Sky Ghosts: All for One (Young Adult Urban Fantasy Adventure) (Sky Ghosts Series Book 1)

by Engellmann, Alexandra

  He made an effort remembering what they were talking about.

  “I mean, he doesn’t exactly strike as a kind of guy befriending girls.” He made a tentative lunge, and Jane caught his sword between her two, turning him around and kicking him lightly below his back. “Hey!” He scampered a few steps forward, crashing against one of the pillars and stopping there. “What did I say??”

  She laughed.

  “I hope you’re not going to repeat that with Pain around? That part about girls?”

  “Okay, okay, I get it. Anyway, what had Marco found in you two?” He came back into the center of the room, turning the sword in his hand.

  Jane shrugged.

  “Marco is friends with everybody.” She pushed back a loose strand of hair and made a sign for Dave to strike first.

  “Yeah, that’s true,” he grunted with satisfaction when he almost reached her with his blade. She nodded in approval. “But you two and Ryan seem to be his best friends.”

  She shook her head with a chuckle.

  “If somebody told me this a few years ago, when Marco had just joined us, I’d laugh to death. Or pass out.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She sighed and rested her hands on her knees, taking a break.

  “When he was brought to us after our patrol found him drunk and passed out on some street among six dead Beasts, he was acting really wild. They explained to Marco where he was and offered him to join the organization, and he agreed. But he was keeping back from everybody, though I wouldn’t say anyone was dying to hang out with him, considering his appearance,” she grinned. “Aggression was his second self. And of course, he got to hating Pain from the very first encounter in the training hall. She was sixteen then and… well, you know how she is. She can be really mean and even arrogant sometimes. Back then she was far worse. Marco couldn’t know that she’s not a bad person, it’s just the way she behaves, especially, with someone new. And especially, when this someone has too much confidence, like him,” Jane smiled. “And Marco, he doesn’t really have much respect for anybody who’s not formidable enough. He mocks all short fighters all the time. So when he saw what she could do, I guess just the look of her annoyed him. Of course, he found a reason to pick on her right away, and she snapped back at him, so it all started…”

  Jane came to the bench to pick up a bottle of water and take a swig.

  “He would sting her for any tiny reason, and she would come back at him, so almost every day a bunch of gawkers would crowd to watch them bully each other. There were broken windows, chairs, flowerpots passed to trash every day. Everything was put to use.” She smiled crookedly. “Eventually, Peter found out about it. One day he came to the training hall where Pain and I were practicing along with a few other fighters, Marco included. He ordered them to swap partners so that Pain would practice with Marco. Of course, it couldn’t have provoked them more. Despite Peter’s presence and his… hmm, dissatisfaction with their behavior, they got more and more excited. In the end, Marco broke Pain’s arm, and Peter ordered them to stop. Well, actually, for the others to separate them. It turned out afterward that Marco had two broken ribs and a few bones cracked in his arms and feet. Peter didn’t say anything and just walked away.

  “And to everybody’s surprise, the quarrels stopped after that. For a couple of weeks Marco and Pain didn’t talk to each other at all, but at least there weren’t any names between them. And as time passed, they got to talking normally, and then to training together. They both found it useful because Pain needed to learn how to fight big opponents, and Marco wasn’t fast enough for small ones like her. They would discuss their tactics from their first fight, and why any one of them shouldn’t have done this or that. Then they practiced it. We moved to the third floor, and then Ryan joined the organization. He was a newcomer, so Marco chose him for a partner because Ryan wasn’t intimidated by him yet.” She paused, wondering if Ryan could ever be intimidated by anyone, with those cold blue eyes and blade-sharp mind. “Since we practically grew up together, we got used to each other. But with Marco and Pain it’s even bigger, I think. Some kind of a connection established between them from those days. In just a couple of months they became best friends. I guess with people like them it all depends on respect, and after that fight in the training hall, it became mutual. Once they acknowledged their equality, they stopped challenging each other.”

  She fell silent, taking in Dave’s expression. He looked lost deep in thought, and his eyes stared past her sightlessly. Her tired muscles groaned in protest as she stretched and went to pick up the swords that were leaned up against a pillar.

  “And what about Marco’s past? Did he tell you anything about his previous life, before the organization?” he asked at last.

  “Nope.” Jane stacked the swords’ hilts in her palm. “He never talked about it, even to Pain. We asked him a few times, but he never answered, so we all dropped it eventually. Some tried to track him down, but Pain…” she fumbled for the right word, “persuaded them otherwise. He’s a mystery to us,” she smiled wistfully and headed for the lodge. “I think it’s enough practice for today,” she added over her shoulder.

  Dave nodded without a word, watching her go while Chad jumped off his seat and came up to him.

  “Quite a story, huh?” He bumped him with his shoulder, passing by.

  “Yeah…” Dave answered and followed Chad, his mind still lost in it.

  He entered the room just as Pain came out of the bathroom in white shorts and a tank top, wiping her black hair with a towel. She looked so young without makeup and gear, so pale and thin and delicate, he would have easily mistaken her for a teenager in the streets. And she had been sixteen then. He doubted that Marco was any smaller back then, but she was. Dave stared at her now, trying to imagine her breaking Marco’s ribs. Marco, who seemed to weigh half a ton.

  She noticed his glassy gaze and gave him a despising look.

  “You’re staring at me,” she muttered. Dave only raised his eyebrows, not hearing what she was saying. “What are you staring at?” She stared back at him for a moment with her hands on her hips. “Pervert,” she concluded and began putting on her pants.

  Dave came around with a bewildered face.

  “What?”

  “I said ‘pervert,’ pervert,” she responded, coming up to the lamp. “And don’t even think of dreaming about me,” she added, her voice exaggeratedly strict.

  Behind her, Chad chuckled and got under his blanket. And then she turned the light off.

  *

  She stood high on a rooftop, her face hidden under the mask, her hair flapping in a harsh wind. It was cold, and fuzzy white snowflakes drifted around, caught in abrupt gusts every now and then and carried away helplessly. Pain seemed to be watching them, mesmerized by this chaotic dance of white against the violet-black sky. Chad wondered if she felt the freezing winter air around them in her gear. It was cold beyond measure for him. Maybe he should have worn something more solid, but he didn’t even know what he was wearing and how he had got here and why.

  He stepped closer to the low wall that ran along the edge, and peeked over it. The streets below looked familiar, blinking with their yellow windows, citizens going to sleep one by one. Brooklyn, he guessed. Streets, rooftops, wires were covered in white. Somewhere down there a car honked when someone forgot to go at a green light. He shivered and saw that she was looking at him over her shoulder.

  He headed to her then, and she turned away, waiting for him to come up.

  “What are we doing here?” he asked over the sound of his sneakers squishing the snow that clung to the roof surface in spite of the blowing wind.

  She didn’t answer. He could see that some of the snow had already gathered on her shoulders, hood, arms that were folded on her chest. She breathed steadily, and white clouds of air appeared and vanished in front of her every now and again.

  “Pain, it’s freezing. Let’s get back inside.”

  He did
n’t know where inside. The building looked totally unfamiliar to him, and yet he had said it that way, as if he knew what he was talking about. He mused upon his own words for a moment, feeling something slip away from him as he tried to understand what was going on.

  “We can’t go back. You can’t. And I can’t let you go in there,” she responded, not taking her eyes off the city below.

  “Why, are we going to just stand here, then?” he asked, confused.

  “No,” she answered quickly, and her voice was serene and sure.

  “Then let’s get going wherever we have to, because I can’t feel my fingers already,” he suggested and took her by the shoulder, turning her to face him.

  She obeyed and stepped closer, unwinding her arms and tipping her head back to look at his face. Her expression was concealed from him, and he wished she would lower that mask. Only her eyes were visible, and they were bright and smiling. Something flickered in one of her hands as she straightened them at her sides, but he was looking at her face then.

  She finally answered.

  “But we’re not going anywhere,” she shook her head slightly and placed her left hand on his chest. “We’re here for a reason.”

  Chad frowned, confused. Why was she being like this, talking in puzzles? He had never seen her act this way before.

  “What reason?” he asked with a shrug.

  She drew her right hand back, and moonlight reflected off the knife she was holding against his stomach.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered – and drove the blade home.

  *

  Chad gasped for air, coming around in utter darkness. The sound of his own breathing filled his ears, being the only disturbance in this silence. He pressed a hand to his chest, as if to make sure he was intact, and felt the fluttering of his heart under it. As he glanced around in confusion, it slowed down a bit. Somehow he understood that he was still in the lodge inside the barn, though it was impossible to make out anything in this blackness around him.

  As his eyes adjusted, he saw the dim outlines of the furniture, illuminated by some of the moonlight from the doorway and the microwave’s display that shone green in the corner. It showed two AM. Without realizing what he was doing, he pulled upright and staggered to the sofa, only to fall to his knees at Pain’s side of the bed. She was sleeping on her side, her face turned away from him, so he reached out and touched her shoulder.

  “Pain, wake up,” he whispered, leaning close to her. He was vaguely aware of Jane, who slept peacefully on the other side of the bed, and he didn’t want to wake her up. His fingers closed on Pain’s slender shoulder. “It’s me, wake up, please,” he repeated when she stirred.

  She rolled onto her back with a startle, blinking at him dizzily.

  “What?” her lips moved in the darkness. “What’s wrong?” her voice was low and throaty, but somehow the sound of it seemed reassuring at the moment, bringing him back to Earth.

  “I need to ask you something. I had a dream, and I…” He shook his head. “I can’t sleep.”

  He sank lower on his knees as she heaved herself into a sitting position, careful not to rock the bed under her sister. She blinked in confusion as she took in the picture of him, at least as much as she could see in the dark.

  Once she saw a set of photographs on some website – they were cemetery angels, grave statues gathered from around the world. They were all beautiful in the saddest way: their features withered away with time, their white marble streaked with dirt and covered in leaves, their feathery wings chipped off here and there. There was so much in those photos, especially, with the purpose that the statues served, those sorrowful stone creatures on top of people’s graves. She could never forget them.

  And now she was reminded of them again, seeing him like this, with his legs folded under him, his broad shoulders slouched and hands clasping the edge of her bed. His hair was messy and falling into his eyes, and he was shirtless and shuddering, whether from the cold or from something that bothered him. His figure lacked only heavy wings folded behind his back. And well, she wasn’t sure if angels were supposed to have tattoos, even small ones.

  “What is it?” she asked finally, pulling her blanket up. “What do you want to ask?”

  Chad looked up. Half of his face was green from the microwave’s light, and it created sharp shadows under his eye and cheekbone, making him look devilish, one eye gleaming bright-green in the darkness. But his expression was strained and desperate, his eyebrows knit, and lips parted as if he was in shock.

  “Have you ever killed a human? Not a Sky fighter, but an ordinary human?” he asked suddenly, and she forgot how to breathe.

  She stared down at him, eyes wide and not blinking, and scrambled in her blank mind for any reason why he would ask this in the middle of the night. Almost a minute passed, and she drew a slow, careful breath.

  “No, why?” she whispered and slid her legs off the bed. “Why are you asking??”

  He blinked as if realizing what he was doing for the first time.

  “I don’t know,” he answered, dazed. “I don’t know why I could ever think so,” he looked at her with so much hope, as if she knew the answer, his long eyes wondering and confused.

  She sighed quietly and got up, pulling him upward by the shoulders. He was shivering badly, she realized with a surprise. Of course, it was a little chilly and damp in the lodge, but she felt alright. Chad raised his head and looked at her through the tangled hair. He was so much taller, and yet somehow he seemed no more than a boy to her at that moment.

  She shook her head, her hair spilling over her bare shoulders.

  “I don’t know if you’re aware, but we have a Code. We live by it. We don’t use guns or explosives, we don’t show on the streets in gear and armed, and we don’t harm humans if they’re not a threat to us. Even criminals. The most we can do is knock them out, that’s- ”

  “I’m a threat to you right now,” he exhaled, interrupting her.

  “No,” she cut off, but he shook his head.

  “Eugene’s men have already killed some of yours. They came for me.”

  “Right now you’re our hope,” she blurted out before she could have stopped herself, seeing how shaken he was. She drew a breath before continuing. “Think about it! Eugene hasn’t made so much fuss for years. Even if we’re not coping with it that well, we’re still close to something important.”

  She fell silent, and for a minute he just looked at her, breathing deep and not knowing what else to say. He knew she would never agree with him anyway, so in the end he just dropped it.

  “Okay,” he breathed out. “I understand.” He managed to give her a weak smile. “But I still can’t sleep. You wanna do something since we’re awake?” he suggested, shrinking inwardly as soon as the words slipped from his lips. It was good he was still crazed up from his dream, because otherwise he would never have had enough courage to say something so bold.

  She blinked.

  “Are you out of your mind??” Oh, here it goes, he thought. “It’s two AM!” she pointed at the microwave. “And you look sick. Get under the blanket, now!”

  She pushed him to his armchair. Her hands left cold imprints on his body, and the touch sobered him up a little more.

  He could do nothing but obey and lie down, not taking his eyes off her. She stood by his feet and gazed down at him, her look stern, her arms crossed over her small chest.

  “I said under the blanket,” she whispered, not very patiently. Chad scooted on the bed, pulling his blanket out from under him and covering himself with it.

  “I won’t sleep anyway,” he protested quietly, looking at her, and Pain sighed again.

  She stepped around the armchair and sat on its edge, right by his arm. He ached to reach out and pull her down with him, and for a second that arm felt completely alien while he willed it to stay where it was.

  “I’ll make sure you will,” she said, and some of the usual malevolent gleam was back in her eyes. />
  He smirked weakly.

  “Then tell me a story,” he joked, since she seemed to be in a good mood. She treated him just like Jane would, he realized with a bit of surprise. So it wasn’t just their looks that were similar, after all?

  “Oh, you want a story before you leave me alone so I can sleep again?” she said with irony, and he gave her a boyish smile. “Okay, I’ll give you one,” suddenly she said and shrugged.

  His eyes widened. Really? Pain, telling bedtime stories? Everything got mixed in his head as he moved closer to the edge to make some room for her. She sat beside him and pulled her feet up, sliding them under his blanket. They were small, thin and scarred, toenails glistening with polish, and he remembered how with these very same feet she broke rib cages in that apartment downtown like they were made of waffles. No way would he ever get used to this.

  He watched her curiously from below, feeling as someone might feel watching a butterfly sit nearby, afraid to scare it off with the sound of voice or an abrupt movement.

  “Once there was a Sky Ghost named Joseph…”

  As her voice carried in the darkness, he wasn’t sure where the borders between her story and his dream were. But he saw no more nightmares. He dreamed of a noble Sky Ghost and his little daughter, which he had taught everything she needed to know to become a better warrior than he was. He didn’t know the daughter’s name, though, and when he woke up in the morning, he could barely remember what his dream was about. But he knew for sure it was a good one.

  Chapter 16

  The barn was dark already when Chad picked up a garbage bag and came out of the room, heading to a big metal bin in the corner and trying not to trip over something. The sisters stood in his way talking about something worriedly. They still were in their training clothes, shorts and tank tops, and their faces glistened with perspiration. That day their training had taken much longer than usual, and they hadn’t even had their supper yet.