The Survivors: Point of Origin (book 2)

Cold Heart/Warm Heart, pt. 1

After our strange conversation with Ava Bientrut, we collected all the documents, counted all the bodies, and left. We recovered documents for 114 people, and found 96 bodies. There were 47 houses in the field near Pickering. I didn't even look through each structure myself. On the train to London, I took out a red Sharpie from my bag and marked my right arm below my healing wound—a different color and a different arm for a different set of crimes. I had made only six tally marks before Everett took the marker from my hand and pleadingly said, "Stop."

We decided to go to Heathrow and devise a plan. I, of course, had already devised a plan for myself. I just hadn't shared it with them.

When we walked into the airport, I said, "I need to go to Salem, and I need to do it alone." Everett, Patrick, and Ginny all opened their mouths to speak, but I held up a hand. "I know you aren't okay with that, and so I ask that Mark come with me. It's kind of difficult to travel inconspicuously with all of us, and Mark can project back to you if he needs to. This is a fair compromise."

All three frowned, frustrated by my solid logic, I suppose.

"What about us?" Everett asked.

"I think you should go to California for a few days. You could use the warmth," I argued.

"What, like go home to Pacific Grove? Are you kidding? Go back to police tape and an entire city trying to recover from a massacre of 18 people killed on a sleepy street? Yeah... no thanks," he said.

"Fine, then go wherever you want. We can all meet back in the Survivors' City in maybe five days or a week, but, in the meantime, you could use the warm weather," I said.

"That's a long time to be on your own," Everett protested.

I didn't entertain his objection.

"What about us?" Valentin asked.

"We could use you," Patrick interjected. "If you are going to fight with us, there are some things you should know. Perhaps we could use this time to catch you up."

"Certainly," Valentin said. Narcisa agreed.

Parker narrowed her eyes. "I want to go with Sadie."

Again, another remark from her that came out of left field. Pushing a thought outside the bulwark in his mind, Mark hissed, I don't trust her.

I didn't either. "Why?" I asked her, my voice clearly displaying my suspicion.

"If the Winters get one of their clan on your protection detail, I want one of ours. I can project, too, like Mark. Two is better than one, right?" she argued.

That sold Everett. "Two is better than one," he agreed.

I glared at him. Mark did too, but he didn't back down.

"Fine," I said. I didn't trust her, but if nothing else, maybe this would be the time to figure her out. "It's settled then. Mark, Parker, and I will fly to Boston. Ginny, Everett, Madeline, you'd like what?"

"San Francisco is fine," Ginny nodded.

"Patrick, where am I sending you and our guests?" I asked.

"Calgary," he said. I got in line the first class line at the ticket counter. Thirty minutes and over £5000 a ticket—about $78,000— later, we had procured nine first-class tickets back across the Atlantic for flights that left within the next three hours.

"You are such a liar," Mark whispered in my ear.