Wickedly They Come (The Wickedly Series Book 1)

by Cathrina Constantine

  “We’re here,” Thrill announced.

  Leafy limbs, painted in an array of russet, yellow, and red leaves, wagged in tepid breezes. A sighing wind rustled branches and a rainbow of colors floated to the ground as they straggled from the car. Startled by a dissonant squawk, the desolate area was coming to life. Raucous caws and the whirring of wings had them peering upward at a flock of crows. Minutes passed, and a peaceful quiet returned, then nervous giggles poured from the girls.

  The group trooped toward a crude pathway between immense trees. Jordan inhaled the loamy scent of crackling dead leaves. She lagged behind Cayden and lengthened her stride to keep pace. Stifling a niggling uneasiness, Jordan realized she was being led into a forest with people she hardly knew.

  They scampered to the surface of a large boulder and sat in a circle. Jordan squeezed between Cayden and Paisley, but detecting Paisley’s sneer, she changed her mind. Thrill must’ve noticed her wavering and sandwiched her between him and Rolly.

  “Rolly, what’s today’s poison?” Ronan inquired, rubbing her palms together.

  Rolly extracted a flat, clear bottle from his side pocket and set it on the boulder with a clink. “It’s all I could snag from my parents’ supplies. Not much—might give a buzz.”

  Hanging with this new group might get tricky.

  “Ever get a snoot full, Jordan? Or are you too high and mighty?” Paisley asked.

  “Hey, hey,” Thrill said in an amiable tone. “Let’s be nice, okay?” He put a protective arm over her shoulder, pulling her close.

  Paisley sulked.

  Rolly uncapped the bottle, glugged, and then passed it to Cayden. The bottle made its way to Thrill, who downed the contents, leaving a few drops at the bottom. He grinned and passed it to Jordan who thanked him with a smile. Wiping the mouth of the bottle with her sleeve, like germs mattered, she consumed the remaining drops. Ronan snatched the empty container from her hands and whipped it at the nearest tree, shattering glass.

  “To the log.” Paisley pointed her arm, eager to lead the way. Her overly generous boobs bounced as she leapt to the ground. Then tossing her shoulder-length, dyed platinum hair with ashy roots, she’d exposed a tattoo on the nape of her neck of a snake in the form of a circle biting its tail.

  Clambering over fallen trees and zigzagging through masses of brambly bushes that scraped at her jeans, Jordan trailed obediently.

  Sunbeams shafted through the verdant canopy, casting lacy patterns on their faces. Paisley slowed as they approached a clearing, where a broad, sturdy log created a natural bridge over a ravine. Walking to the ravine’s precipice, Jordan peered down. Broken tree trunks studded a treacherous decline. She thought the sheer drop resembled an archaic torture device. Soil shifted under her sneakers as rocks and pebbles tripped over the shelf. She watched their flight, and at last, they pinged off jagged boulders.

  “It’s time,” Ronan said in a singsong voice.

  Cayden slipped a blue cotton scarf from her jacket and twirled it in the air.

  “Wait.” Thrill sounded cautious. “I’ll show Jordan what to do.”

  “What’s going on?” Jordan scanned their faces.

  “It’s initiation time,” Paisley said, shooting her a corrosive look. “We’ve all done it.”

  “Done what?”

  “Crossed the log blindfolded,” Rolly answered. “It’s easy. Don’t freak,” he added, noting Jordan’s rounding eyes. “Watch Thrill, he’s the expert. Even did it backward once.”

  Ronan wrapped the scarf over Thrill’s eyes. Raising his hands like a blind man, he groped the air. “Okay, let’s go.”

  Cayden and Paisley obliged, guiding him to the natural bridge. They raised his left foot, placing it on top of the log’s crusty bark. Like a tightrope walker, Thrill balanced his weight. Making it look easy, he scuffed his feet to the opposite side without incident. When he reached the log’s decaying edge, he jumped to flat ground.

  He removed the blindfold and spun, lifting his arms. “Ta-dah!”

  They all clapped, except for Jordan, who felt a bit queasy.

  Thrill shuffled back to her side and challenged, “You’re up, Jordan.”

  Before she knew what was happening, the blindfold was tied tightly over her eyes, rendering her helpless. Any mulish effort to hold her ground would be useless. Her foot was squarely placed on the broad log. For a fraction of a second, she nearly tore away the cloth. However, she was here on a mission. She felt it was vitally important to be accepted into their clique. If she could kill demons, then crossing the log should be a piece of cake. Needless to say, her mom would probably blow a gasket when she found out.

  “Jordan, you’re all set to go,” Thrill said. “It’s easy. Just go slow and straight.”

  Jordan’s fear vanished with his encouragement, and a cold resolve set her in motion. Edging her foot forward and feeling the rough bark through her sneakers, she slid across, inch by inch. Behind her, she heard crunching twigs and a commotion of voices. She hesitated and wobbled a bit.

  Concentrate. Concentrate.

  “Stop her,” a recognizable voice commanded.

  “She’s fine,” Ronan said. “Doing great, Jor.”

  Hushed voices and a few gasps hung in the air as her foot slipped, but she quickly recovered. It was all about survival at that point. Her breathing labored as she carefully felt for her next step.

  “You’re almost there,” Thrill reassured. “One more step.”

  When she heard a faint crack of splintering wood, she flung off the blindfold and leapt to level ground. With a rush of relief, she copied Thrill, twirling and cheering, “Ta-dah!”

  Jordan winced at the strangers gawking at her, but everyone else applauded her accomplishment. Tearing her eyes from their stares, she stepped on the sturdy log and held out her arms for balance. A puff of wind whipped her hair over her face. She stopped in the middle of the log to peel away the blinding strands and made the mistake of looking down. The height was enough to paralyze her. She swayed.

  “Jordan! Jordan!” The cacophony of voices broke the spell, but she’d lost her balance and had begun to fall.

  A strong arm circled her waist, hoisting her over the last couple of steps. She was dropped unceremoniously to the ground. She faced Ronan on the verge of tears and humiliation.

  “Knew you’d do it.” Ronan gave her a high five. “Easy, right?” Then Ronan’s gaze strayed over her head. “Jordan, this is the new guy who started school last week.” She gestured with her hand. “I don’t remember your name?”

  “Mark.”

  His hard, low voice made Jordan’s stomach crunch. Revolving into his hard chest, Jordan receded a step to look into his face. She met his fierce eyes and whispered, “Markus?”

  “Do you two know each other?” Ronan eyed them suspiciously.

  Mortified by Markus’s angry glare and Ronan’s question, she performed a fast about-face and hemmed, “Um-mm…kind of…a little.”

  With her human angel apparent for all to see, she couldn’t think of a quick comeback.

  “Our families go way back,” Mark drawled. “We’ve helped each other out a few times.”

  Ronan sighed. “Oh, you’re related. Like cousins?”

  “Not exactly,” Mark told the bewildered group.

  Unsatisfied with their explanation, Ronan appeared miffed.

  Thrill congratulated Jordan, spinning her around, and then addressed the new guy. “Thrill McKenna, and this is Rolly.”

  Mark extended his wiry hand. “Hey, man, Mark Evans.” They shook hands, Rolly’s chubby fingers engulfing Markus’s hand.

  Jordan tried not to stare at her angel, who acted like a typical guy, as if he was one of us.

  A pretty blonde, well formed under her beige sweater, said to Jordan, “I’m Beth Schaffer, and this is Kristen and Jeff. I guess you know Mark.” Pausing for a second, Beth put her arm around Mark in a possessive manner. Her expressive eyes settled on Ronan. “I enlightened Mark about the in
itiation. The one we’d agreed to stop after the accident.”

  She informed Jordan, “Our friend Ellen Kirchmeyer fell, she nearly died. Nobody talks about it though. For some reason, Mark insisted on coming out here. It stands to reason you’d be here with the new girl, Ronan.” A flicker of resentment flashed between them.

  “Mind your own business, Beth,” Ronan retorted.

  “We agreed to stop this nonsense before someone gets killed,” Beth reiterated.

  “I’m not your friend anymore remember?

  Jordan, aware of Markus’s close proximity, felt his warm breath tickle her ear, launching a shiver up her spine. “That was a stupid—no, an idiotic thing to do.”

  “I needed to be accepted.”

  “They’d accept you either way, without nearly killing yourself.”

  “Shush, we’re being watched.”

  Ronan scowled conspicuously at them, and Jordan remembered the chatter in the car. Ronan had expected more than just friendship with Markus. She wondered if she should she call him Mark.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Ronan said, terse. “It’s too crowded.” She stormed past Beth, bumping her shoulder.

  Departing from Markus with her new acquaintances, Jordan felt his eyes boring into her back. Laughter and mingled voices leapt from tree to tree as they hiked out of the forest.

  The drive back to the village was quiet—each seemed lost in their own thoughts. She stared out the window, thinking of Markus until the pewter sky caught her eye. “Omigosh. What time is it? I never called Henry. He’ll be mad.”

  “It’s after 6:30,” Paisley said, checking her cell phone.

  “Thrill, could you drop me at home?”

  “Sure, Jordan.” He gave her a dimpled smile.

  “Why do you use your grandparents’ first names?” asked Paisley, her eyes poring over Jordan’s face as if she were an oddball.

  Jordan shrugged. “I’ve always called them Em and Henry.”

  When Thrill’s car rumbled into the driveway, her grandfather was sitting on the porch. His bushy brows gathered over irate eyes.

  “See you tomorrow.” She shut the car door and trudged to the porch.

  Pushing himself to a standing position, Henry gimped through the screen door with Jordan on his tail. “You missed dinner.”

  Once tall and virile, now his spine stooped, and Henry walked with a dawdling gait. He was mad. Under his sparse gray hair, his weathered face looked grim as he eased into the recliner.

  Jordan looked around. “Where’s Mom?”

  “She had to work late tonight, and it’s a good thing. She called twice, asking about you. We had to lie. Said you called and would be home shortly.” Henry snapped his newspaper to attention.

  “That’s all right,” Em said from her comfy chair. “No need to harass the girl, Henry.” She smiled, the smile not quite reaching her eyes. “There’s a plate in the fridge. Just warm it in the microwave. Your mom should be home any minute.”

  She apologized, glimpsing Henry, whose bushy brows looked like fuzzy caterpillars peeking over the top of the newspaper. He accepted her apology with a curt nod.

  She walked into the kitchen just as her mom bustled in. She heard a murmured debate in the living room then high heels clacked in her direction.

  She expected a reprimand. Instead, her mom simply stated, “We’re getting you a cell phone.”

  ANGELS WALK AMONG US,

  YET SO TOO DEMONS

  JORDAN WAS FINISHING homework when Seeley marched into the bedroom. Since Jordan’s inappropriate arrival, she’d been expecting a sermon on the undue stress she’d caused her grandparents. Instead, her mom inquired about her day, interested in what had brought her home late.

  Explaining why she’d missed dinner, she described her first chance to hang out with classmates. “This girl invited me. Her name’s Ronan, and I met a funny guy named Rolly. You’d like him. Another girl, Paisley,” Jordan’s head waggled, crinkling to her nose, “she’s okay, I guess. Cayden Rotella was with us, so at least I knew someone. I didn’t feel too much like the new kid.” Her voice then changed to optimistic. “And the boy driving, he’s kind of…cute.”

  “O–o–o, Jordan, I’ve never heard you say anyone was cute.”

  “Well, I think he is. His name is William, but everyone calls him Thrill.” She saw the flinch in her mom’s eyes. “Thrill said he used to be pretty wild when he was younger.”

  “You’re trying to tell me he’s not wild now, even though he’s still young?”

  “Mom–m–m,” she whined. Then she remembered the tire tracks he’d left on the school lawn and realized discretion must be enforced when conversing with her mom. She was treading into new territory. “I just met the guy. He seemed nice, and he actually said he was going to ask me to the Winter Ball, but I think he was kidding.”

  “What makes you say he was kidding?”

  “Ronan came up with the idea of us all going to the dance together, and then Thrill said he was thinking of asking the new girl, meaning me. I was soo embarrassed. Ronan didn’t go for it, though.”

  “Looks like this Ronan kind of rules the roost.”

  “Looks that way.”

  “So where’d you go with these…friends?”

  “We drove down past town, farther south to a neat place where the trees are at their peak. It was really pretty. We hiked around and mainly talked. It was nice.” Jordan sat on the bed in a lotus position, winding and unwinding a strand of hair on her finger like a yo-yo and hoping her mom couldn’t read her mind as she reflected over the afternoon’s events.

  “That’s it? Just went for a joyride with a bunch of strangers, walked in the woods, and came home?” Her mom eyed her with skepticism. “What did you find yourself, a bunch of nature lovers?”

  Jordan thought her mom wouldn’t understand typical teens, because she’d never been one. She’d totally freak about the liquor, and any mention of her tightrope act on the log would send her into a fit. Even now, she wrestled with keeping her vision a secret. She still felt certain her mom would pull her out of school, saying she wasn’t ready to handle it. She preferred not to lie, but in her mind, it wasn’t lying. She was just not revealing the whole truth. “They’re a little different, I guess.”

  “Is there something you’re not telling me?” Seeley asked, her tone cautious.

  “Nah, I had a good time today, but I’m tired.” She purposely left out Markus’s appearance. If she even hinted he’d created a human identity, her mom would more than guess she was hiding something. Jordan hoped Ezekiel would keep his mouth buttoned, at least until she could figure out what her new friends were into.

  “It’s late. We’ll talk more tomorrow.” Seeley kissed the crown of Jordan’s head.

  JORDAN WHACKED THE humming alarm and moaned. She loved autumn, but the dark mornings didn’t help get her out of bed. The house had a damp chill at that hour, and she poked through her closet for a shirt and jeans. She hurriedly dressed, and since her grandparents still slept, she tiptoed down the stairs.

  Already sipping coffee at the kitchen table, Seeley studied Jordan’s drowsy eyes. “You need to get more rest.” She held out a plate stacked with crusty bread. “Here grab a piece of toast before you go.”

  “Thanks. See you tonight.”

  Munching on toast, a heavy-eyed Jordan slipped through the back door into a dreary morning. The brisk cold felt like a spray of ice water, enough to rouse the senses. A mantling frost touched the region, and she scraped her sneakers over the slippery pavement.

  She was startled to see Markus striding toward her. He looked like a common teen in his zippered gray hoodie, jeans, and brand new sneakers. Nobody would suspect anything different.

  The first streak of morning sunlight set fire to his golden hair. Now that’s different. Markus noticed Jordan’s astonished gaze and ran a tousling hand through his hair, extinguishing the sparks.

  “Where’ve you been?” She sounded annoyed. “I was cal
ling for you half the night.”

  Markus’s mild glare did not go unnoticed. “Being human has its difficulties. I feel like your comic book character, Clark Kent. It’s not a good idea to disappear when people are in the same room. There is a need for secrecy, don’t you think?”

  “Markus, we need to talk,” she said as he whisked by. “I don’t understand what’s happening. Why are you human?”

  “I’m here to help you,” he informed her in a precise, formal tone. “You cannot overcome evil spirits on your own.”

  She had to double-time it to keep up with his long stride, and at the same time, she pondered his words. Elma High came into view, teeming with activity. Some guys, and a few girls, tossed a football on the frosty lawn. Cars sped past, maneuvering into the crowded parking lot. Jordan wanted answers, yet, seeing his stern brow, her questions would have to wait. He held the glass door to the school’s vestibule open for her.

  “Have a good day,” he said.

  “Thanks, you, too.” She watched him sauntering along the corridor as if he belonged there. Pensive over the uncanny presence of her guardian angel, she was bowled over by Paisley and Cayden.

  “Was that the new guy, Mark, you were just walking with?” asked an enthusiastic Cayden. Her skinny jeans and knit shirt only made her look extra lanky as she looked down at Jordan.

  “Yes, we met on the sidewalk.”

  Paisley wasn’t as enthusiastic. “Ronan wants us in the gym after school” she ordered, rather than asked. “Ronan said you’d be interested. Be there?”

  Treading to her locker, Jordan decided her new friends were interestingly strange. The log stunt had been unwise, dangerous, or as Markus had said—stupid. Nonetheless, the fear had been exhilarating—like taking down demons. In order to conquer her nightmares, she needed to be accepted into their group.

  After school, Jordan peered around the activity-filled gymnasium and caught sight of the girls on the top bleacher. They waved her up, and she mounted the bleachers two at a time, careful not to bungle her footing.