Copper Veins(39)

“This is a trap.” I stood, dropping the sham procedural in the dirt. Max and Jerome looked up from the map. “Either this location has been compromised or Jerome’s nothing but a lying Peacekeeper.”

“I am not—” Jerome began, but it was hard to hear the rest once Max had twisted his arm behind his back and shoved his face onto the table.

“Got evidence?” Max demanded.

“Fake handbooks, just like the fake reports I used to sort at the real estate company,” I replied. “Our way-too-easy escape. That when we left where we were held the guard didn’t search the truck bed. The fact that we only have Polonsky’s word that he’s on our side. Even if he is on our side, his tracker chip should be screaming loud and clear that he’s left the base.” I ticked them off on my fingers, one by one. “Either Polonsky’s a plant, or the Peacekeepers knew he was coming and let him get us out.”

“Why bother with either?” Max asked. Jerome squawked about his innocence, but Max just ground his face into the table. “They already had us.”

“They must want us to do something,” Sadie murmured, seeing the truth of the matter. “But what?”

Jerome struggled a bit more, this time kicking at the dirt. “Max, ease up,” I said. “Let’s hear what he has to say.” It would be awfully inconvenient if Jerome suffocated. Bodies can be cumbersome, you know.

Max took the pressure off Jerome’s neck—after a few gulps of air, he said, “I am in the resistance. I have been since Peacekeepers killed my father.”

“When was that?” Max demanded.

“When I was twelve. Fifteen years ago.”

“Who was your father?” Max asked.

“Jorge Vasquez.”

That name meant nothing to me, but Max went still. “You’re Avatar’s kid?” Max asked.

Jerome nodded, and for a moment we just stared at him. Avatar had been the last known Inheritor of Air, and had died a grisly death during the Magic Wars. To date, no new Inheritor of Air had surfaced.

“Avatar was a good man,” Max murmured. “So was his brother, Galen. I spent time in the Institute with him. He made imprisonment bearable.”

“Thank you,” Jerome said, rubbing his neck. “My father and uncle shaped me into who I am today.”

Max looked Jerome up and down, and asked, “So why haven’t we ever met?” When Jerome blinked, Max continued, “Avatar was always near my father. They were great friends. Hell, he even came by for Sunday dinner.” Max leaned forward. “So, why didn’t he ever bring his son along with him? Why didn’t Galen ever mention a nephew?”

Jerome pursed his lips and looked away. “He was ashamed. I…I’m not of air.”

“How is that even possible?” Max demanded. “Elements are passed from father to child.”

“Elements can skip a generation,” Sadie chimed in, always ready with the facts. “Although it usually only happens when the mother also has a strong magical ability. And, they can be passed from mother to child, too.” She peered at Jerome as if he were a lab specimen. Good. Now a Peacekeeper knew how Max had felt while trapped in the Institute. “Your mother must have been very powerful to cancel out the Inheritor of Air.”

“Wait,” I said, holding up my hands. “If your father was an Inheritor, how are you a Peacekeeper? I mean, don’t they check these things?”

“Changed my name, dyed my hair. I blended in, just like you used to.” He looked pointedly at my copper hair, which I’d once dyed dirt-brown. However, I had never, not even once, contemplated changing my name. We Corbeaus were proud. Jerome continued, “The resistance set me up with a new family, and when I was eighteen, I enlisted.”

“Your chip?” I prompted.

“In my bunk at the base.”

“Your mother?”

“A weather witch from the Otherworld,” he replied. “I never really knew her. She always had her maids take care of me.”

“Huh,” Max said, rubbing his chin. “So that was the scandal with Jorge and his wife.”

Jerome dropped his eyes. “Yeah. She was pretty surprised when Dad introduced her to me.” Since we were all staring at Jerome, he continued. “My father didn’t meet me until I was seven, when my mother appeared at his door and told him that since she’d taken care of me for the first seven years, the next seven were all his. Dad was happy to have a son, but his wife hated me from the start.”

We were silent for a moment, the three of us staring at the Inheritor of Air’s wrong-side-of-the-blanket son. Thankfully, Max was still working out his plans.