Tortured: Book Three of the Jason and Azazel Trilogy Read online

  "Um," I said, "I was going to do it myself."

  "Wow," they all said, "what a cool idea."

  "Yeah. It's so simple."

  "And self-sufficient."

  "Amy, you're an inspiration."

  I felt like I was going to choke. I managed a half-smile. "I need to find my boyfriend," I said.

  "Oh!" said Faruza. "We've been hogging you all night, haven't we? I'm so sorry! Let's go find Jeremy." She took my arm and dragged me over to where Jason was standing. He was surrounded by a group of girls and guys. As I approached, I could hear their conversation.

  "So, where did you get that shirt?" one of the girls was asking.

  "I don't know," said Jason, sounding just as weirded out as I felt.

  "God," said one of the guys. "That's so cool. He doesn't even know where his clothes came from."

  "Yeah, dude, that's awesome," said another.

  Jason spotted me approaching. He reached out for my hand and pulled me close.

  "Hi," I said.

  "I am so happy to see you," he whispered in my ear.

  I nodded. "Me too," I mouthed. Then, more loudly. "Oh God, Jeremy, I left something in my dorm room. Can you come with me to get it?"

  "Of course," he said. "Good idea," he whispered. To the crowd of onlookers who had gathered around us, "Excuse us."

  The crowd parted to let us out. Jason clasped my hand, and we walked away as fast as we could. It was all I could do not to run.

  The rec center was on the opposite side of campus than the assembly hall. We started walking back in that direction. Within several minutes, we were out of sight of the rec center.

  "Okay," said Jason, "that was weird."

  "Yeah," I said. "What was that?"

  "If it's a prank, they're really putting a lot of effort into it."

  They were. And they all seemed so genuine. Why would they waste so much time being nice to us if they just wanted to make fun of us? "Do you think maybe it's not a prank?" I asked.

  Jason shot a glance at me. "You mean like they all suddenly think we're really awesome?"

  I swallowed. "Why would they think that?"

  Jason's jaw twitched. "I think George told them something. When he ran away from me, it seemed like he knew something, didn't he? Like he knew who we were."

  "But Faruza said she told George not to come tonight," I said. "And besides, would that make them like us?"

  "It might make them afraid of us," said Jason.

  Maybe. I considered. "So, then, wouldn't they run from us instead of being all sweet and nice?"

  Jason shook his head. "I don't know. I don't know. Maybe it's a prank."

  "Maybe," I said. It was strange that thinking it was a prank was a comforting thought. "But if it's a prank, then we just left Chance and Palomino to deal with the brunt of it."

  "We'll go back," Jason said.

  "But we'll be . . . messy," I said, shuddering a little. I didn't want to think about what we were getting ready to do. Not one bit.

  Jason had left the garbage bags inside the old church, at the top of the basement steps. It took a little doing to get the door unlocked. Jason had to pick it. We went in through the side like always, while I stood watch and looked for guards. No one seemed to be out tonight. At least not near the old church. I could see the back of the guards who stood at the entrance to the library. Apparently, those guys never left.

  The garbage bags were still there. But Jude's body wasn't.

  There wasn't a trace of him. No clothes, no blood, no marks from dragging a body on the floor. Nothing.

  Jason and I stood inside the small enclave of the basement, the light bulb swinging back and forth crazily, making the shadows dance on the wall, and we didn't move.

  "This isn't good," I finally whispered.

  "No," said Jason. "It's not."

  * * *

  Maybe Jude hadn't really been dead, I wondered. But Jason assured me that he had been. He hadn't had a pulse. He'd been fatally wounded. Jude had definitely been dead.

  Jude had been killed. We didn't know who had done that. Whoever had done it had known where Jude was, and no one except us knew where Jude was. Then someone had come in and moved his body. It was probably the same someone who had killed him, but we couldn't even be sure of that. It was unnerving. We were worried. Was it the Sons? Had they killed Jude to silence him? Was it Edgar Weem? Had he had Jude killed to silence him?

  Who could have done it and why?

  And part of me, no matter how much I told myself it was crazy, couldn't shake the worry that Jason had killed Jude and moved the body and that he was just lying to me about it, because he knew I didn't want him to kill Jude.

  I didn't want to go back to the party, but Jason said we had to or it might look suspicious. The only bright side the evening was that my clothes hadn't actually been ruined. We walked back across campus to the rec center, where the pavilion was lit up with Christmas lights and filled with people laughing and drinking. Almost immediately, we were jumped by the Weem twins and their entourage, but Jason and I stayed close this time.

  I wanted to find Chance and Palomino, so we wound through the bodies looking for them for nearly a half hour. Finally, we found them on the fringes of everything. Chance was drinking an expensive bottled beer, and Mina was drinking coke. They were sitting alone, just talking to each other.

  Jason and I sat down with them. I motioned the crowd who had followed us to go away. Reluctantly, they did.

  "You guys okay?" I asked.

  Chance and Mina both smiled at us brightly.

  "We're great," said Chance.

  "Yeah," said Mina. "We're having an awesome time."

  "Sorry that we got sidetracked by all those people," said Jason.

  "No problem," said Chance. "I can see why they'd want to talk to you."

  "We get to talk to you guys all the time," said Mina. "It would be selfish of us to hog you."

  Hog us?

  "Um . . ." I said, "well, we hang out with you guys because we like you, you know. We want to hang out with you."

  Mina beamed. "That's sweet. It's so cool that you said that."

  "Yeah," said Chance. "But the two of you have people to see. Don't worry about it, okay?"

  Jason and I exchanged a look over their heads. Was it just me, or was everyone suddenly starting to act really, really weird?

  * * *

  The week continued with increasing weirdness. On Monday, Professor Moretti read my paper on Things Fall Apart to the entire class, praising it as the most insightful and comprehensive treatment of the novel he'd ever read. When he was done, the entire class applauded.

  At lunch that day, Jason and I were barraged with people who wanted to sit with us. Fifteen people gushed over my outfit. The rest of the week continued the trend. Jason and I were excused from two tests because the teachers thought we'd "already proven our capabilities adequately." The head of the school invited us to a private lunch with him on Wednesday, where he told us how happy he was that we'd chosen his school and how the Sol Solis family was honored to count us as part of their ranks. Confused and a little fed up with this treatment, I'd asked him why. Did everyone know who we were, suddenly? Was that why everyone was behaving differently towards us?

  The head had replied that we were special. He knew that we weren't just normal students. And then he'd winked.

  Jason had looked positively sick when he saw the wink. He'd leaned forward across the table we shared with the head and asked, "How did you find out who we are?'

  The head had looked confused. "I think I always knew," he said. "But I had this idea to have you for a special lunch on Friday of last week, I think. It was late."

  Friday again. Faruza had mentioned that same night to me.

  It wasn’t conclusive evidence that the head knew Jason was the Rising Sun. He never used those words. But we were definitely getting special treatment. And we were getting it from everyone.

  Thursday we were back to our
crowded lunch table. Faruza and Fairie flanked us on either side, both with plates full of salads.

  As Faruza shook red wine vinegar on her salad, she looked at me. I had a plate with pasta salad and a hamburger. "Wow," said Faruza. "Amy, how do you stay so thin eating all of that?"

  I looked down at myself. "I'm not that thin," I said. I was kind of average looking. Not really skinny, but not fat either. Faruza and Fairie were both thin enough to be models or Hollywood actresses.

  Faruza speared a piece of lettuce with her fork. "You're totally thin," she said. "I really wish I looked like you."

  "Aren't you going to put some oil on that salad?" I said. "I thought it was supposed to be oil and vinegar, not just vinegar."

  "Oil is fat," spoke up Fairie.

  I looked around Jason at Fairie, who looked so earnest. Then I looked back at Faruza, also very serious. If being that thin meant I couldn't have olive oil, I didn't think I cared that much. Also, it was pretty clear that Faruza and Fairie had kind of unhealthy eating habits. Maybe I could use my newfound (and totally weird) celebrity for some kind of good. "If you want to look like me, Faruza," I said, "you should eat a hamburger."

  "White bread buns?!" exclaimed Fairie.

  "Red meat? Saturated fat?!" said Faruza.

  I nodded. "Yeah."

  "Hamburgers are good," said Faruza.

  "I'll go get some," said Fairie, running off to the lunch line.

  Jason laughed quietly to himself. I grinned at him.

  When Faruza took a bite of her hamburger, she made a small moaning sound. A satisfied sound. It was thanks enough.

  But not for Faruza, apparently. "Gosh, thank you so much for telling me to eat this," she said.

  "No problem," I said.

  "No, seriously," said Fairie, "you two seem to give so much, and you never get anything back."

  Jason arched an eyebrow. "What exactly do we give?"

  "So, so much," said Faruza. "Don't be modest."

  This whole situation was really, really weird, but it wasn't exactly all bad. I mean, it was kind of nice having people complimenting us all the time.

  "There's gotta be something we could do for you," said Fairie.

  "We're fine," I said. "Lots of people have been doing lots of nice things for us lately."

  Faruza sighed at Fairie. "This is why they're so great," she said. "They recognize the smallest kindnesses."

  The two of them looked at us with huge, admiring eyes.

  "Please," said Jason. "It's not that big of a deal."

  "What is it you guys want?" asked Faruza. "I mean, what is it you really want?"

  I want the Sons to stop chasing us, I thought. I want Jason and me to be normal kids. I want all of this to be over.

  "We have been trying to get into the library," said Jason. "But we haven't had any luck. Can't get around the guards."

  "You guys?" said Fairie. "I bet the guards would just let you in if you asked."

  "I bet they would," said Faruza. "Let's try this evening. After dinner? You want to?"

  I looked at Jason. It couldn't be that easy, could it?

  * * *

  It was a warm spring evening, still light as Jason, the Weem twins, and I crossed the lawn towards the library. The library loomed ahead of us in its somber glory. It was an old building, with ornate stone architecture decorating its corners. In front, as always, were the guards. They glared out at us. Overall, the library looked just as impenetrable as it always did. I didn't think this was going to work. But the Weem twins were sure that no one could deny us anything we wanted. And for the past week, it had seemed to be true. Even at dinner earlier, one of the cooks had asked Jason and me what we thought about the food. She'd offered to prepare something especially for us if we didn't like what was offered. We'd assured her that everything was fine.

  What was going on? I didn't know. It was creepy, but part of me didn't exactly want it to stop. Was that wrong? I didn't know that either.

  As we approached, one of the guards called out to us. "What are you kids doing here?"

  Great. See, I'd known this wasn't going to work. We should just go back to our dorms. Really.

  But Fairie just waved and scampered up to him. "We want to go into the library," she said.

  The guard looked us over. He gestured to Jason and me. "You two want to go in?" he asked.

  Jason nodded. "Yeah, for weeks now."

  "Why haven't you come by?" asked the guard, going to the door and unlocking it with one of his keys.

  "You're letting us in?" I asked, shocked.

  "Well, we don't just let anyone in," said the guard, "but you two and your friends, well, that's no problem."

  Okay, if things hadn't been officially weird before, they most definitely were now. The guard opened the door, a large, heavy wooden thing, and we walked inside.

  Inside the library, it was dark. There were a few hanging chandeliers, but they did little to shed light in the huge room. The library was exactly that—one enormous room. It was at least three stories high, and every wall was lined with books, all the way to the ceiling. In the center of the huge room were rows and rows of bookshelves, each groaning under the weight of their tomes. The ceiling was covered in an intricate mural painting of mythological creatures. Half-bulls, half-men, chimeras, Poseidon with his trident, mermaids, men carrying flaming swords, dead dragons. In certain places, the plaster was chipped and there were holes in the painting. We all stood inside the entrance for several minutes, simply taking the place in.

  "Amy, Jeremy," said a friendly voice.

  It was Professor Moretti. "Or," he continued, "should I say Azazel and Jason?"

  The Weem sisters both made identically confused faces. "Who?" they asked.

  Professor Moretti chuckled. "Don't worry about it, girls," he said. He nodded at a few computers along a desk near the entrance. They looked completely out of place in the ancient room. "You two want to check some email or something while I talk to them?'

  "Sure," said Faruza, bouncing over to the computers with her sister in tow.

  "You know who we are," said Jason to Moretti.

  "The Rising Sun and his consort," said Moretti. "It's an honor." And he bowed to us. Deeply.

  I took a step backwards, grabbing Jason's hand. Jason squeezed my fingers.

  "Um," said Jason, "you don't have to do that. The bowing thing."

  Moretti straightened, raising his eyebrows. "It's simply a token of respect," he said. "Respect which you both deserve."

  He was our teacher. He wasn't supposed to bow to us. He was an authority figure.

  "So," said Moretti. "What brings you two to the library?"

  "We're looking for information about the Rising Sun," Jason said.

  I shot Jason a sharp look. Should we be admitting this? We really should have talked strategy before getting into the library. But I hadn't really believed that we'd actually be able to get in. So it hadn't occurred to me to think about what we'd do after.

  "Actually," said Jason, "we kind of think the whole thing's a crock."

  Moretti raised his eyebrows even higher. "A crock?"

  "Yeah," said Jason. "I don't want to be the Chosen One or whatever, all right? People are always chasing us and trying to kill us, so we have to keep running. It sucks. We thought if we could find some information in this library that proves that I'm not the Rising Sun, then maybe everyone would just leave us alone."

  "You can't be serious," said Moretti. "There have been signs. You two experienced them. You can't honestly think that it isn't true."

  Jason and I looked at each other. We shrugged.

  Moretti sighed. "This is going to be harder than I thought," he muttered. "Come with me."

  He started walking back through the stacks of books, without looking back to see if we were following.

  "Guess we go after him," Jason said, leading me forward.

  In the back of the room, there was a staircase. It was twisting and narrow, built entirely of
stone. We followed Moretti down into the bowels of the building. As we descended, the air got mustier. The stone walls on either side of the staircase went from orderly rows of perfectly cut pieces to rougher stones, fit together at crazy angles. There were electric lights fastened to the walls, but their light seemed to get dimmer and dimmer as we made our way down the stairs.