Wager's Price Read online

  “Unfortunately, Vox’s confession only goes so far. You were party to breaking and entering. With regard to the fire, they can say you helped him—a principal in the second degree—or they can call you an accessory to the crime. Either way, there’s no denying your involvement. The best we can hope for is a lenient sentence.”

  “But I didn’t do anything.”

  “Are you now suggesting you didn’t put the duct tape on the door with the intent of causing it not to lock correctly?”

  “No, but—”

  The two stared at each other for a beat, the tension in the room growing. His father’s disappointment was a palpable thing that went beyond his tightly pressed lips and stony expression. Under his professional demeanor, he was ashamed; Finn could sense it. Something in his eyes said he was looking at a lost cause.

  “What sentence do you think I’ll get?”

  His dad’s eyebrows bobbed. “Might be anything from a hefty fine with community service to prison.”

  “Prison?” Finn lifted from his chair.

  The older man rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger and shook his head. “You took part in an act of vandalism orchestrated by an organized group of delinquents, Finn. The court could view Deviant Joe as a gang and your actions as gang violence that threatened a human life. You burned down a school—”

  “I didn’t!”

  “It doesn’t matter if it was you holding the lighter or not. You were there. You were part of it. The prosecution is going to be out for blood on this one. No one likes to see a rich kid get away with something. No judge in this state is going to go easy on you.”

  “But prison?”

  “You’re fifteen. You’ll go to juvenile detention.”

  At that, Finn blinked rapidly against the prickling in his eyes. Juvie. At least Wyatt wasn’t part of this. Everyone had protected his identity and confirmed Vox as the fourth member of Deviant Joe. Finn wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if Wyatt had suffered the consequences of that night simply by being associated with them in the past.

  Finn didn’t truly think he’d end up in prison or juvenile detention. He’d gotten away with so much for so long, the idea seemed impossible. He took solace in the fact his dad was on his side, the best defense attorney in the state, if not the country. Still, the specter of punishment loomed large on the horizon.

  A thick hand landed on his shoulder. His father had moved to his side, some of that professional stiffness bleeding from his demeanor. “I’m a good lawyer, Finn. I’m going to do my best to keep you out of prison. Your job is to do exactly as I say and keep your nose clean.”

  It took a second for that to sink in. Then Finn stood and allowed his father to pull him into his arms.

  Finn slumped in an upholstered chair in Wager Manor’s living room, looking oddly alive among the museum pieces his dad called furniture. Finn didn’t spend much time in this room, but since he was not allowed electronics of any kind for another week, it was as good a room as any.

  Today was the day. Mediation. His dad had insisted he stay home this time. All of them, Jayden and Mike too, had agreed to stay home, to leave it to the adults. They’d have a decision later today.

  It would have been nice to see Mike or Jayden or even Wyatt, but he wasn’t allowed. Sure, his dad said he was permanently grounded, but that wasn’t the real reason. He’d overheard his father on the phone with a partner. Finn’s best chance for a lenient sentence lay in a case based on relative accountability—proving Finn’s involvement was less than the other boys’, that he’d cooperated more fully with authorities. Basically, his dad had to keep Finn apart from his friends so he could throw one of them under the bus should the opportunity present itself.

  Finn didn’t like it, but he felt helpless to change it. He rubbed his palms on his thighs. It was going to be okay. Vox had admitted guilt. There was no reason not to believe him. The guy had a record. Why would they come down hard on Finn?

  The whine of the heavy front door brought him to his feet. When his father entered the room, Finn could tell something had gone terribly wrong. He was ghost white and looked as tired as Finn had ever seen him.

  “Dad?” Finn swallowed hard.

  “I tried my best. I pulled every string I knew to pull. The arbitrator wanted to make an example of you.”

  “Why?”

  His father tilted his head and grimaced. “Our money, Finn. Who I am. Have you heard of affluenza?” His father waved a hand in front of his face. “The arbiter could not tolerate a boy with so many advantages getting away with arson.”

  “It wasn’t me!” Finn’s hands balled into fists, but his father silenced him with a shake of his head.

  “He watched all of your Deviant Joe videos, Finn. You admitted to the police it was you in the videos, and Mike’s lawyer was quick to point out that he didn’t have the means or the equipment to produce the quality of video you posted. He called you the mastermind. Even though you didn’t start the fire, he suggested it was you who created the environment that encouraged Vox’s behavior. Vox’s lawyer went so far as to suggest you egged him on, that he was trying to outdo your last prank when things went horribly wrong.”

  A weight had formed in the pit of Finn’s stomach, and he swallowed a lump in his throat. “So, what did he say? What’s my sentence?”

  His dad took a deep breath and leveled his eyes on Finn. “He gave you a choice: two years in juvenile detention—”

  “Prison. Two years in prison.”

  “Or you complete high school at Lakeview Alternative School.”

  Finn shook his head, huffing incredulously. “Lakeview? How is Lakeview different from juvie? The building is surrounded by barbed wire. They wear orange jumpsuits, Dad.”

  “If you take the alternative school option, you’ll be home nights, weekends, and holidays.”

  “They want me to go there all two and a half years?” Finn couldn’t believe this was happening. He paced the room, his face growing hot, sweaty. “Everyone knows Lakeview is rough. It’s where they send the really bad kids; kids who attack their family members with knives and guns. Kids who hold up convenience stores.”

  “Kids who start fires,” his dad said softly.

  “I won’t survive thirty minutes in that place.” Finn hugged himself, his bony shoulders feeling even thinner than usual.

  “Prison is worse, Finn.”

  “I won’t graduate with my class. No sports. No clubs. My entire high school career will happen behind barbed wire.” Finn’s heart jackhammered. The air pressed in heavy and hot around him.

  “Finn, these are your choices. We agreed to live with the outcome of mediation. There are things I can try, but in the short term, you’ve got to decide. I think you should consider Lakeview.”

  Finn’s knees gave out and he sank to the couch.

  “There’s more. You’re banned from school grounds… starting immediately.”

  So that was that. He was cut off. He could get a degree but he couldn’t go to school, not really. There’d be no more football games. No more plays. No more parties with friends he saw in class. “Can I go to my room?” he asked, the words barely audible. He was going to lose it. On top of everything else, he didn’t want his father to see him cry.

  “Go ahead,” his father answered. “I’ll need to give them your decision by the end of day tomorrow. Think about Lakeview.”

  Finn rushed from the room, his eyes burning.

  4

  A Distant Hope

  I didn’t do it!” Hope yelled as her father ushered her into their Paris, Illinois home.

  “There was an eyewitness,” Jacob Laudner murmured. “And a video.”

  “It has to be a fake. Someone is setting me up.”

  Calmly, Jacob flipped the switch to start a fire in the fireplace and lowered himself into his recliner. It was easy for Hope to forget that her father was once a Soulkeeper who could wield water, in all its forms, like a weapon. He looked so ordinary now. I
n fact, at the moment, he looked exhausted.

  “I can’t get used to this thing,” he said, staring at the fireplace. “Whatever happened to chopping wood and using a match?”

  “It went out with TV antennas.” Hope hugged her chest, holding herself together at the seams. “What are we going to do? The police think I sold someone heroin. I’ve never even seen heroin. I don’t even know what it looks like. I was in the library that night. Nowhere near where the video was taken.”

  “It looked like you.”

  “There’s been a huge mistake.”

  “Sit down, Hope.” With a groan, she lowered herself onto the sofa. She wanted to cry. She desperately wanted to get past convincing her dad she was being set up and speed straight to breaking down in his arms.

  Her father stared at the flames for a moment, the light bringing out the slight gray in his hair at the temples. “I believe you.”

  “Thank God. Now wha—”

  He held up two fingers to silence her. “Is there something you’re not telling me? Something about the bigger picture?” He lowered his chin and raised an eyebrow in her direction. “Impersonation of a Soulkeeper is a tool of the dark one.”

  “The Devil? Demons? Fallen angels?” She wiggled her fingers in the air boogeyman style. “You and Mom and Gabriel have been teaching me and training me my entire life, and I’ve never even seen one. If what you tell me is true, there are none left.”

  “There are ways—”

  “I don’t want to be a Soulkeeper, and I sure as hell don’t want to be the last Soulkeeper. This is stupid.” She slammed the back of her head against the couch.

  The fire crackled, charging the air between father and daughter.

  “We don’t get to choose,” he said softly. “There are things we can control in life and things we can’t. Being what you are, the last Soulkeeper, is not something you get a choice about.” He picked an invisible piece of lint off his sleeve. “Your mom and I know better than anyone. We lived your fate. You can dance with your friends and you can do the same homework and take the same tests, but you are not like them, Hope. You’re supernatural.”

  “Shhh. Dad just stop!” She covered her ears.

  “Did Gabriel come to see you today?”

  Hope groaned. “Yes. He’s been nagging me for weeks.” She checked the time. Midnight. “Gabriel, are you here?”

  The angel manifested in the center of the family room, scratching the stubble on his jaw. He leaned against the fireplace, exchanging nods with Jacob before speaking. “I tried to tell you, Hope. You’ve been called. If you deny the call, you prolong the inevitable.”

  Her face tightened as an idea, too horrible to consider seriously before, formed bright and possible at the forefront of her mind. “You did this to me.”

  “I warned you.”

  Her mouth fell open. “You did this to force me to do whatever He wants?”

  “You did this to you,” Gabriel said in a low and steady tone. “Your avoidance has set events into motion that even I cannot change.” He pressed a hand into his chest. “I have a message for you, Hope Laudner.”

  “Again with the message business. Fine. Tell me your message.” Hope tugged at her skirt, suddenly aware she was still in her dance squad uniform.

  “You have been given full Healer status. Today, your initiation ends.”

  “Amen.”

  “Beware, Soulkeeper. Use of your healing power will now come with a price. Use your gift sparingly and wisely.”

  “Sparingly. Any way I can turn that into not at all?”

  “Where is your triquetra?”

  “The necklace you gave me? In my room. Why?” She hated wearing the symbol of her calling. Hated even more using it.

  “You must visit the In-Between as soon as possible. Souls have gone missing. As you know, there is only one fallen angel left on Earth and he is currently living in Los Angeles. While he’s the most likely suspect, Death has confirmed that the loss of souls does not coincide with his location. We think there’s something else going on here.”

  The In-Between was the home of Death, Time, and Fate—the Immortals. Although Hope knew she could go there and ask them for help, she avoided it at all costs. The process of getting there was uncomfortable and the Immortals themselves, often testy. Unless demons charged up her street tomorrow, she’d rather lick a public toilet.

  “Do you think Lucifer has found another way?” Jacob scooted to the edge of his chair.

  “That is what He would like Hope to find out.” Gabriel’s eyes landed fully on her.

  “Ugh! So, you’re saying in order to make this all go away, I have to cooperate, like it or not? Fine. What do I need to do to get my life back?”

  Gabriel met her gaze, his eyes burning like blue fire. “The first step is for you to plead guilty to selling heroin.”

  5

  Admissions

  Finn didn’t come down until the next morning. His fitful night’s sleep left his short hair twisted to the point his scalp ached, but he made no effort to smooth down the wild blond mess on his way to breakfast. What did he care? Personal hygiene was the least of his problems.

  “I bought donuts,” his father said. “Angel Creme. Your favorite.” His words were hesitant and tempered, like he wanted to say much more, wanted to ask for Finn’s decision but was holding himself back. The closest Angel Creme was ten miles away. How long had he been up?

  “Thanks.”

  Finn selected a glazed donut and took a small bite. He wasn’t hungry. Who could think about eating at a time like this, when his life hung in the balance? His father sipped his coffee but didn’t bother with a donut. Instead, he took a deep breath and stared at the box.

  At the disappointment evident in his father’s sagging shoulders, Finn’s chest ached. The only picture in his father’s office was of Finn’s mother, who’d died when he was a baby. Chances were his father would never have another child. His dad deserved a kid he could be proud of, a descendant who could live up to his expectations. Instead he got Finn. Would he avoid telling anyone where his son went to school? Or that he had a son at all?

  “Dad, I’m—” A lump formed in his throat and he tried unsuccessfully to clear it away. “I’m sorry.” The words were soft and tore apart when they hit the air between them.

  His dad frowned and reached under his glasses to pinch the space between his eyes. “It’s not forever. I’m going to fight this.”

  Finn nodded.

  The chime of the doorbell interrupted the funeral-like atmosphere. His dad scrubbed a hand over his face and glanced at his watch. “Who the hell could that be?”

  “It’s not even eight,” Finn said.

  “I gave the housekeeper the day off. I’ll get it.” He moved for the foyer. Finn followed more out of curiosity than anything else. A strange sensation prickled the underside of his skin, strongest at the base of his skull. He scratched the back of his head as his dad tugged open the massive wooden door.

  The man on the front stoop did not belong there. He did not belong anywhere. Not in this neighborhood. Not on any day but Halloween. Costumed in tall black riding boots and stretchy khaki jodhpurs, he wore a red jacket with tails and three gold buttons secured over a white shirt. On his head, a black bowler hat covered silver hair. A white-gloved hand tipped the hat as he bowed, gray eyes trained on Finn. For the duration of the bow, the man clutched a leather messenger bag to his side as if it contained something precious.

  “I apologize for the early hour. I’m looking for Finn Wager.” The man’s voice was low and smooth as silk. The round wire frames of his glasses bobbed with the contraction of his smile.

  “I’m Finn.”

  His parchment skin wrinkled at the corners of his eyes, his cheeks twitching with a hint of a yellow-toothed smile.

  “Who are you, and what do you want with my son?” Finn’s dad asked.

  The man tugged a white riding glove from his hand. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am
Wulfrid Ravenguard, admissions counselor for the Revelations Institute.”

  Finn’s dad shook his head—clearly he’d never heard of it—but he politely shook the man’s hand anyway.

  “We heard of Finn’s predicament and wanted to discuss possible enrollment,” the man qualified.

  His father backed up a few steps, opening the door wider. Ravenguard stepped into the foyer.

  “How exactly would you have heard of Finn’s predicament?”

  “Revelations is a progressive alternative school. We make it our business to find students we feel have the potential for excellence.”

  His father shook his head, squinting like he didn’t quite believe the man’s story.

  “You must have the wrong person,” Finn said. What was the point of lying? If there was some mix-up, he’d know soon enough anyway. “I’m not… Nothing about my academic record would suggest I have a potential for excellence.”

  “Revelations considers a number of factors other than academics. Be assured, we’ve already spoken to Judge Warren. Our school is a viable legal option for you.”

  With a frown and a scratch to the hair above his ear, Finn’s dad allowed the door to close. “Come in. Sit down.” He pointed a hand toward the dining room.

  The stranger’s eyes swept over the Chihuly glass sculpture at the center of their table. Potential for excellence his ass. Evidently, he was after a sizable donation. Finn suspected he’d recognized the Wager name, his father’s name. The Revelations Institute wanted to cash in.

  The man removed a brochure from his leather satchel before sitting down. At well over six feet tall, he dwarfed the chair beneath him. Finn hadn’t noticed the man’s above-average size before, probably because the stranger had been standing on the recessed front porch, but across the table from him, it was impossible not to notice.