Knight Angels: Book of Revenge Page 20

  I swallowed down another animal instinct that was rising inside me—the need to run. Opening the door, I stepped out. Emily met me at the hood, locking her arm with mine as though to say, ‘you’re not getting out of this’.

  “It’s going to be fine, Wes. Everyone loves me.” Her naked lashes fluttered innocently.

  Emily’s skin against mine felt soothing. She was right, everyone did love her. Her powers of persuasion were impeccable, and where it’s probably her ability to read minds that assisted that talent, it worked, and that’s all that mattered.

  We walked together up the path and onto the porch, Emily’s paper bag of extra clothes swinging at her side. Just as I went to grasp the door knob, it flew right out of my hand. The door swung open, far faster than I knew Gladys could possibly move—but it wasn’t Gladys. We were face to face with an excited Lacy, her hair fluttering in the wind that had been created by the force of opening the door.

  “Hi!” She yelped, her body swimming in a pair of my basketball shorts and long T-shirt.

  Emily looked surprised at first, but quickly collected herself. “Hello.”

  “You must be Emily.” Lacy stepped forward until their noses practically met. Lacy’s eyes were narrow, seemingly inspecting Emily’s very soul. “Hmmmm.” She stepped away.

  Emily tilted her head. “Hmmmm, what?” she demanded.

  I felt my heart rate surge to life.

  Lacy slouched onto one hip. “Hmmmm, you’re pretty. That’s all.”

  Emily nodded slowly, a look that meant she wasn’t buying Lacy’s vague explanation. “Right, well… so are you.”

  I was trying to understand what was going on. I wasn’t so naïve to take it for face value. There was some sort of ‘fluffing of feathers’ that was happening somewhere I couldn’t see.

  After another moment of staring down Emily, Lacy turned to me. “I like her, I guess.” She shrugged. “Even if she isn’t one of us.” Lacy flashed Emily a look. This was going to be an impossible afternoon.

  Emily snorted. “Gee, thanks.”

  I tried to change the subject. “I thought I told you to stay in my room?”

  Lacy’s demeanor changed. She pouted. “I was going to, but it’s been days that I’ve been locked up in there. Do you know how boring that is?” She closed her eyes with a delighted look on her face. “I smelled something good from downstairs.” Her hands were squeezed into fists in front of her. “Human. Food. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had human food?” Her eyes opened wide.

  I lifted my brows. “No. I guess I didn’t consider it.” I was being sarcastic.

  Lacy frowned at me. “Anyway, I figured Gladys wouldn’t freak out too much, and she didn’t. Just a little scream, but she got over it once I explained myself. At first she actually thought I was you.” Lacy glared at Emily once more. “Her vision apparently isn’t very sharp. I don’t see the resemblance.”

  Emily rolled her eyes.

  “You both have red hair,” I offered. But in truth, there was a lot of resemblance. “I could see the mix up.”

  A disgusted snort passed Lacy’s lips. She didn’t need me making up reasons.

  Emily crossed her arms. “I thought you liked me,” she challenged.

  Lacy pressed her lips together, her pose mimicking Emily’s. “Like is not love, missy. If you were a shifter, then maybe you’d get an upgrade, but you’re just a mind-reader, a cheap trick.”

  A sharp breath passed Emily’s lips. She turned away from Lacy, looking as though she was about to storm off toward home.

  I conveyed to Lacy a look of anger and disappointment.

  Lacy silently tried to protest, but soon gave in. She reached out and grasped Emily’s arm, stopping her. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that. I just…”

  Emily furiously twisted back to face her.

  Lacy searched for the right words. “I just get used to things being a certain way—traditional, or at least what I know as traditional.” She released her grip on Emily’s arm. “I guess things are different here.”

  I gave Lacy one last glare. Her excuse was good, but not good enough.

  Lacy grumbled at me, and then sighed. “Please, don’t go.” She said it with as little enthusiasm as I could see possible.

  Emily’s eyes flashed with a competitive spark. “Fine.” Her stance screamed defensiveness, and I could see she was formulating some sort of plan—Emily always bit her lip when she was. “But I’m not letting you borrow my clothes.” She pulled the paper bag behind her back.

  I shut my eyes and drew in a long, deep breath, trying to remain sane.

  Lacy gasped dramatically. “What! Why?”

  Emily gasped right back. “Because you’re a brat!”

  Lacy set her jaw in determination, attempting but failing to look benign.

  Emily ignored it. “Be nice, and maybe I’ll lend you one thing that I brought.”

  I could practically hear Lacy’s teeth grind together. This wasn’t going well, but at least Emily hadn’t bolted. I heard Gladys then, her voice low, but demanding.

  “Would you all just calm down!” She came to the door, opening it wide until she could fit in the frame beside Lacy. “I may be old and slow, but my hearing ain’t.”

  Emily looked surprised by Gladys’s sudden authority.

  “You all sound like a bunch of badgers in a fight. Go on now, play nice.” She squeezed Lacy and Emily together, collecting them in a group hug. “That’s nice, yes?” Her voice was muffled as she spoke into Lacy’s chest. Leaning away, Gladys’s frail frame had to be supported by the handle of the door. Her beady gaze found mine. She was beaming. “Glad to have your sister home? Glad to be what you are?”

  I grinned despite the fact that I was angry that they’d never told me about my genes, or that Lacy was even alive to begin with. But, as Lacy claimed, perhaps they just didn’t know about Lacy’s status, or that I had made the transition. “I am, ma’am.”

  Gladys’s smile sank, her once kind eyes narrowed. “Then act like it.” She turned and stormed back into the house with as much ‘storm’ as an old lady could muster.

  I stood there, stunned by her sudden sauciness.

  Lacy and Emily both giggled discreetly, eyeing each other.

  “Whatever,” I huffed.

  Avery:

  “Greg?” I whispered as I reached the wood. I’d left Jane at home, her attitude having turned all sulky and doubtful since Monday—I hated it. Having a pet was becoming more work, all of a sudden. I was glad she would be gone soon. “Greg?” I called again, a little annoyed that he hadn’t immediately appeared. I heard a branch rub gently, a sound so minute, but not of nature.

  “What?”

  I twisted to meet Greg’s gaze as he peered out from behind a tree. He had been sitting behind it. He flicked a leaf on the ground until it crumbled.

  I rounded toward him.

  “I need you to get Emily. We need a sacrifice,” I barked.

  Greg didn’t bother to move. “No.” His voice sounded irritated. He was used to being the ringleader, not the henchman.

  I put my hand on my hip. “Excuse me?”

  He looked up. “No. I don’t want to... I can’t.”

  I shook my head, looking to the sky. “What do you mean you can’t? Do you love her or something? Don’t want to see her dead?”

  His eyes narrowed, and in that small gesture, I saw that he really did love her, though he wasn’t about to admit it. “No. that’s not it. It’s because of what happened a few weeks ago with some snake incident. She’s poisonous to me now. I can’t touch her,” he said simply.

  I grumbled. Why hadn’t I known that? I refused to let it stop me. “Find a way. I need you to threaten her life so that Jane can take her place. You know, be the hero and die doing it.”

  Greg suddenly looked more intrigued. “You mean, attempt to kill Emily, but then I’ll get to kill Jane instead?”

  I nodded.

  A sly smile snaked across his face. �
��Why didn’t you say that before? In that case, I’ll find a way to take Emily.”

  I nibbled my bottom lip. Not that taking Emily was really going to bother him much, I thought. “What makes killing Jane so enticing to you? What’s your beef with my pet?”

  “Your pet?” He lifted one brow mockingly.

  I growled at him.

  His mockery retreated. “Same reason it’s enticing for you—I want to hurt Max.” He pulled his feet under him, lifting himself off the ground. “I’ve wanted to kill Jane since I failed to years ago. I hate the fact that she makes him so happy.” His face was twisted with loathing, brushing the leaves off his pants. “And she’s annoying.”

  I laughed. “Wait, you’ve tried to kill Jane before? Why didn’t you tell me that?”

  He shrugged. “You didn’t ask. Besides, I figured it was common knowledge that I don’t like her. I don’t just hate from a distance. I typically like to do something about it.”

  I stared blankly. “I’d considered a lot of things as to your hatred toward her, but not that. I mean, I never knew you’d made the attempt to kill her. I knew you wanted to kill her, but I didn’t know you’d actually tried. I’m impressed.”

  He approached me, looking smug about the fact. Based on his pause, I could tell he was relishing it. “I had lots of reasons to hate that girl, long before Max, even. Her family was mixed-breed. The mother was human, her father was magickal, and not just that, but a member of the Priory. I killed her father, John. I hoped to kill the whole family, but when Max stepped in and stopped me—”

  “That was when he made her his guarded, isn’t it?” I interrupted. “When you killed her father, and then tried to kill her. I mean I knew he had saved her, but I didn’t realize it was a result of something you did. This just keeps getting better and better! What a small world!”

  “I know.” He was idly fiddling with his fingers. “That’s why I agreed to help you. It was servicing my own cause—my unfinished business of killing her, or at least that’s what I hoped your end game was.”

  “Well, that is my end game. Happy?”

  “Very.”

  I allowed my excitement to sink in. “So, then you have no problems and we’re on the same page.”

  “We are.”

  I smiled wide. “I want you to take Emily on Friday, after the Halloween party. I’ll get Jane sloppy on spring champagne. She’s gullible that way. Friday will be our night, the perfect night. I just love the way death sounds on Halloween. I’ve always wanted to try it. What better way to celebrate the day of the dead than with murder, or should I consider it sacrifice?”

  “Both,” Greg answered confidently, an annoying twang to his voice.

  “Go now.” I shooed him, growing tired of his face.

  He didn’t look very impressed by it. “As you wish.” His eyes rolled as he turned away from me.

  Wes:

  “Here,” I handed Lacy the costume Emily had handed me. They’d warmed up to each other, but not enough to yet transfer gifts hand to hand. I was still the mediator.

  “What’s this?”

  “A witch costume,” Emily answered for me, her head still buried in the wooden chest of costumes we’d found in the attic.

  “Witch?” Lacy’s nose crinkled. “So cliché. Don’t you have anything better?”

  Emily sat up, something pink and purple in her hand. “Of course I do, but I’m wearing it. Besides, a witch suits you perfectly.”

  Lacy grumbled and marched to the other side of the room, holding the witch costume up in front of her. “I don’t even want to go to this stupid thing.”

  “Then don’t,” I interjected, growing tired of her constant pessimism.

  Stella was perched on another trunk in the corner, her eyes closed, unconcerned by the drama that was unraveling before her—apparently she was used to it happening, and that’s what scared me.

  “Here, Wes, catch.” Emily tossed a wad of green fabric at me. I caught it just before it hit me in the face. “And what is this?”

  “Peter Pan.”

  Lacy turned back to us, giggling. “I guess maybe I don’t have the worst costume, then.”

  I unraveled the fabric, pulling at a bit of plum colored nylon that turned out to be the leggings. “Seriously?”

  Emily turned and smiled a smile that was full of recollection. “It was my father’s once. I was a lost child that year, and he was my Peter Pan.”

  I shut my eyes, seeing there was no way around this. Lacy was still giggling lightly, though her back was turned, her hands untangling a black wig.

  “What time does this thing start?” I was stretching the purple leggings, hoping they wouldn’t castrate me by the end of the night.

  “Eight.” Emily had a small grin on her face, the faerie wings in her hands unfolding as she straightened the wires. “Isn’t it funny? Here I am, about to wear faerie wings and they’re nothing like what real faeries are like. I should have feathers in my hair and tattoos across my skin.”

  “People would think you were a biker-bird,” I added.

  Emily’s energy only grew more excited. “I know! But that’s what the fairies in Winter Wood are like.”

  Emily couldn’t get enough of Winter Wood. We’d gone there every day after school with Jane and Navia for a snack at the café. I wasn’t too keen on it, but watching Jane’s new friend made it worth the trip. It’s not that I had a crush on her or anything, it’s just that, well, she was breathtakingly gorgeous. It was like staring at a real life swimsuit model, only better. Luckily, I kept these thoughts in the vault of my mental mansion, behind a lead door that was three feet thick. I couldn’t risk having Emily hear them, and I couldn’t stop thinking them if I tried. Pixies had that effect, I guess.

  “Emily!” Emily’s mother called from the bottom of the attic ladder. “You’re friend is here!”

  Emily’s face popped out of the chest once more. “Jake’s here,” she announced a second time, as though we hadn’t heard.

  “Clearly,” I murmured.

  Emily ignored me and went back to rummaging in the chest, pulling out a black, furry lump of fabric. My brows were pressed together with interest.

  Footsteps ascended the ladder, and Jake’s head popped through the hole in the floor. Since he’d revealed himself to us, I’d grown used to seeing the shiny eyed, clean cut version of Jake, but today it was all nerd, and he’d laid it on thick. A pair of suspenders held his pants above his waist, his glasses like thick picture frames around his dull, green eyes. “Hey, guys.” His braces made his voice wet and annoying.

  “Hi, Jake.” Emily didn’t seem to care whether he was the nerd or the suave vampire. To me it just meant she didn’t find him attractive like every other soul in Winter Wood seemed to—that was all that mattered. Because he was a non-threat, I could be friendly to him.

  “Here,” Emily tossed him the wad of fur.

  “What’s this?”

  “A gorilla.”

  An uncontrolled snort escaped my lips like a laugh. Peter Pan suddenly seemed like designer duds in comparison. Sucked to be him.

  Jake glared at me for that comment. “I’ll sweat to death in this,” he protested.

  Emily shrugged. “But I figured this way you wouldn’t have to wear the getup,” she motioned to the glasses on his face. “You can hide behind the mask instead.”

  Jake grumbled, but conceded, trying on the mask that covered his head in a layer of black fur. Lacy eyed him sideways, and then leaned away. I’d told her about what Jake was, and she wasn’t too excited by it. She’d told me about shifters who had been attacked by vampires in Washington, thinking they were animals but quickly discovering otherwise. By then, it was too late to save the shifter.

  Jake removed the mask and eyed Lacy in return. “Don’t worry, darlin`. I don’t like poultry, either.”

  Lacy frowned, her cheeks turning a bright red that was accentuated by her fiery hair. “Good,” she grumbled. “Imp,” she added under her bre
ath.

  “Have you ever met a real imp?” Jake shot back. “You’d reconsider your accusation if you did.”

  “Ass,” Lacy didn’t care what it meant.

  Jake shrugged. “That’s gettin` better, a mule.”

  “What about Jane and Navia?” I asked innocently.

  Emily looked up, a frown replacing her smile. “What about them?”

  “Are they coming?” I refused to look at her, afraid she’d find a way into my vault.

  Emily slammed the chest of costumes shut. “Yeah.”

  Her anger wasn’t directed at me, but rather the names themselves. I grew curious. Drawing closer as Jake and Lacy continued their banter, I whispered, “What’s wrong?”

  Emily was furiously detangling something in her hands, the wings she’d flattened now attached to her back by two loops of elastic around her arms. “Something about Navia bugs me. I don’t like what she’s doing to Jane.”

  “You mean all the makeup?”

  Emily’s eyes met mine. “Yeah, the makeup, the… I dunno.”

  I brushed my hand across her face, drawing her attention away from the tangle in her hands. I leaned in and gave her a peck on the lips. “Don’t worry so much. You’re starting to sound like Jane.”

  “Ewwww…” Lacy squealed from across the room. “I told you guys to stop doing that kissy stuff in front of me.”

  I looked toward her, seeing that Jake also appeared awkwardly disturbed by our display of affection.

  “In front of us,” Jake added.

  “Sorry.” A half smile lifted my cheek.

  Emily blushed with embarrassment, once again fumbling with the fabric and turning away. Jake and Lacy had their costumes just about on.

  “Help me?” Lacy turned her back to Jake, exposing the unzipped zipper of her muumuu-like black frock. I was amazed to see them working together.

  “And Max?” Emily whispered.

  I turned back to her. She had given up on the fabric.

  I shrugged. “I still haven’t seen him.”

  “I wish I knew what happened.” She pulled her hair back in a pony tail, fastening it with a sparkly clip.