He’d earned that…intimacy.
I blinked, as first Rebel touched one eyelid and then the other. Carefully, he pushed my glasses back on. At last, he pressed a kiss to my forehead, before collapsing onto me. “You’re a muppet.”
I smiled. “Yeah, and you’re a wallad.”
Rebel touched his forehead to mine. “I should’ve known how hard it’d be for you. It’s Christmas, but you don’t have your sister… You know that I don’t do—”
“Talking?”
“I say it all arseway but I understand. And before you eat my head off, I’ve lost family too. It doesn’t make me seek death, but life. Look, princess,” he glanced down, his lashes curling onto his cheek, “I’m a bad angel. I’ve fibbed to you about…everything. There are things that I can’t tell you, but if you come back with me — to my family — I’ll tell you what I’ve been hiding…”
I clutched Rebel, whilst my heart pounded.
This was it. The secret that Rebel hid behind his shuttered eyes. Where he went when he stole out of the witches’ house at night.
Whether I’d been right to trust and free him.
And if I hadn’t, I’d be forced to set him alight like a violet sparkler, no matter how loved he’d made me feel by removing my glasses…or how much the powers inside loved him already. Then this Christmas Eve night, Rebel would be just another pretty death.
13
When the House of Rose, Wolf, and Fox beckoned in a blaze of light in the freezing black — no way had my Christmas Eve vanishing gone unnoticed — I swung to Rebel.
My breath came in icy mists, puffing out like a fairy train down the driveway. My fingers swept the frosty stone of the sundial.
Crunch — I dug my heels into the gravel as I dragged Rebel to a stop.
Rebel glanced down at my fingers, which dug into his arm, with a nervous smile. “Time to pay the piper then?”
Family is the angel in eyeliner’s weakness. He’s a loyal little punk. He’ll tell you his secret…out here. But if you let that sweet ass of his inside, then the witches will smother the darling until—
Got it, J, shank the weakness.
Shank the punk. Is it not sinking in yet? If they’re not yours, then they’re dead.
I shuddered, closing my eyes.
“Feathers, you’re not looking so well.” Rebel stroked across the back of my elbow.
My eyes snapped open, and I wrenched away my arm. “I’ll look better, bro, when you trust me with the truth. Like where you go at night.”
Rebel clutched at his collar, as if for protection. “Do Ma and Da know…?”
“Focus.”
“What happened to your da?” He glanced carefully at me from underneath his eyelashes but he’d crossed his arms defiantly.
My stomach twisted. I’d never known my parents, but it’d been clear that they hadn’t wanted me. Rebel knew that. He was playing me.
I shrank from his cruelty, even as I seethed that he’d use my dad to distract me.
Who’s getting shanked here?
You don’t need your dad; you have me.
Why did J sound suddenly so insecure? I wished that I could hug him, so that he understood how much his love meant to me.
“I reckon that you know more about my dad than I do.” My hands shook, as I gripped the edge of the sundial, but I tilted my head. “You have one sentence to convince me not to burn you alive.’
Hell, of course, I didn’t mean it. Rebel’s eyes widened anyway. My head spun, as he paced in a tight circle around me and the sundial.
“My real da’s here on earth because I abandoned him.” Then he licked his lips. “Oh, and please don’t kill me.”
I snatched the sleeve of his leathers, holding him still. “You have an angel dad?”
“It’s…complicated. But I’ve been searching for him, even though the Deadmans would whip my arse for it, but that’s why—”
I shoved Rebel across the driveway, slamming him against the porch; the wicker effigies that swung by their necks trembled. The protection spells glowed, snaking crimson symbols in the shadows.
Rebel let out a startled yelp.
“I’m the mug who believed that you were here to save me. My own angel at last. Where’s my head been at, reckoning that you were family? Because all along, you’ve been on earth to find your true family. I never thought that I could feel sorry for the bastard spell casters.”
My vampiric and angelic sides crashed together in a dominating, enraged flood. Rebel had been searching for his family, whilst I’d never known mine. Why had I been taken in by his story of protecting me?
Mine, mine, mine…
I lowered my lips to Rebel’s, as I had Phoenix’s, whilst an ice-cold inferno spat and sparked from my toes to my mouth.
You can do this.
Why was J so furious? Why was he tempting me to hurt Rebel?
Remember the anger. The betrayal. I’m all you need.
Rebel struggled, and his heels cracked against the door. Then he went limp. “Hurt me,” he whispered, as if it was a prayer, “kiss me, burn me…”
The sizzling flames leapt, from my lips to his, and he gasped.
What the hell was I doing?
I staggered back from him. The enraged wave broke, and the waters bled away. I vibrated with shock.
Rebel’s gaze was dazed, before he swiped his knuckles across his seared lips.
“Don’t lie to me again.” I shook, terrified at what I’d almost done — what I’d craved to do. And into what J had tempted me. “If your dad is missing…then we can search for him, the same as Jade.” How little control I had still over the powers inside horrified me. “You’re not alone in that birdcage anymore. Fam is fam, remember?”
Rebel nodded, although his smile was fragile. “Brilliant! Although, could you call me Custodian once in a while? I’m already making a big enough balls of the job.”
I smiled. “OK, Custodian.”
“See? Now I’m all tingly.”
I rolled my eyes, but suddenly, Rebel stilled, scanning the woods along the drive.
A flicker of movement like bats…
“Inside.” Rebel paled. He dashed through the door, fiddling with the effigy on his trousers.
I stalked after him into the halo light of the hallway that was glaring after the gloom of the porch, reaching for my own effigy…except it wasn’t there.
I’d crushed it under my boot in Evie’s room. Hadn’t Ma warned me that without the effigy I’d be the hunted?
Rebel scowled at me. He slammed the door, resting his forehead against it: he’d guessed.
I banged my boot against the wall. “So, what have I done and how bad is it?” I asked, trying for casual.
Rebel’s gaze was hard. “You’ve brought down the vampires on us…on my family.”
“But I thought the effigies were to hide us from angels?”
“You want to discuss this now? Those creatures outside are here to kill us all.”
My breathing became ragged, but I forced myself to demand, “Why?”
“Hunters? Witches? Angels? And you’re….” Rebel caught himself, biting at his lip. “We’re their enemies in a war that’s been battled for centuries. There’s no talking or dealing or… To them, we’re the villains.”
In a flurry of silk dressing gowns, the Deadmans clattered down the staircase to paw Rebel, twirling him around to check for injuries and hissing over his burnt lips.
Da gave me a level look. “Do you enjoy the chase? I have Blood Familiars who were once like you. After they were…tamed…they enjoyed it considerably less.”
I huffed. “Sorry, bro, but your damaged psyche — freaky as it is — has to wait. There’s a gang of Fangs outside.”
Evie’s curls danced as she spun to me, but I was shocked to see the tears trapped in the corners of her eyes. “I have powers, but no one listens to my warnings; I’m the Cassandra of London. And you, my lovely, are the destroyer. You bring death to this hous
e.”
“Nobody will hurt you, I promise.” Rebel pulled his family around him. In silence, they held each other in a tight circle at the base of the staircase.
I ached, hugging my arms around myself. “What can I do?” I asked quietly. “Do we go out there, hunter style?”
“As if leading the enemy to our hidden door was not your intention,” Evie sneered, pulling away from the circle and breaking it. Rebel continued to hold onto Ma’s hand, however, and her fingers clasped around his. “Precious thing, how much will you cost us?”
Evie swayed in a trance, tracing invisible visions in the air with twitching fingers.
“You have two hunters now.” I shifted awkwardly. “I have your back.”
Da nodded, but it was Rebel’s brief smile that straightened my shoulders.
Fight mode.
“Too many of the gits to go out sword waving.” Rebel jerked his head towards the door. “This is different; they’re fanatics.”
“Then we build up the house’s protection.” Ma tugged Rebel after her towards Evie, before smoothing down Evie’s cheek. Evie blinked, as if rising from sleep. “You too,” she threw over her shoulder at me.
I jolted, surprised at the flush of warmth. Then I gave a crisp nod.
Together, we rushed into the kitchen, throwing down herbs from the beams at Ma’s orders, before dragging out a ceramic pestle and mortar from the ink-black cabinet.
Who knew it took a vampire siege to bring together a dysfunctional family of witches, angels and…whatever supernatural hybrid I was?
The chandelier warmed us against the night, whilst the flames in the inglenook fireplace sparked and stung my eyes with smoke.
Snip, snip, snip…
In the haze of the night-time kitchen, as Ma mixed the spell — and hell, I still struggled to accept magic was real — the world hazed.
Until Ma said, gazing intently at the herbs and never raising her head, “The House of Rose, Wolf, and Fox has stood since humans burned our kind on bonfires. It has life, the same as us, and it would die to protect us. Why are the nightmares pulling down our home?”
Rebel snatched the carving knife so quickly from the marble counter that it was nothing but a gleam of silver and then crimson as he slashed across his palm.
Drip, drip, drip…
Rebel’s blood bled into the protection spell mix like it was just another herb: the red milk that bound it together.
When the scent hit me, sugary and intoxicating, I remembered the tangy sweetness on my own tongue. I hungered to sink in my blunt teeth again…
“Angel blood,” Rebel shook off the last drops, before licking the gash clean like a cat, “it’s fierce powerful.” Rebel dropped the knife with a rueful smile. “Not like angel kisses.”
Slash — a flash of silver, scream of red, and my palm sacrificial bled over the potion. I avoided Rebel’s wide gaze: there was something too close to surprised pride there.
It was ironic that the one thing I’d pretended not to want was shining from Rebel just when we were about to die.
Because of me.
“Non-designer angel blood will still boost the spell, yeah?” I hunched my shoulders, shaking my hand and splattering scarlet across the floor.
“Bandage her wound,” Da said softly.
A kitchen towel was whipped off the range and tied carefully around my palm…by Evie. I lifted an eyebrow, but she only smirked. Then she edged to the bowl of blood and herbs, before plucking a petal from her rose necklace and grinding it into the mix.
Ma stroked Evie’s hair and untied her own wolf pendant. She submerged it into the paste, at the same time as Da ripped the cord around his neck and dashed in the already blood tipped fox brush. Then Ma stuck her hand into the potion and smacked the rose, wolf, and fox picture behind the range, branding it with a bloody hand print.
Again, and again, Ma marked the painting, until it was covered with fingers and palms, like crimson birds with their insides exploded out, and nothing was left of the rose, wolf, or fox.
The house had been extinguished.
Exhausted, Ma fell back, and Rebel caught her. At last, the family drew together, kissing each other gently on the lips.
Hell, what a time to screw… Except, then I realized that it wasn’t about passion, it was a goodbye.
I swallowed. The family’s display was too intimate. Why did it shank so deep that I had no one to kiss me? If Rebel wouldn’t kiss me, then I wished that at least I could kiss J.
Wiping the back of my hand across my eyes, I stumbled out of the kitchen, pushing into the first room on the wood-paneled hallway. I reached to switch on the light, blinking as a library with rows of faded books to the stone ceiling blossomed out of the dark. A calm corner of leather armchairs and chocolate sofa, hushed by swathes of gold curtains.
I could imagine Da, hands smartly behind his back, striding around his private retreat. A god in his own household.
I straightened my shoulders and set my jaw. Why did it matter if I was alone, when I was going to die tonight?
I kicked closed the door. At the bang, two narrow heads peeked up over the back of the sofa.
I grinned. “This is where you’ve been hiding?” Rebel had accused me of taking the Blood Familiars as slaves, but the foxes had wandered around the Estate as they’d like, since the day that I’d freed them. I’d seen barely more than a flash of red, except when they’d whined and begged for treats. They were both pretty and fierce, and I already loved them both. “Sitting on the furniture? Careful, you don’t want to be chained in a kennel, bitches.” I sighed, throwing myself down between the Blood Familiars’ furry bodies and allowing Blaze to lay his black paws possessively across my lap.
“Now hold on, you wouldn’t put us in a kennel? And we’re no bitches.” Spark scowled at me, aggrieved.
The fox’s lips hadn’t moved but a soft Scottish voice had lit up my mind, just like J’s did.
Spark’s expressive eyes were watching mine.
Auditory hallucinations…? But I wasn’t in a migraine. A spell? But I hadn’t drunk anything.
Then Spark yipped, as Blaze leapt across my knee in a tangle of rusty-red flanks and whippy tail. Blaze pinned his smaller brother underneath him with his forelegs. Spark grinned in submission, exposing his white throat.
“I told you not to speak to her, but you wouldn’t listen. So, now she can hear us, you numptie, and my teeth are taking a trip to your backside.” Blaze: bolder, less geeky than his brother, and furious…
I had the sudden instinct to teach one brother how to kick the bullies’ arses, and the other how to read poetry. Yet it thrilled me that I could hear and speak to them as well. They were prisoners here to the witches, just like me.
I snatched Blaze by the neck before he could bite down. “Not happening, bro. And if you don’t like bitches, Spark, how about I call you foxies instead?”
“Nay, I don’t think—”
“So, Blaze, how come I have fox radio playing in my head, awesome as it is to be able to hear you?”
Blaze settled back on his haunches with a snarl. “Telepathy. You wouldn’t be telling the witches? Because they’ll—”
“Hurt us, hurt us, hurt us.” Spark nuzzled against my hand, and I stroked his ears, until he calmed.
“Our secret,” I murmured, wriggling down on the sofa and kissing the back of Spark’s ear softly.
“Told you,” Spark simpered at his brother, “we can trust our new Keeper.”
I sat up, shoving away Spark’s head. “Rewind, foxies. Despite Rebel’s bondage themed dates, I’m not into kinky slave and mistress—”
“You saved us from Da,” Blaze’s amber eyes shone, “and you can’t know what that means. We didn’t choose to be Blood Familiars, but you made a choice to be our Keeper when you claimed us. We’ll be proud to always serve you. We’re yours.”
Yours…
The thrill of Blaze’s words wound deeper than the violet, to the river of black insi
de me; I could feel my vampiric side claiming the Blood Familiars.
“Yeah, you’re mine, and I promise to protect you.” I dug my fingers into the familiars’ fur.
When I tightened my hold, Spark whimpered. I quickly let go, stroking over the brothers’ backs in apology. “I always wanted a dog.”
I laughed at Blaze’s snarl but then I shivered.
I was being watched.
I pushed myself up, sidling to the arched windows. Twitching the curtains wider apart, I peered out and then gasped.
An army of vampires lined the drive in dark ranks, silent beneath the stripped trees. Their black eyes sparked like fallen stars. Too far from the house to be caught in its light, they were nothing but shadows.
Except for their leader.
The fanatic’s top boy smiled. He strolled closer towards the house with his hands in the pockets of his cargo trousers.
With a sweep of brunet hair, the handsome bastard lounged in a dreamy, sky-blue velvet coat, as if he was a movie star. When his gaze locked with mine — searching and malicious — his plump lips pouted into a kiss.
Then he waved.
I jumped at a sudden scrambling, thudding sound, like mutant rats in the attic. The vampires must’ve sneaked around the back of the house and were now climbing up, onto the roof.
But what were they waiting for?
As soon as the sun rose on Christmas day, they were in for a splitting headache. Rebel had taught me enough in my sessions: vampires could only suffer small doses of sunlight without the mother of all migraines. It explained my migraines in my feverish ‘second puberty’. Maybe Rebel’s blood was the reason that my symptoms had eased.
So, what was the vampires’ Big Plan? Had Ma’s protection spell worked?
Then I smelled the sickly stink of gasoline.
“Rebel!” I backed away from the window, cracking my shoulder against the wall of books. I winced as hard leather spines dug into my shoulders.
The Blood Familiars leapt off the sofa, winding around me with their tails aloft.
Rebel skidded into the room with the Deadmans close behind him. The Deadmans’ faces were drawn and their hair tangled; I’d forgotten that it was the middle of the night and they were up because of me about to be burned alive…and hadn’t I threatened to do that to Rebel?
Rebel Angels: The Complete Series Page 13