To the right set a square room with inviting windows. Almost everyone from my Spanish class sat in the chairs provided there. A few students paced, and some gathered in groups. I could hear them mumbling. “Is this gonna take long?” “I’m missing the game.” “We don’t know anything!” “Why do we have to be here?”
“Miss Allison Maney?” I heard my name called over the intercom.
“That’s you, kid.” Mom kissed me on the cheek and pushed me off in the direction of the front office as she ambled over to the vending machine in the room. As a Pepsi clunked to the bottom of the machine tray, an officer appeared in front of me. 6’1”, dirty-blond hair, grey-blue eyes, athletic build. His uniform appeared spotless and crisp, as if it had been ironed just minutes ago. Then I felt sorry for Samuel. This officer was the man he had to measure up to everyday, be scrutinized by. His competitive peers. No wonder Samuel spent hours perfecting his uniform.
“Allison Maney?” His thick brow cut like an arrow over his eye.
“Yes, sir.”
“Come with me.”
I followed behind the robust man, feeling as if I had failed a test or been sent to the principal’s office or something. Maybe he knew I somehow was involved. Why else would he call me before the others?
We stepped into his office, and he shut the door. “Please take a seat.” He motioned me to the seat in front of his desk as he sat behind it. The desk was filled with pictures of his family, a wife and two kids, and a pad of paper, a few pens, a desk calendar, and a folder which lay smack in the middle. After I sat, the officer lifted the folder and ruffled through the papers.
“What do you need me for, sir?” I swallowed hard, a dead giveaway for my nervousness to any semi-observant person.
“Don’t look so worried, Allison. I’m Officer Zachis, and the only reason you are here first is because you are Sergeant Maney’s sister. I didn’t want to waste your day by making you sit in the police station. I’ll have you in and out in a jiffy.”
“Oh.” I sighed, relieved, and sat back in the chair, uncrossing my legs.
“I just needed to know what you saw yesterday in Spanish class. Did you see anyone suspicious throwing the grenade? Anything strange happen before or after class that you remember?”
“Not really.” I shook my head while I stared at the floor. Then I remembered that avoiding eye contact made a person look guilty.
“Try to think. I know it must be difficult, but did you hear anyone say anything that might be helpful?”
I pretended to contemplate, rubbing my forehead as if I were deep in thought. “No, I’m sorry.”
“Do you think this could have anything to do with a tiff between a student and Mrs. Cuttle?”
“Mrs. Cuttle? No way! I mean, she does get on our nerves sometimes, but I don’t think anyone hates her enough to want her dead.”
“And any of the other students? Do you think someone might want one of them dead?”
My mind raced to Dameon and me and how this age-old war between angels and demons could be the catalyst for it all, and how me butting my nose into demon business could have been the trigger. “No.” I shook my head vehemently. “No, I don’t know of anyone.” Then I thought of Clark and what an ass he’d been to so many of his peers. “Well...”
“Well, what? Did you remember something?”
“I saw Clark pushing around some kids once. He seems to have a real temper. You might want to check him out.” After all, a few police investigators looking into Clark’s business might do him some good.
“Will do. Thanks, Allison.”
“It’s Ali.”
“Ali; I’m sorry.” The officer cleared his throat. “Well, if you remember anything else, please let us know.”
“I will.” I stood, feeling like a bird released from her cage.
The officer held the door open for me, and I stepped out and returned to the room where the other students were clustered in groups. Mom held the empty Pepsi can in her hand as she inhaled the last sip. She was leaning against the door, and she straightened as she saw me coming toward her.
Some of the students had been sequestered in other rooms with other investigators, surely being asked the same routine questions. I wondered if this inquiry would actually lead to anything substantial. If we got lucky, maybe the police would find Dameon’s fingerprints on the grenade fragments and send a few squad cars after him. But I’d surely never be so lucky.
“You ready to go, Ali?” Mom opened the door and threw her arm around my shoulder.
“Definitely.”
As Mom and I walked back to her car, I looked up and saw a white wing flutter behind one of the clouds in the sky. I smiled.
On Edge
“Do you think they’ll let us in soon? I rubbed my arms, trying to warm them. We were standing in line at the hottest dance club in town. People had raved about The Edge since its opening, and it quickly became a selective club. But Molly and Jennifer talked me into going, and since Jennifer’s dad had connections, we had a sure spot.
“Soon, Ali, soon.” Jennifer answered. I was wearing a red satin dress and had bunched its satin shawl up in my arms. She smoothed the fabric over my shoulders. “And keep yourself somewhat warm while we wait, for heaven’s sake.”
Molly’s cheeks flushed red as she stood in front of me. Her grin was a sure sign of approval for our impromptu excursion. “Can’t wait to get inside. Sounds like a blast!” The music thumped against the doors and beneath our feet. I almost wanted to start dancing then and there just to keep warm. I hadn’t wanted to bring a heavy coat I’d have to watch while we were in the club. I only needed my dress, my tiny purse strapped around my shoulder and a chance to get inside in the next five minutes before I froze.
“Next!” The door attendee pointed to us, and we pounced over him as he held his hand up in refusal to a couple standing behind us. Guess they didn’t make the list.
Inside, the club was a dark room clouded with artificial smoke and fog. Strobe lights flashed against the ceiling. A gold tiled dance floor sparkled under the strobes, and leather booths along the walls glowed softly, lighted by the chandeliers that hung over them. Pop music, rap, and hip hop permeated The Edge. Corners in the room were cluttered with spectators, and the dance floor was filled with those brave enough to show off their latest moves.
“Come on!” Molly grabbed my arm and pulled me toward an empty booth along the far wall, with Jen tagging closely behind.
“Let’s order a few cocktails. Virgins of course.” Jennifer shuffled through the black and gold checkered menu.
“Virgins! I’ve got us IDs.” Molly stuffed her hand into the fake Louis Vuitton bag that hung over her shoulder and handed us each our very own driver’s license, showing us to be twenty one years of age.
“Mol!” Jennifer’s mouth dropped open.
“As if you didn’t think it yourself!” Mol defended her actions. “So, take them.” She shoved the card into Jen’s hands, and I reached for mine.
“Well, I guess I’ll be having a Mojito!” I laughed.
“I’m dying to try the Piña Colada!” Mol joined in, and Jen took a second to warm up to the idea before giving in as I teased her with the gorgeous menu items. As the menu oscillated in front of her and the colorful images of drinks danced in front of her eyes, she finally answered.
“Alright, I guess I’ll have...the White Russian.” When our waitress arrived at our table, Jennifer also ordered a side of Curly Fries and Mozzarella sticks for us all to share. “Can’t drink on an empty stomach.”
The waitress set down three glasses of water and then went to the bar to fill our order.
“So do we dance?” Jen asked, as if we needed encouraging. Mol rolled her eyes and jumped up, crawling over me to get to the floor, her red jumper suit rumpling.
“Let’s go!” Mol shouted over the music of Lady Gaga’s latest release.
I bounced out of my seat and grabbed Mol’s hand while Jennifer played catch-up f
ive seconds later. On the dance floor we forgot everything that happened at Millennium High. Tommy Bachelor vanished. My near death experience in Spanish class vaporized. Dameon who? I even came close to forgetting Kian.
With two drinks down and music vibrating inside my soul, I couldn’t imagine a better high. Nothing felt so good.
Molly moved like she’d been there a hundred times before, while Jennifer swayed comfortably side to side until she felt brave enough to try something new. Hitting my butt against Molly’s, we both giggled and swirled. A Latino man darted between me and Molly to get to Jennifer. Something about her wide hips attracted him.
When Shakira’s music blared over the speakers, the Latino gripped Jennifer’s shoulders and pulled her into his guiding arms. She stayed attached like glue to paper for most of the dance, until the sexy tanned Latino spun her away from him, still keeping a sure hold on her hand, and then ripped her back into his chest. Her feet shuffled quickly over the floor as she hit him hard. With a grateful smile he let her go, and she blushed, not sure whether to be outraged or pleased.
With Jennifer finally letting loose — and all it took was a man — Molly and I lost ourselves in the music and ordered another round of drinks. Making it back to our red booth, Molly slid in next to the wall as I downed another Mojito before I even sat down. Jennifer sat across from Molly and watched the man who took her breath away from a distance. Evidently, he enjoyed dancing with a variety of woman that night, but after an hour, he finally made his way back to our table and set his stone-black eyes on Jen.
They must have enjoyed each other’s company quite a lot, because after he made his way to our table, Jennifer invited him to sit, and they locked on each other’s gaze for some time...as if Mol and I had just disappeared from existence.
About the same time, my stomach began to churn, and I felt like I might just hurl. As I raced to the bathroom, I could hear Molly chuckling at my misfortune. But I didn’t have time to argue with her at the table; I had to make it into one of the stalls.
My fingers gripped the toilet seat as my head felt excruciating and dizzy. My eyes could only see the yellowish water below me, and the bathroom reeked of stale, disposable air.
After throwing up once and watching the chunks swirl around and around down the toilet bowl, I closed the lid and sat down. The stall remained locked and the bathroom didn’t grow quiet until after two young ladies giggling arm in arm headed out the exit door. Suddenly, I sat in the bathroom alone. Eerie, quiet and alone.
With my knees bent and my head hanging, supported by my cupped hands, I suddenly smelled something different — silky, musty — and then a dark shadow darkened the floor around me. I felt the presence of darkness like one feels the sun on skin. Hairs prickled as I raised my head and looked upward.
Black, ridged wings hovered over me, and I saw my life flash before my eyes. Up close, I could see the curious wings better now; more like the wings of a bat, leathery, not at all fluffy and soft like Kian’s wings. Black, deep set eyes stabbed into my own as I took in a deep breath. About to scream, I opened my mouth. But Dameon fell on top of me and knocked the wind out of me.
Rolling back and forth on the bathroom floor, the two of us struggled. I remained underneath this monstrosity, this set of ominous dark wings that at times felt like hell itself, and Dameon, this demon, determined to finally kill me and regain his lost Essence Power.
Like a ship on a stormy sea, I lost balance and spun out of control, but Dameon’s hold tightened around my arms, his weight so heavy that I could not pick myself off the floor of the stall. His large wing hit the door and it flung open. I hoped someone would walk into the bathroom and scare Dameon away; perhaps Molly in search of me? Intrusion might be my only hope. I could not push the demon off of me. He simply had too much strength.
Tears began to slip out of my eyes, though I did not want my last moments to be spent in fear or regret. I fought to keep the tears at bay and hardened my expression. If I would die today, I would die bravely. Gritting my teeth, I bit Dameon’s arm and then his hand.
“You bitch!” Dameon cried. Perhaps I had hurt him a little. He slapped my head with his other hand.
I couldn’t be too sure what happened then. I felt my forehead hit the tiled floor, and I saw my own blood, crimson blood, spill into the creases and grooves. I heard a window smash, and, as I lost consciousness, I felt Dameon’s weight lift off of me.
I heard a rustling sound all around me, but I didn’t see any white wings. I saw a hard, athletic body...more like a man. This mystery man pounced on top of Dameon like Hercules. I didn’t want to question it, but I wondered if what — if who — I saw had more to do with the blood slowly draining from my forehead and less to do with a real event. But I didn’t feel Dameon on top of me anymore. Maybe I really had fallen unconscious. Perhaps Dameon had already taken my limp body out of The Edge through the window I had heard smash earlier, and now he had thrown me into the nearby river. Could I be drowning?
As my lids drooped and I hung in a state somewhere between heaven and Earth, I saw the oversized man lunge toward a set of black wings. Mostly, I could only see the large leathery bat-like wings standing in front of me, but I saw the man out of the corner of my eye. When the man hit Dameon again, the demon fell over as if this man somehow had strength the dark angel did not.
Crawling forward, I dug my nails into the tiled floor. I wanted to pull my body out of the stall. If this was real, if this unidentified man didn’t defeat Dameon, I had to be ready to bolt. Each motion of my hand felt as if I were moving a ton of bricks. I couldn’t be sure how far I pulled myself. As I heard the two males collide and fall against the sinks, I must have finally managed to make it to the bathroom door. I threw my hand over the knob and pulled myself up slowly, falling back down only once. With the knob helping to keep me balanced, I tried to open the door. Jammed. Blood dripped from my forehead to my hand on the knob as my eyes searched the latch. Locked. That bastard Dameon must have snuck in and locked the door while I sat on my knees puking in the stall.
Unlocking the latch, I pushed the door open with the full weight of my body. I had little strength left in my hands and arms, and my legs were questionable. I stumbled outside the bathroom, and my hands fumbled over the banister and along the wall to keep me upright.
When I made it to the entryway, I could see our table straight ahead against the far wall. If I could just make it to the table, I might have a fighting chance of getting out of here alive...that is if I truly was still here and not unconscious somewhere dreaming all of this.
Like a drunk, I stumbled to my table with a few dancers pushing me along on my journey. The dark room kept my wounds hidden. Besides who would care in The Edge? Drunk and dancing. I probably seemed out of it, reeking of alcohol. But when I arrived at the booth where Molly sat, she immediately saw that something was seriously wrong.
“Ali! Good God, what happened?”
I held my forehead with my hand. “I was attacked...”
“Where?”
“In the bathroom. I just want to get out of here.” I exploded into a fountain of tears and held my reddening face in my hands. Part of me wanted to stay strong, but I just could not be strong anymore. I had almost died, three times. Dameon came so close to killing me, even closer than the first time, that I worried about what would happen next time. Would he finally accomplish his goal?
“What’s going on?” Jennifer bounced up behind us with the sexy Latino at her side.
“We’re getting out of here.” Mol looked angry and stomped her foot.
“But we just got here; it’s finally getting fun.” Jen protested.
“Just come on!” Molly held my arm and walked with me as she snatched Jen’s forearm with the other hand and pulled her along angrily. I stayed close to Mol, my head near her shoulder, my feet marching along beside hers. She moved slowly for my benefit, but I could see that she was extremely upset. I didn’t have to go into details with her. The mere fact tha
t someone hurt me, hurt any of her friends, would send a shiver of rage down her spine.
When we reached the exit door, the doorman looked us up and down. “Going already?”
“Yeah, look at her face!” Mol reacted furiously. “Someone inside hit her!”
“I’m so sorry...I’ll send security in immediately.”
“Yeah, you do that...but we’re not coming back.” Mol retorted shoving both Jen and me, propelling us all forward.
As we plodded hand in hand to Jennifer’s sedan I wondered where Kian had been all this time. My protector hadn’t shown up. Instead, a stranger came to my rescue. Instead, my best friend Molly had saved me from sure detriment if I couldn’t find my way out of that club!
Sliding into the backseat of the car and eyeing my wounds in the rearview mirror lit from the dome light, I saw that the gash in my forehead looked deep, and the black and blue marks that would mark my body tomorrow would send Mom and Samuel into a hissy. I decided to keep my wounds a secret, but whenever I next saw Kian, I would have to give him a piece of my mind.
When we pulled up into my driveway, I needed help from Molly to get out of the car. She helped me to the door, and then I waved goodbye to both of my friends as I watched the sedan drive away from the house. I had to sneak around the banister and quickly up the steps to avoid Mom seeing me. Samuel would be out late; he usually stayed at the police station or out with his colleagues on Saturdays.
“Is that you?” Mom called up to me from the rocking chair in the living room.
“Yeah, Mom. It’s me.” My foot stopped momentarily as I spoke. I kept my back to her and my eyes on the top step.
“Home early.”
“Wasn’t as much fun as we thought. Going to bed.”
“Just glad you’re home, kiddo.”
I scrambled upstairs and headed straight to the bathroom. I had to clean up. I stayed in the shower for a long thirty minutes, raking my fingers through my blood-caked hair under extra warm water. As I checked my forehead wounds, I felt a deep gouge. Rubbing ointment over the abrasions on my head, elbows, wrists and chest, I then bandaged up a few scrapes on my knees. Brawling with a demon had its consequences.
She Speaks to Angels: YA Angel Thriller (AngelFire Chronicles Bk #1) Page 17