The Black Coats Page 10

  “Thank you,” wheezed Robin. “As I was saying, I’m happy to see you here today. I fought hard to get you into the Black Coats.”

  Thea wasn’t sure what else to say, so she simply nodded. “I’m so grateful to be here, ma’am.”

  Robin turned her head and looked at Thea with intensity, her eyes seeing much more than they let on. She coughed once more. “Tell me, Thea, what do you think is the difference between justice and vengeance?”

  The question took her by surprise, and her heart gave a nervous flutter, like the beating of a hummingbird’s wings. Was this another part of the initiation? A test? She knew she couldn’t wait very long to answer and cleared her throat. “Um, well, I would guess that justice serves others, where maybe vengeance only serves yourself.”

  The corners of Robin’s mouth turned up just a little. “That’s not a bad answer—for now. I think you’ll find that even the Black Coats struggle with answering that question. And they will especially when I’m gone.” She took a mighty breath in, and Thea could tell that talking exhausted her. “When I started the Black Coats, I thought taking revenge would erase the scars on my heart, that it would somehow undo the trauma of my assault.”

  “And did it?” Thea crouched in front of her wheelchair as Robin looked down at her, her eyes focused on something that had happened long ago.

  Robin shook her head. “When a trauma comes from a human hand, it marks you forever. There is a long black road between the assault, revenge, and recovery, and unfortunately, you will walk it alone.” Her lips twitched. “In the winter of my life, I’ve begun to think that scars can’t be erased with more scars.” Her eyes lit up on something that moved just behind Thea, and she blinked back to reality before dismissing her with a wave. “I’m sorry. Go back to the party and ignore these ramblings of a dying woman. I’m glad I got to speak to you, Thea. Be magnificent for the women we serve.”

  Thea watched in silence as a strong hand clutched Robin’s shoulder, and then Sahil knelt to kiss her cheek. The luminary grabbed on to his hand lovingly, patting it twice. Thea’s eyes widened. Robin Peterson is Sahil’s mother? The resemblance was clear. Though Sahil must have gotten his coloring from his father, he had the same nose and grin as the luminary. Robin reached up with a shaking hand to brush his cheek, and Thea felt guilty for witnessing such an intimate moment.

  Robin whispered something to Sahil, and he turned her wheelchair, pushing her back into the folds of Mademoiselle Corday. Thea waited a second before making her way down from the little alcove onto the Haunt floor. There she continued mingling, her mind lingering on Robin’s words. What did she mean, the black road?

  “Thea. Thea.” Nixon’s voice snapped her out of her stupor.

  “Yes, ma’am,” she answered dreamily.

  Nixon waved to the door. “I must speak privately with you.”

  Thea followed her president into the hallway just outside the Haunt as older Black Coats passed by them, laughing and swaying to the music. Nixon turned to Thea, her voice dropping to a whisper. “The celebration will be winding down soon. I need you to go and gather Team Banner and meet back in our classroom. But before you go, I need to speak with you about something. Something not to be shared with the rest of Team Banner.”

  Thea shifted her weight uncomfortably. “All right.”

  “As the leader of your team, you are privileged to one essential piece of information that they are not: while each of your gifts is important to your team, there is one member of your team who you need to protect above all, and that’s—” Nixon didn’t even need to finish.

  “Bea,” answered Thea, acknowledging something she had long suspected.

  Nixon looked relieved that Thea had already made the connection. “Yes. Bea is very important to us here at the Black Coats. We’ve never had anyone come through here with a gift like that. I fought the luminaries hard for her, even though Julie had other plans. So if ever there is a moment where things get dicey, Bea is always your priority, above the safety of the others. Do you understand?”

  Thea stared back at Nixon’s dark eyes, anger settling in her chest at the idea that she would leave the rest of her team behind if the chips fell.

  “Yes, ma’am,” she snapped. “I understand.”

  Nixon spun on her sharp heel. “Watch that tone, Thea. Round up Team Banner and meet me in the classroom.”

  With her cheeks burning, Thea turned back to the Haunt.

  Ten minutes later, buzzing with happiness, Team Banner burst into the classroom. Bea put her arms out and twirled in a slow circle. “I have never loved anything more than I have loved this coat. Not a single thing.”

  Thea smiled, feeling the same. The girls admired one another’s coats, each tailored perfectly to its owner and her skill. Louise’s was extraordinarily light so that her whole body was completely free to move. Mirabelle’s coat was short and tight—perfect for showing off her curves—but had pockets inside, perfect for hiding weapons. Casey’s had little compartments inside the wrist area for keys and flash drives, along with metal spikes along the shoulders and wrist. Bea’s coat was by far the most beautiful and elaborate; it fell all the way to the floor and the back was lined with long strips of ornate black fabric. The garment was hooded, and when Bea pulled her coat on, she looked powerful and mysterious rather than like the bumbling, adorable girl they all knew. It was mildly alarming how well the Black Coats knew them—what to downplay and what to emphasize.

  Nixon strode into the room, and the talking stopped. “I won’t keep you long—I know we’ve all had an exhausting night.” She stepped up to the front of the room, her eyes softening momentarily. “Team Banner, you made the right choice today and solidified my belief that adding this team was the right idea. Which is good, considering that tomorrow night, you have your first Balancing.” Nixon placed the envelope on the table. “I’ll see you there, Team Banner.” Then she walked out.

  The team stood in a circle around the table, staring down at the envelope. “Are we really doing this?” whispered Bea.

  Thea felt the moment turning around her, felt the eyes of the girls resting on her face, the weight of expectations and fears. Then she remembered the picture she had seen of Natalie’s body, her long legs tangled up, pale and plastered with muddy leaves, her bare toes blotted with black dirt.

  She confidently reached for the envelope. “Yes, we are.” Then she opened the envelope, took out the soft paper, and spread it on the table for all to read:

  TEAM BANNER, CODE MORNING

  TARGET NAME: Arthur Brewe

  DATE OF BALANCING: February 28, 10:00 p.m.

  OFFENSE: Arthur Brewe is a student at Coventry University who has been taking pictures/videos of sexual conquests and then selling them to pornography companies. He blackmails his victims so that they will not press charges, by threatening to release these pictures to their parents, family, and friends.

  BALANCING: Seduction of Mr. Brewe, followed by a threatening and confiscation of all his technology, as well as any pictures he may have in his possession.

  Good luck!

  Signed,

  The Black Coats

  Thirteen

  At almost ten o’clock on the following night, Thea was perched on her windowsill, listening with her head cocked to her parents snoring across the hall. The stillness was pierced by Alma, who lifted her head under Thea’s comforter on the bed and whined.

  “Stay!” hissed Thea. “Lie down!” Alma dutifully obeyed.

  Thea heard the purr of an engine outside the window and smiled nervously. Team Banner was here. Her black coat flapping in the wind, Thea leaned out the window, crouching to avoid the gaze of her neighbors. The cul-de-sac was curled up like a sleeping cat; nothing moved.

  Thea reached for the tree branch. It was just a short scramble across the branch before she could step onto the roof. She leaped quietly down one level before shinnying across a short drainpipe to the ground. The grass provided a soft landing, and within seco
nds she was darting across her lawn.

  The car door swung open for her, and she squeezed between Bea and Louise in the back seat. “What’s up, Catwoman?” Casey laughed. “That was quite a show. I literally just walked out my front door.”

  Thea grinned. “Honestly, it was easier than I thought it would be.”

  Bea patted her hand reassuringly. “You’re awesome, Thea!”

  Casey drove quietly down the street before gunning the engine at the stop sign. “Be careful!” snapped Mirabelle.

  Casey silenced her with a look. “My job on this team is to drive. Your job is to be pretty.”

  “And kick ass,” piped up Bea from the back.

  “Thanks, Bea.” Mirabelle rolled her eyes before turning her head away from Casey. “You may be the driver, but this is still my car.”

  Casey reached out and petted the dashboard lovingly. “And yet her loyalty is already turning.” The engine roared, and they shot out onto the dark highway.

  There were a few moments of darkness before the dim glow of headlights illuminated the interior of the car. Thea looked back to where a sleek black car followed closely. “Nixon?”

  “Without a doubt,” answered Casey.

  The car was silent after that, the miles stretching out before them. Thea figured she should be giving them some sort of pep talk, but she was just as nervous as the rest of them and knew it would come across as false. How could she inspire when her own heart was pounding? “Does anyone have any questions?” Her words were met with unnerved silence.

  Bea swallowed hard next to her. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  “Hell no, you will not be!” snapped Mirabelle. “That is custom leather! Get your shit together, Bea!”

  Thea reached over and pulled Bea’s hood back from her face. “Take a deep breath, okay? Casey? Window?”

  “On it.” Casey rolled down Bea’s window.

  Louise smiled. “We’re almost there anyway.” In the distance, the lights of Coventry University rose over the hill. While its stone walls and secluded corridors were reminiscent of Ivy League schools, its reputation for protecting predators was even stronger. And its local bar, the Railway Scout, was junior Arthur Brewe’s preferred hunting ground.

  Casey parked the car outside the bar, carefully backing it into a dark corner. Mirabelle ripped open the envelope on the console. A fake ID tumbled out and Casey picked it up with a sneer. “Your name is Ashleigh Smith, and you’re from Big Sur, California.”

  “Yup, that’s home.” Suddenly, Mirabelle’s thick Texas accent was replaced by a cool Californian tone. Even her posture changed: tightly wound Mirabelle relaxed into Ashleigh, slumping against the seat, her shoulders down. Thea was impressed. As Mirabelle then uncurled herself from the car, her thin T-shirt rode up over her torso. Dark blue jeans rode low on her hips, and long gold earrings flashed in the light.

  “Nice outfit,” deadpanned Casey. “You look like . . .”

  Mirabelle raised her eyebrow. “An easy mark?”

  Casey leaned back. “Yeah, actually. You look just naive enough.”

  Mirabelle snarled. “See now, you saying that is part of the problem. I should be able to dress however I want and not be able to attract a predator. Whatever you wear and whatever you do at a bar does not give someone the right to take what he wants, which is exactly what Arthur Brewe does. Ugh.” Mirabelle flipped down the car mirror. “This lipstick is the wrong color. Anyway . . . Louise, you coming?”

  Louise climbed out of the car. She was nondescript, wearing simple jeans, a black T-shirt, and her black coat, practically invisible next to shining Mirabelle. Thea felt like she should say something and leaned forward, pulling in her team.

  “This is it, ladies. Let’s do it.” She took a breath in. “Soulevez-vous, femmes de la vengeance,” she whispered, butchering the French. They repeated it after her, as the two girls stepped away from the car. “Good luck, Mirabelle. Louise.”

  “It’s Ashleigh! And I’ll be fine.” Thea was reassured by Mirabelle’s unwavering belief in herself as she tossed her mane of golden hair over her shoulder. “Bradford Dorm, room three-o-six, one hour.”

  Casey drove off, leaving two of their team members behind in the dust. It felt strange. There was only silence as Casey drove a mile down to the college, parking in a leafy spot beside Bradford Dorm. Part of Casey’s job was to know the layout of each and every location that they visited, and so far, she was flawless.

  “So, we just wait now?” Casey turned the car off and began nervously tapping her nails.

  “Yup,” piped up Bea from the back, her voice quaking.

  Thea’s body was tense. It felt wrong to be in the dark while Louise and Mirabelle were out there starting a Balancing. Whatever they were doing, it couldn’t be worse than just waiting. She turned to Bea with a smile. “Someone, please talk.”

  Casey ignored her and instead pulled out a tattered copy of The Perks of Being a Wallflower. “I’ve got homework. Talk among yourselves.”

  “So, Bea . . .”

  Her friend let an embarrassed smile pull at the corners of her mouth. “I know exactly what you want to ask.”

  Thea gave a hollow laugh. “Okay, so apparently you are psychic as well?” Bea groaned as she continued. “I don’t have just one question; I have all the questions. When did you learn how to hypnotize people? How did you learn? Where . . .”

  Bea looked down shyly, her frizzy dark hair falling over her forehead.

  “Well, it runs through the Hopwood women, really. My grandmother was the first member of my family to show signs of the gift. This is really cool—she actually traveled around with the circus, though they will deny it if you ever ask about it.”

  Thea sat back in her seat. “Wow.”

  Bea grinned. “Yeah, I love our history. In her later years, my grandmother became a big proponent of hypnosis in terms of behavioral conditioning in children and rehabilitation for prisoners. My mom is a social worker at a counseling center here in Austin. She occasionally is called on to use hypnosis for victims of domestic abuse, but she really lives for the social-worker part of her job. I’ve grown up with stories of women and kids with black eyes, bloody noses, and broken wrists.”

  The dark of the car swallowed Bea’s quiet voice as a burst of wind rustled the leaves overhead. Thea patted Bea’s knee.

  “So that’s why you’re here, on the Black Coats.”

  Bea nodded. “I’ve seen too many women hurt by broken men. I was taught very early to use hypnotism. I’m not as good as my grandmother was, but I’m better than my mom. I am, however, quicker than both of them. I can get people out pretty fast.” She sighed. “My mom says it’s because I’m a product of my impatient generation.”

  Bea’s eyes shone in the streetlights. “But for once, I feel like I belong somewhere. I want to use hypnosis to help people, to—”

  “Quiet!” interrupted Casey, her eyes darting to the rearview mirror. “They’re here.”

  Thea pressed back against the seat, trying her best to blend in with the gray leather. Bea ducked, and Casey sat still as a stone.

  “That was fast,” Thea whispered. Really fast. Through the window she could see Mirabelle making her way to the front of the dorm, her arm linked loosely around Arthur Brewe’s shoulder and her body swaying drunkenly with each step. Louise was standing nonchalantly out of sight on the opposite side of the dorm, sweaty from her run.

  “You’re up,” whispered Casey, but Thea was already slipping out the back door. Crouching in the shadows, she gently shut the car door, silently measuring the distance from the car to the front door. Mirabelle’s loud laughter swallowed any sounds. Thea stared intensely at Arthur Brewe as he struggled to get the door open. Mirabelle stumbled against him and his key card slipped from his hand onto the ground. They looked at each other for a minute before dissolving into hysterical giggles.

  “You’re so drunk!” slurred Mirabelle. “I got it; I got it.” She bent down, giving Arthur a
generous view down her shirt. Thea saw her switch the cards and watched as the real card fluttered to the ground behind Mirabelle’s back. The eye of the motion-sensor camera followed Mirabelle and Arthur as they slipped through the door to Bradford Dorm. Thea burst out from behind the car, quickly closing the distance between the car and the door. The camera was already turning back in her direction, but Thea was fast, scooping the card up in her palm before racing back to the car, just beyond the view of the camera. As soon as she reached the vehicle, she exhaled. “Got it.”

  Getting his key card was of utmost importance. The key-card sensors for the dorm were high-tech; visual security was not. Cameras were situated only by the main entrance, leaving the back vulnerable—as long as she could unlock it. She felt the key card, warm in her palm. “Casey, take us around. Let’s not leave Mirabelle with that treasure of a man any longer than we need to.” The car pulled up to the back of the dorm, and Louise poked her head in the window.

  “Are we ready?” she asked nervously.

  “No,” Bea said flatly.

  Casey wiggled her shoulders. “Absolutely.”

  Thea pulled her collar up over the sides of her face. “Either way, it’s time.”

  Team Banner grabbed their black backpacks from the trunk and, on Thea’s signal, swiftly approached the rear entrance of the dorm. They were covered by a thick canopy of stone, and as she reached the door, Thea grinned at the irony: Coventry’s grandiose architecture had inadvertently given them the perfect cover.

  “Allow me.” She ran Arthur Brewe’s card over the lock. It snapped open, and Team Banner made their way into Bradford Dorm. Casey took the lead, and they followed her through a winding set of back staircases and tight hallways of dorms.

  Bea reached up and covered her nose. “It smells disgusting in here.”

  “It’s definitely making me rethink dorm living,” whispered Louise.

  The small unmarked staircase sat at the end of the hallway, jutting out between the laundry room and a wide window that overlooked the campus. Silently, the team slipped up the stairs, the blackness of the hallway swallowing their forms. Mirabelle had left the door unlocked, as promised, and they slipped in easily, Thea closing the door and bolting it behind them.