Book of Revenge Page 17

  “Max told me something about Washington, and my parents being murdered. Beyond that, it all went up in the air,” I threw in with a shrug.

  She nodded. “Yeah, somethin’ like that. Our parents did die, though I didn’t. We were one of the only flight families left, so escape was easy, but naturally our parents thought they could save everyone. They died while doing it.” She said it as though it were no big deal. “Freakin’ hippies. Out to save the world.”

  I digressed. “Flight family? What do you mean?”

  “Yeah, you know… birds.” Her voice was mocking in the same way mine often was. “Feathers. Beaks.Talons… dumb birds.”

  “I’m not a bird.” I protested openly. “I’m more the large feline type.”

  Lacy shook her head and snorted. “Well, you can forget about that. You’re destined to squawk, my brother.”

  “But…” I frowned.

  Lacy grunted. “Of all the things I just told you, the thing you care the most about is the fact that you’ll be a bird?” I saw that her eyes were wide, incredulous. “What the heck do they feed you around here?”

  I drew in a deep breath. “Well, in my defense, I never knew our parents. They’ve always been dead to me. Why try to pretend I care?”

  She looked stung.

  “I’m sorry. But you’ve got to see my side of this.” I tapped my chest with my hand. “I’m a little shocked as it is. I’m just trying to take this in stride. Here I am, alone and liking it that way, and this owl,” I pointed at Stella, “came and decided to follow me around and then ‘poof!’ here comes a sister as well?”

  Lacy sighed. “Okay, well… Our parents died and I moved to Oregon, alone. I didn’t think I had a brother, either, and then ‘poof!’ I come looking for her,” she looked at Stella, “and I find you.”

  I could see no one was going to win this. We both stared at Stella as though she were the one to blame. Stella just burrowed deeper into her nest.

  I changed away from the pointless subject. “Is Stella like us?” The question had been bothering me.

  Lacy glared. “Oh… no. No, no, no.” She flagrantly shook her head. “Missy is just a pet.”

  A condescending laugh passed my lips. “An owl with a pet owl?” I tilted one brow.

  Lacy’s features scrunched together. “Yeah. So?”

  We both chuckled, and I was surprised by how at ease I suddenly felt. It was as though it was a natural thing—it was natural. Lacy’s laugh matched mine, her subtle features, and of course, our hair and eyes. I could already tell she had the same defensive nature as Emily, and I couldn’t help but think that they’d get along. For whatever reason, I’d already allowed Lacy into my life, no legal proof needed.

  I stopped laughing. “How exactly do you know I’m your brother?”

  Lacy shivered under the blanket. “I had a photo of you.” She looked me up and down as I stood. “You were about ten. You’re eyes give you away, though. Eyes always do for beings like us.” She shivered again, more dramatically. “Geez, ever heard of heat?”

  I laughed. “You’re a wild animal, what do you care about heat?”

  Lacy reached over and messed up Stella’s feathers. “Down feathers… sort of lacking them right now. You sure are daft.”

  She had a point. I walked to the closet that was overflowing with clothes. I began to pick through, smelling each garment until I had a complete, clean outfit. “Here.” I handed her the clothes.

  She grasped them through a crack in the blanket.

  “I can get some proper clothes from Emily tomorrow,” I added.

  “Emily? Who’s she?”

  I’d almost forgotten that Lacy knew nothing of my life. For what it was worth, it felt as though she’d always been a part of it, like I’d known she was out there, but hadn’t acknowledged it. “You really didn’t know I was here, alive?”

  She shrugged. “No. Truthfully, I came looking for Missy and found you. Like I said: ‘poof!’ my brother is alive! Not that I’m all that surprised, though.”

  I nodded. “I’m more surprised than you seem to be.”

  Lacy pulled the shirt over her head, large enough that she could do so without having to remove the comforter. “I guess I always knew I’d run into you one day. I mean, I thought you were dead, yeah.” She tapped her heart. “But not in here.”

  I nodded, thinking that it was the same way I’d felt about our parents. Clearly that wasn’t the case—they really were gone forever.

  “Missy used to obsess over your photo. Some sort of crush.” She rolled her eyes. “Owls have a keen sense of just about everything. I suppose her obsession drove her to finally find you. I’d been tracking her, but where I’m not a born expert at it like she is, I got a little lost.” She pulled the pants on under the comforter, finally allowing the comforter to fall away. She was spindly and tall, her features sharp. My jeans hung off her hips, her hand grabbing at least ten inches of fabric.

  “So this sort of reunion is typical for you?”

  Lacy giggled. “Don’t get me wrong. This is wild!” Her voice grew loud, her free hand waving emphatically. “I’m ecstatic. But for our kind, this type of thing happens all the time. We’re roving spirits, and if we get lost in our changelings we often forget about our human lives for years, sometimes decades. When we wise up and come back, it’s holy-cow reunion time.”

  “What do you mean by lost?”

  “Lost. Our animal spirit calls to us at all times. That’s the cravings you get. You do get them, right?”

  I nodded big.

  “Right. That’s healthy. It’s the animal spirit inside you. You have to indulge it. If you don’t, it will take more of your human spirit than you bargained for. You may end up trapped in the animal body. Being like us is like being a diabetic. You have to check your levels at all times. Listen to what your body is saying to you. Keep a constant balance.”

  My mouth hung open. I shut it. I tried to feel what my body wanted right now, but given the mix of emotion since she’d arrived, there was no clear answer. “Wait, so… what? Can you repeat that one more time? Elaborate?”

  She looked at me, her smile fading. “I can see I found you at the right time. You need serious help.” A light laughter escaped. “I feel sorry for you. You know nothing of who you are.”

  “No. I don’t,” I agreed.

  “Such an unfortunate thing,” she murmured under her breath before stepping toward me suddenly, arms outstretched. “So, Wesley, how about a hug?”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Wesley?”

  Lacy didn’t bother to wait for me to give her permission. She hopped toward me, wrapping her arms around my neck and giving me the biggest hug her little body could possibly allow. “This is our first hug! Can you believe it?” She sighed longingly against my chest.

  I gave her an awkward pat on the back. “Sure. Okay.”

  She giggled and pulled back. “I’m assuming I can stay for a while, then? You don’t mind.” It was more of a statement than a question.

  I nodded, not seeing any other choice.

  “So, who’s Emily?” she asked again, skipping back to my bed and hopping on beside Stella. She leaned her back against the headboard. “This is amazingly comfortable.”

  I resumed my position in the chair. For whatever reason, the chip I’d held on my shoulder since the day I was old enough to know about my parents began to crumble. As we talked, something inside me swelled in the region of my heart that had remained dormant for far too long—I had a real family.

  We talked for what felt like hours, and soon, sunlight replaced the dim morning light and it was almost time to leave for school.

  “Wait, so just to reiterate, Emily’s not a shifter?” Her mouth was agape after I’d finished telling her everything about Emily, Max, Jane, and of course, Greg.

  I stood, throwing a jacket on and skipping a shower all together. I grabbed my book bag off the floor, ignoring her question and knowing she just wanted to judge me again. “I
need to go to school.”

  Lacy was still gawking, but stood. “Wait, take me with you. I want to meet your friends.” She was far too ecstatic—far too much of a handful, considering the day.

  “How about you wait here,” I offered instead.

  She stood near the door, my shirt hanging off her tiny shoulders. “Whyyyyy…” she whined. Clearly no one had been around much to teach her manners.

  “Whyyyy don’t you go hunting or something? You’re too thin,” I joked.

  She frowned. “I want to go with you,” she emphasized.

  I laughed. “School sucks.”

  Her head fell. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been,” she murmured.

  My thumb was latched under the strap of my backpack. “Then it’s not worth starting now. You won’t know anything. You’ll just make a fool of yourself. Besides, it’s not like you’re missing anything fun.”

  She growled at me. “I know plenty,” she retorted. “More than you, I bet.”

  I saw stubbornness in her expression, the same stubbornness that burned inside me. I grinned. “Okay, then. Tomorrow I’ll sign you up. Then we’ll see what you’re made of. But for today, just stay here. You need to settle in and get some clothes. And don’t venture downstairs. Not yet. You’ll terrify Gladys to death.”

  “And that’s a bad thing?” she challenged.

  My eyes narrowed. “Just stay here or fly out the window. Wait until I come home.”

  She sighed in defeat. “Fine.” She stamped her foot for further effect.

  “I’ll bring Emily along with me when I come back.” I brushed past her and walked out into the hall. “Maybe,” I whispered to myself.

  She gave me one last disapproving look before I shut the door on her. I gathered myself, bounding down the stairs and out into the daylight. Emily was already leaning against the car, looking annoyed.

  “What took you so long?”

  My whole body was buzzing. “You won’t believe what I have to tell you.”

  Jane:

  I woke to the overwhelming sound of singing birds. Bright light invaded my vision and the smell of cinnamon and sugar filled my nostrils. I blinked a few times, trying to acclimate myself to the strange surroundings. Silky sheets were tucked perfectly around me in shades of blue, with tiny pink flowers sewn here and there.

  The blankets fell off me as I sat up, my head suddenly whirling. I touched my hand to my temple and winced.

  “A little too much spring champagne?” Navia swept into the room and the happenings of the night fled back to me. All weekend we had hung out, and last night she’d finally managed to convince me to give in and have a drink with her, resulting in many, many follow up drinks.

  “Ugh… you can say that.”

  She had a glass goblet in her hand. “Here, drink this.” She thrust it toward me. “Did you enjoy the guest room?”

  I couldn’t answer her, words jumbling in my head. I took the goblet, warily peering into it. It was filled with what appeared to be water, but as I touched it to my lips, I found it was minty and cold.

  I thought of Max then, hurt slicing through my heart, adding to the throbbing pain in my head. I tilted the goblet back, hoping to drown the feeling. The minty liquid flooded my throat, the chill spreading throughout my body until it reached my head. Before I even dropped the goblet from my lips, my head felt better, as though I’d slept sound and pure all night.

  Navia snatched the goblet from my hand. “I made some French toast as well. Come, join me in the kitchen.” She pulled me from bed, a nightgown of silk falling around me.

  “What’s this?” I looked down at my foreign body.

  Navia giggled. “I couldn’t let you sleep in your frumpy clothes!” She handed me a matching robe that had been hanging on a hook.

  I took it, hoping it covered more skin—it didn’t.

  “You need a new wardrobe,” she added with wide eyes.

  “So I’ve been told.” I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror across the room. My hair was a giant knot on my head and mascara was smeared around my eyes, making me look like a raccoon that had broken into her house. “Uh… is there a restroom?”

  “Of course, silly!” She pointed to a door beside the armoire. “You should know!” She gently elbowed me. “You were a little sick last night,” she added in a whisper.

  I felt mortified. “Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry.”

  Navia fanned away my remark with her hand. “No worries!”

  I held myself in comparison to her. She looked as though she’d already gone to the salon for four hours, but in reality she’d just been cooking breakfast. I melted from the envy of it.

  “You’re so lucky.”

  Navia looked confused. “Me? Lucky? Why?”

  I snorted. “You’re naturally gorgeous, and look at me.” I motioned to my reflection.

  Navia put a hand on my shoulder. “I may be lucky in looks, but trust me, luck is subjective.”

  I wondered what she meant, but I could tell that was the end of her comment.

  Slipping into the bathroom, Navia went back to the kitchen. I splashed water on my face and swished a little in my mouth. I ran my fingers through my hair as best I could, but I knew no matter how hard I tried, I’d never compete with Navia’s effortless curls.

  I exited the bathroom and joined Navia in the kitchen where I took a stool at a white marble bar. The whole place was carved in marble, and from what I can remember, was set into the mountainside far above Winter Wood. A carving by the door read ‘Winter Retreat’, indicating the fact that there was likely a summer, fall and spring retreat as well—I could only wish for such a thing.

  “I’ve been thinking a lot about your predicament, my pet.” Navia delicately dipped a perfect piece of French bread into a batter that looked rich with cinnamon, eggs, and cream. “I may have a solution.”

  I lifted my brow. “Really?” This, I wanted to hear. The champagne had allowed words to fall freely from my mouth and Navia had been subjected to listening to me go on and on about Max. The more I remembered about what I’d told her, the more ashamed I began to feel.

  “This Max fella. He sounds like a handful.” She was nodding along with her words. “Angels are tricky.” She sighed.

  “They are?” I wondered if they had a reputation as prominent as Element Pixies.

  “Sure are.” She patted the toast with a spatula. “I loved one once. That bastard broke my heart,” she said matter-of-factly.

  I couldn’t help but laugh. The word ‘bastard’ was unnatural when formed by her lips. “You did? What happened?”

  Her whole body shifted as she flipped the French toast with as much expertise as a French chef. “He changed his mind, I suppose. Right out of the blue.”

  “Just like that? No warning?”

  She sharply shook her head. “None at all.”

  I shrugged apologetically. “Well, Max didn’t change his mind. He just didn’t divulge the whole truth to me. Like I said, he was engaged once.”

  She looked up at me, pausing her actions. “To whom, I wonder.”

  I shrugged. “He didn’t say—and I didn’t want to know.”

  She stared at me for a long moment before flipping the toast onto a plate and placing it in front of me. “I’d give you syrup, but I assure you it’s plenty sweet as it is.”

  “Thanks.” It looked amazing, and after a night of drinking champagne, I needed it. “So you’re sure you don’t know Max?”

  Navia threw another toast in the pan and it sizzled loudly. “No, can’t say that I do.”

  I shrugged. “Well, he hasn’t really been to Winter Wood for a handful of decades.”

  “Ah… see.” She was intently concentrating on the toast. “I moved here not that long ago. I definitely wouldn’t know him.”

  Despite her explanation, I was still surprised. Navia seemed to know everyone I’d mentioned, human or not, long dead or alive.

  “But, back to what you can do. Sounds like it’
s not a matter of you two not liking each other, but that you can’t…” she giggled, “be together.”

  I shook my head, enjoying her innocence toward the subject.

  Navia scraped at the corners of the toast. “I may know a way we can level the playing field, though. It might sound harsh, but I assure you it’s easy.” She flipped the toast, leaving me in suspense.

  “What’s that?”

  She hummed a small tune, plopping the toast on a second plate before joining me at the bar. She nimbly prepared herself a bite with a measured slice of butter and ate it. She chewed politely, at last swallowing so she could answer. “You need to become an angel,” she said plainly.

  I nearly dropped my fork. “Become an angel?”

  Navia took another small bite and swallowed. “Sure. It’s not that hard. You just have to die saving someone and give them your life in their place.” She made it sound like directions for cross stitching—as though even my grandmother would know it. “Dying is nothing new to you, but the catch is that you need a reason not to leave and go to the other side, and I believe we both know what that reason is.” She gave me a little nudge and a wink. “When you have the chance to walk across that bridge to the Ever After, simply don’t.”

  “What are my chances of succeeding? What are the dangers?” I wasn’t asking because I was considering it, but because I knew there had to be plenty of dangers, thus justifying the fact that I wasn’t going to do it.

  She shrugged. “Nothing, really.”

  I snorted. “Nothing, really? Then why are angels so rare?”

  Navia laughed. “Most people are selfish! How many people that you know of will willingly take the fall for someone else? People don’t just willingly hand over their lives.”