone era: wood floors, wood paneling intricate crown molding and lots of fireplaces. He couldn’t help but think it a miniature version of the Director’s place. It was for that reason alone that in lieu of any comfort, he felt stifled and suffocated. Ignoring all else, he made his way through the house and onto the screened back porch. He sat into a wooden Adirondack chair hoping to process more than a few of his rumbling emotions. He studiously avoided thinking about Blakeney and instead focused on the others which had died. There were many he didn’t know, but of the few he did, he had known them well. There was Jennifer West, the beautiful and spontaneous girl
They pushed their way through the trampled snow and to the fountain where the escaping students had gathered. James set Jennifer down on the cold earth and surveyed the panic-stricken mass. Far too many were missing from their numbers and Blakeney was nowhere to be seen. He turned to Eliza as he shrugged off his jacket and ripped his shirt in two. “Help them, okay?” he told her desperately, handing her one of the two pieces. Eliza nodded and went to work trying to stem the flow of blood coming from Jennifer’s battered body. One look was all that was required, however, for her to know it was hopeless; the girl’s lungs had been severely pierced. Even though they had been at odds in the past, this last semester, they had become acquaintances, maybe, ironically, the pair had even been heading towards friendship. But now... this. She tried to provide whatever comfort she could during Jennifer’s last moments of life. “It’s going to be okay,” Eliza said with a small smile. “You’ll be fine
Arriving at the end of the hall, James lifted a single foot and kicked the door in. The struggle going on in the room shocked him enough to crack a shallow wedge in his confidence. Svetlana lay on her bed clutching her bleeding chest, while in the far comer by the window, Eliza barely held the attacking soldier at bay with her dagger which was held in a vise-like grip. She was trembling with fear and tears spilled profusely from her eyes. The shattering doorframe had knocked the soldier’s attention from her and as its eerier eyes were coming to rest on the intruder, James flew into action. In barely more than the blink of an eye, he batted away an attempted strike and skid his blade clean through the enemy’s chest. With a flick and twist, the heart was pierced, death instantaneous. James slammed the body into the ground with disgust and moved his eyes to Eliza. “You okay?” he asked gently. She sniffed once and nodded. He secured his sword and shield onto his back, then went to S
Blakeney had been up and working in his office when the screaming alerted him. Not taking any chances, he grabbed the sword he kept by his desk and marched towards the school’s foyer. As soon as he stepped onto the marble floors from the staff offices, the sight of flames consuming the dormitories filled his eyes. His breath quickened and his pulse pounded in his ears as the building flames engulfed his school. The students I his mind shouted above the growing fear. He sprinted down the thoroughfare, protection of innocent lives the only thing on his mind. But, no sooner had he made his way into the inner courtyard, then a sinister, pleased laugh echoed amidst the granite. “Hello, Director Blakeney,” a deep, steady voice spoke. Blakeney whirled on the spot, searching for the source. Like an image being born from darkness, Nicholas Clurife stepped into the light. He wore all black, his evil Stygian blade held at the ready, and the smile that spread across his face oozed with crue