CHAPTER 21
I’D SEEN MOVIES where blindfolded people were able to tell where they were going, based on some innate talent to sense motion and direction. Not me. After a few turns, I couldn’t have told you where in Palm Spring we were-especially since I suspected Trey was taking a slightly roundabout way in order to make sure there wasn’t a tail. The only thing I was certain of was when we got on I-10, simply because of the feel of the freeway. I didn’t know what direction we were headed and had no way to accurately time how long we traveled either.
Trey didn’t offer much in the way of conversation, though he did give short answers whenever I asked questions. “When did you join the vampire hunters?”
“Warriors of Light,” he corrected. “And I was born into it.”
“That’s why you’re always talking about family pressure and why so much is expected of you, isn’t it? It’s why your dad is so concerned about your athletic performance.”
I took Trey’s silence as an affirmative and pushed on, needing to get as much information as possible. “How often do you guys have your, um, meetings? Are you always having those brutal tests?” Until very recently, there had been nothing to suggest Trey’s life was much different from any other high school athlete who kept up with his grades, a job, and an active social life. In fact, thinking of all the things Trey usually did, it was hard to imagine him having any time at all for the Warriors.
“We don’t have regular meetings,” he said. “Well, not someone at my level. We wait until we’re called, usually because a hunt’s under way. Or sometimes we conduct competitions, in order to test our strength. Our leaders travel around, and then Warriors gather from all different places in order to be ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“The day when we can end the vampire scourge altogether.”
“And you really believe this hunt is the way to do it? That it’s the right thing to do?”
“Have you ever seen them?” he asked. “The evil, undead vampires?”
“I’ve seen quite a few of them.”
“And you don’t think they should be destroyed?”
“That’s not what I’ve been trying to tell you. I don’t have any love for Strigoi, believe me. My point is that Sonya’s not one of them.”
More silence.
Eventually, I felt us exit the freeway. We drove for a while longer until the car slowed again and turned, onto a gravel road. We soon came to a stop, and Trey rolled down the window.
“This is her?” asked an unknown man.
“Yes,” said Trey.
“You turned off her cell phone?”
“Yes.”
“Take her in then. They’ll do the rest of the search.”
I heard a squeaking gate open, and then we continued on the gravel road until turning onto what felt like packed dirt. Trey stopped the car and turned it off. He opened his door at the same time someone on the outside opened mine. A hand on my shoulder nudged me forward.
“Come on. Get out.”
“Be careful with her,” warned Trey.
I was led from the car into a building. It wasn’t until I heard a door shut and latch that my blindfold was finally taken off. I was in a stark room with unfinished drywall and bare bulb lights in the ceiling. Four other people stood around Trey and me, three men and one woman. All of them looked to be in their twenties, and two were the guys who had stopped me at the cafe. Also, all of them were armed.
“Empty out your purse.” It was Jeff, the guy with buzzed dark hair, wearing a gold earring of the antique sun symbol.
I complied, dumping my purse’s contents onto a makeshift table composed of plywood set on top of some cinderblocks. While they sifted through it, the woman patted me down for wires. She had hair with a bad bleach job and a perennial snarl on her face, but at least her frisk was professional and efficient.
“What’s this?” Blond Hair from the cafe held up a small plastic bag filled with dried herbs and flowers. “You don’t look like the drug type.”
“It’s potpourri,” I said promptly.
“You keep potpourri in your purse?” he asked disbelievingly.
I shrugged. “We keep all sorts of things around. I took out all the acids and chemicals before I came here, though.”
He dismissed the potpourri as harmless and tossed it into a pile with other cleared items, like my wallet, hand sanitizer, and a plain wooden bracelet. I noticed then that the pile also included a pair of earrings. They were round gold discs, covered in intricate swirls and tiny gems. They were beautiful-but I’d never seen them before.
I certainly wasn’t going to call attention to anything, however, particularly when the woman snatched up my cell phone. “We should destroy this.”
“I turned it off,” said Trey.
“She might turn it back on. It can be tracked.”
“She wouldn’t,” argued Trey. “Besides, that’s a little paranoid, isn’t it? No one has that kind of technology in real life.”
“You’d be surprised,” she said.
He held out his hand. “Give it to me. I’ll keep it safe. She’s here on good faith.”
The woman hesitated until Jeff nodded. Trey slipped the phone into his pocket, and I was grateful. There were a lot of saved numbers that would be a pain to replace. Once my purse was deemed safe, I was allowed to put it back together and take it with me.
“Okay,” said Blond Hair. “Let’s go to the arena.”
Arena? I had a hard time picturing what that would entail in a place like this. My vision in the silver plate hadn’t shown me much of the building, save that it was single-story and had a ratty, worn look to it. This room seemed to be keeping right along with that theme. If the antiquated brochures were further proof of the Warriors’ sense of style, I expected this “arena” to be in someone’s garage.
I was wrong.
Whatever the Warriors of Light had lacked in other areas of their operation, they’d sunk it into the arena-or, as I was told its official name was, The Arena of Divine Radiance of Holy Gold. The arena had been built upon a clearing surrounded by several buildings. I wouldn’t go so far as to call it a courtyard. It was bigger, and the ground was more of that sandy packed dirt we’d driven in on. This setup was far from polished or high tech, yet as I took it all in, I couldn’t help but think of Trey saying the Warriors had come to town this week.
Because for them to have put this together so quickly… well, it was kind of impressive. And frightening. Two sets of rickety wooden bleachers had been erected on opposite sides of the space. One set held about fifty spectators, mostly men, of varying ages. Their eyes, suspicious and even hostile, were on me as I was led in. I could practically feel their gazes boring into my tattoo. Did they all know about the Alchemists and our history? They were all dressed in ordinary clothing, but here and there, I caught glimmers of gold. Many of them wore some kind of ornament-a pin, an earring, etc.-with either an ancient or modern sun symbol.
The other bleachers were nearly empty. Three men-older, closer to my dad’s age-sat side by side. They were dressed in yellow robes covered in golden embroidery that glittered in the orange light of the setting sun. Golden helmets covered their heads and were engraved with the old sun symbol, the circle with the dot. They watched me as well, and I kept my head high, hoping I could hide the shaking of my hands. I couldn’t present a convincing case for Sonya if I seemed intimidated.
Around the arena, draped on poles, were banners of all shapes and sizes. They were made of rich, heavy fabric that reminded me of medieval tapestries. Obviously, these weren’t that old, but they nonetheless gave the place a luxurious and ceremonial feel. The banners’ designs varied considerably. Some really did look straight out of history, showing stylized knights fighting against vampires. Looking at those gave me chills. I really had stepped back in
