Angel Dares

by Joss Stirling

  Jay smirked. ‘Good luck with that. You don’t have a contract. You’ve been singing with us because I asked you. You were never really one of Seventh Edition.’

  First I had heard of it. Was he forgetting all those other times when he’d asked me to do stuff ‘for the sake of the band’?

  ‘That’s not fair!’ protested Matt. The other band members looked embarrassed but no one else was brave enough to speak up in my defence.

  Jay rounded on the drummer. ‘Oh I see: she’s been giving it up for you, has she, Matt? That’s why you’re defending her?’

  Matt snarled. ‘That’s disgusting and not fair to either of us. Some of us can have a relationship with a girl more evolved than that. She’s a mate.’

  Jay crossed his arms. ‘Fine: feel free to follow her out of the door. Drummers aren’t so hard to find.’

  No, no, my lovely evening was all going wrong! I couldn’t ruin this chance for Matt. I’d known Jay would probably kick me out one day; my friend deserved to be with the band when it made its break, even if he had to share the limelight with a wart on a rat’s bum like Fielding. I squeezed Matt’s shoulder and pressed him back in his chair as he was about to storm out with me. ‘No, stay,’ I said in a low voice. I then turned to direct a scornful look at Jay. ‘You’d be stupid to get rid of Matt: he’s the only one who’s stood by you all these years. Shame you have no loyalty to match. Good luck finding yourself another violinist. You’ll have to change the vocals too but you know that: no price feels too high at the moment, does it, to get even with me?’

  Jay’s eyes twinkled maliciously. ‘I’ll find someone to take your place, no problem.’

  ‘I wouldn’t be so sure.’ Nothing left here for me now, I grabbed my handbag from the floor. ‘Enjoy Rockport, Eighth Edition.’

  Several months later, I awoke to a Saturday morning in May with a blank weekend ahead of me. Oh how I missed performing! Going to sixth form at my school, doing a bit of waitressing to make some money, hanging out with my friends: all seemed very tame after the excitement of almost making it. Now I knew how it felt to be one of the guys on those talent shows kicked off before they became a familiar face—or Pete Best, the drummer booted out of the Beatles before they became famous.

  OK, maybe I’m exaggerating but you know what I mean.

  The only people who were happy at my falling out with Jay were my parents. Mum and Dad made coming over average their mission in life, compensation for having to hide the secret of being powerful savants. You wouldn’t expect it if you met them but Mum can manipulate air and Dad has an awesome telekinetic gift. They are also each other’s soulfinder. With that combo, you’d think they’d both be out fighting crime or something flashy but they have the character profile of tortoises. Sure, they love each other but frankly it is such a comfortable affection that they have settled into being plain old Mr and Mrs Campbell of Putney and are gloriously happy in that rut.

  They must wonder what trickster god was in command of fate when they had me for their only child.

  ‘So, love, what are your plans for the weekend?’ Mum asked me as we ate breakfast together. ‘Revision I hope?’

  I was in the middle of my exams so of course it was revision. ‘I’ll study my music. That’s on Monday.’

  Her pretty pale blue eyes smiled contentedly at me from under the fringe of her blonde bob: her chick was in the nest so she was happy. I think if I announced that I never wanted to leave home she would be exultant. She was fearful of anything that lay outside her front door, which was funny considering how she could blow any bad guy to kingdom come with her power.

  Dad came in wearing his blue towelling robe and slippers that had begun to go at the toe, but heaven forbid that you suggest he replace them. His light brown hair stuck up in tufts. In a habit of long standing, my mum sent a little breeze to smooth it down. ‘Morning, Angel! How’s my little girl today?’ His robe gaped open as he kissed me, revealing the UK dates from an old AC/DC tour on his T-shirt.

  I got up and stacked my bowl in the dishwasher. ‘Fine, thanks.’ Except that I wanted to howl with boredom. Don’t get me wrong: I love my parents to pieces but they are just so calm, sitting side by side like two cows chewing the cud; in bovine terms, their daughter was more bull in a china shop.

  Dad took my place and called muesli into his bowl with a flick of a finger, grains arching through the air in a cool cereal-bow.

  The phone rang. I grabbed it from the stand. ‘Campbell home for retired rockers, how may I help you?’

  ‘Angel.’ It was Misty. ‘Why aren’t you answering my texts?’

  I lowered my voice to a dramatic whisper. ‘Because I am on a secret mission behind enemy lines and can’t risk exposing my cover.’

  Misty gurgled with laughter. ‘Yeah, right. Or maybe you forgot to put your phone on charge?’

  ‘That might be a possibility.’ I am notorious for forgetting stuff like that. I mean to do it then get distracted by a thought or a musical phrase and off I go.

  ‘Look, I know you must be revising, but can you come out this evening?’

  I did my happy dance. ‘All work and no play makes Jill a dull girl,’ I said in my best pious tone.

  ‘You—dull? Never.’

  ‘Where’re we going?’

  ‘I meant: can you come over to mine?’

  ‘Oh.’ I love the Devon family but it wasn’t quite what I had in mind. I was thinking more club and loud music.

  ‘It’s just that Will Benedict’s in the UK and wants to talk to you.’

  ‘Oh!’ That was more like it. Two of Misty’s aunts had become linked by soulfinder bonds to the Benedict family from Colorado, seven amazing savant brothers. I loved all of them with hopeless devotion and rued the day that their parents, Karla and Saul, had stopped having sons before they had one my age that I could nab as my soulfinder. Will was the middle one of the tribe: a square-shouldered guy in his mid-twenties, who in the UK would have been up for a rugby squad selection thanks to his rugged frame and defensive instincts. He was from the wrong country for sport. His hunkiness would be wasted on American football as all that muscle would have to be hidden by padding and helmet. ‘He wants to see me?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Me especially?’

  ‘Yes.’

  I gave a squeak of pleasure.

  ‘He’s got something to ask you—a favour.’

  ‘Intriguing.’

  ‘That’s what I said but he was too far away for me to make him tell me the truth. I’ve found Skype defeats my power. He was being very mysterious.’

  ‘Then I can’t wait to find out. What time do you want me?’

  ‘Around seven. Come for supper. I’ll ask Summer too.’

  ‘Lovely-bubbly. See you then.’

  I put the phone down. ‘Is it OK if I go over to Misty’s tonight?’

  ‘That’s fine, dear,’ said Mum placidly.

  ‘I’ll give you a lift,’ offered Dad.

  ‘You two are the best.’ I kissed Dad’s cheek and wafted out to get dressed, telling myself off for my ungenerous thoughts about my parents earlier. I was so lucky to have them. Three fireballs like me in the house and the place truly would explode.

  One of the best things about being a savant is the way our families interlink. Will Benedict was no blood relative to Misty and the rest of the Devons but because two of his brothers were soulfinders to Mrs Devon’s sisters, he was naturally considered one of the clan and expected to stay with them whenever he was in the UK. And because Summer and I were friends with Misty, we were then added on to the chain so I could claim a kind of sisterly relationship with the Benedicts. Look round the savant world and you’ll see similar chains stretching from family to family, so in a way we are all one big extended tribe. Add the fact that we can all talk to each other telepathically, then you can see how close bonds might grow.

  When Misty showed me in, Will was sitting on the back terrace with Alex, enjoying a beer in the late sunshine.
Hand on heart, as much as I love my country, I have to admit that England is pretty dud when it comes to climate; but this was one of the few days in the year when we managed perfection: garden ablaze with flowers, light mellow and tinged with pink, spot-on temperature for sitting out.

  Will put down his beer and got up when he saw me. ‘Long time no see. How’s my favourite hellraiser?’

  I looked round, pretending to seek another person behind me. ‘She isn’t here so I’m sorry, William, but you’ll have to make do with me.’

  He chuckled at the William. No one else called him that, not even his mother when she was cross. ‘Come here.’ He gave me a hug, lifting me off my toes. ‘How’ve you been, Angel Clare Dora Campbell?’

  I wrinkled my nose against his T-shirt. I hate my full name. When Victor Benedict, Will’s older brother, pointed out that my initials were AC/DC, none of his brothers let me forget. I can’t imagine what my mum had been thinking, agreeing to that. ‘I’ve been fine, thanks.’

  He set me down so I could exchange a hug with Alex.

  ‘Howzit, bru?’ I asked him in my best South African accent.

  He nodded with approval and bumped knuckles with me. ‘You’re learning.’

  Misty came out carrying a rattling tray of drinks. She tripped over the doormat but Alex saved the glasses with a well-timed dive. He had quickly learned to anticipate her chaos-creating moments.

  ‘Thanks, Alex.’ She juggled the tray to the table and sat down next to him with a sigh. ‘Mission accomplished. Help yourself.’

  I picked up a can of lemonade, not bothering to use a tumbler. ‘Is Summer coming?’

  ‘She couldn’t get away this evening. Her mum’s having one of her episodes.’ Gloomily, Misty rubbed the condensation off the side of her glass. Summer was very tight-lipped about her home situation: she didn’t even invite us—her best friends—to visit her there; but we had guessed enough to know that her mother was not well, suffering from some kind of mental illness that placed heavy demands on Summer as the only daughter. When we asked if we could help, Summer always refused so we were left with offering silent, loving support.

  A thought came to me. ‘Will, I know you have something to ask me but I was wondering: could you first just check that Summer’s OK? You know, no threats against her?’ Will’s power is to sense danger. He is also skilled at protective tactics. Naturally that had led him into starting a career when he left college offering personal protection to people and places associated with us savants. He was already making quite a name for himself.

  Will arched a brow in question, brown eyes reflecting his concern. ‘You’re worried about her? What’s the story there?’

  ‘Not sure—Summer keeps her secrets—but would you mind?’

  ‘No problem.’ He uncrossed his legs and closed his eyes, fingers pressed against both temples. He leaned forward, a little like someone in the attitude of prayer, giving me a rare glimpse of the top of his head, which was a swirl of wavy thick brown hair. After a moment, he opened his eyes. ‘She’s OK, Angel. I get the sense of a long-term problem—not exactly a threat or a danger but something volatile—yet nothing is setting off alarms tonight.’

  Feeling a lot more relaxed, I grabbed a handful of crisps. ‘Thank you. Sorry for abusing your professional skills.’

  He winked. ‘That’s only fair as I want to make use of yours.’

  ‘But I don’t have a profession—unless you count waitressing.’ I tapped my foot against Misty’s. ‘I make a better one than our hostess-with-the-mostest.’

  Misty nodded solemnly. ‘That’s true.’

  ‘Misty makes a gorgeous waitress, trust me,’ added Alex, kissing her forehead. From the intent look between them I could tell they were exchanging little messages about the night they had discovered they were soulfinders. Misty had been ineptly serving drinks then too, but who could blame her as she had more important things on her mind?

  Will cleared his throat. Stroking Misty’s knee, Alex sat back with a twinkling smile. Misty was looking a little flushed.

  ‘I meant your music, Angel,’ Will said, returning us to his request.

  ‘Oh.’ I exchanged a glance with Misty, dipping quickly into telepathy. Did you tell him I was booted out of the band?

  No. I had no clue what he was thinking.

  ‘You see, Angel, you are the only person I know who’s involved in that scene over here. Zed has links back in New York but I can’t wait that long for the group to go there.’

  I rubbed my cheek against the can, wondering if I’d missed something. ‘What group?’

  Will opened his mouth then closed it again.

  ‘You’re not making a lot of sense, bru,’ said Alex. ‘Why not back up and start again?’

  Will grinned and took a swig of his beer. ‘OK, sorry. It’s just that I’m nervous.’

  ‘You!’ I laughed. Will was the most unflappable person I knew. ‘How can that be?’

  ‘My soulfinder.’

  ‘Oooh!’ I jumped up and did another of my happy dances, scattering crisps in my wake. ‘What’s she like? Where’s she from?’ I plonked myself on his knee and kissed his cheek in pure delight for him. ‘Can I meet her? Does she have a gorgeous younger brother?’ I waggled my brows at him and then bounced up to return to my seat.

  Will counted off his replies on his fingers. ‘I don’t know yet. Possibly Amsterdam. I hope so. No idea.’

  Deflated by the lack of detail, I sank back on the cushions. ‘Oh. You don’t know very much about her, do you?’

  Misty kicked me. ‘Angel, you’re jumping the gun again.’

  ‘OK, I’ll behave. Will, back up and tell me all about her.’

  Will and Alex exchanged an amused look.

  ‘Scout’s honour.’ I held up three fingers in a pledge sign.

  Will grinned. ‘I can’t believe they ever let you in the scouts—those poor guys wouldn’t know what hit them. OK, I’ll start with Crystal.’

  ‘Great.’ I hugged my knees to my chest, settling down for the story. ‘Misty’s soulseeking aunt has identified your soulfinder for you.’ Crystal was blessed with the gift of sensing where our other halves could be found.

  ‘Not quite. She’s known for a while that mine is based in Amsterdam but my soulfinder spends most of her time travelling. No sooner do I make plans to go hunt for her than the direction changes. It’s been driving us crazy until Yves—’

  ‘The gorgeous geek,’ I supplied. The second youngest Benedict brother was a knockout combination of brains, kindness and good looks. Sadly he was also too old for me and had already been snapped up by my mate, Phoenix.

  ‘Suggested,’ continued Will with a wry smile, ‘that he write a little programme cross-referencing her movements with international events. We had a theory she might be an aid worker or a government representative but that was wrong. The closest match proved to be … ’ He paused to take a swig.

  ‘Yes?’ I asked breathlessly.

  ‘Proved. To. Be.’

  ‘Yes!’

  Alex made a drum roll. They were winding me up on purpose, the pesky rats.

  ‘Proved to be the tour dates of Gifted.’

  I shot from my seat like a rocket. ‘Your girl’s in the band!’ I landed with a thump. ‘But—wait a moment—they’re all guys. Not that there’s anything wrong with that if you swing that way but … ’

  Will’s smile broadened. ‘We think she’s on the support staff: tour manager, technician or promoter, not a performer.’

  ‘Oh. That’s good too. Have you got a name or a face?’

  ‘The Savant Net doesn’t have any candidates on our books that fit the profile but, as you know, not everyone is connected to the Net. There are quite a few women of the right age that might be her as the entourage to the band is large: make-up, hair, wardrobe as well as the managerial staff.’ He leaned forward. ‘What I need is a member of a band with backstage access at Rockport who can meet all the people and narrow down the field of possibilities
. I imagine there’ll only be one, maybe two savants among them so it shouldn’t be too hard once inside the gates. Problem for me is that the band is so famous they keep ordinary members of the public far, far away.’

  ‘I see.’ I felt awful that I was going to let him down.

  ‘And Zed said he foresaw you performing at the festival the other day—just a snatch but he said you sounded great. That gave me an idea of asking you to be my spy.’

  ‘He did?’ That was weird: Zed’s predictions were rarely wrong.

  ‘So what do you say? Will you help me find her?’

  I rubbed my knees with the flat of my palms. ‘Of course, but the thing is … ’

  ‘She got kicked out of the band because she wouldn’t snog the lead singer,’ Misty said bluntly.

  Will put his beer down with a thunk. ‘What? Who is this asshole?’

  ‘And where does he live?’ Alex finished for him.

  As much as I would love to send my two heroes off to wipe the smile from Jay’s face, I didn’t think that would help Will. I held up a hand. ‘Let me think a moment.’ I’d kept in touch with Matt and he had told me that Jay hadn’t yet found anyone to replace me. The ones he had tried out had left after quickly discovering they had serious artistic differences with Jay: namely, they were decent musicians who didn’t like bullies. Jay would be getting desperate so might be ready to let me back into the lineup. The only problem was he would expect me to eat humble pie as I begged for my place and I’m not a natural at swallowing my pride.

  But Will was such a great guy. If I sat back while his lady flitted off to the next tour destination, delaying their meeting by months, then I’d feel like an amoeba. And I really did want to perform at Rockport if I was as good as Zed said I sounded.

  Sometimes future predictions make themselves come true just by being spoken aloud.

  ‘OK, Will, I’ll do it. I think I can talk my way back into the band.’

  Will was scowling. ‘I don’t want you to have to pay too high a price to help me.’

  ‘Don’t worry: I won’t let Jay stick his tongue down my throat. I have my defences.’