Fierce Angels

by May Dawson

  “Really?” I demanded.

  “Really, Firestarter,” Ryker said. “You want to have a temper tantrum, go right ahead. There’s work to do when you’re finished.”

  He turned and clattered back down the stairs, calling out gruffly, “I’ll be in the Jeep.”

  Levi sighed. “Helpful.”

  There was a deep, uncomfortable silence when he had gone. Jacob hesitated with his hand on the door, like he wanted to shut us all out, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to go back into his room now. Olivia’s cheeks were flushed as if she were embarrassed to see all our family drama. Levi clearly had something he wanted to say, but he jammed his hands in his pockets, hunching his broad shoulders. He didn’t say a word.

  Olivia said, “I’m going to get some work done in the office.”

  No one answered her. Levi crossed to me, glancing at Jacob as though he’d like privacy, and rested his hands on my hips. I avoided his gaze, knowing he was trying to gauge how I was really doing. He was always too perceptive when it came to me.

  “You going to be okay here?” His voice was low and warm.

  I met his gaze evenly. I had been trying to stay away from them because I knew I couldn’t change their minds now, and I also knew I couldn’t stop myself from telling them all the reasons they were wrong. He shouldn’t ask me a question like that. He wouldn’t like the answer.

  “Why are you asking me that when you’re the reason I’m not okay?”

  There was a flash of pain in his eyes. “I’m not trying to hurt you, sweet girl. Like I said before. Job one.”

  I dropped my eyes to his broad, flannel-covered shoulders, because I didn’t want to meet his eyes anymore. They were so full of worry. And we were standing so close it was hard to avoid his gaze, those full lips so near my own. Why did he have to stand so distractingly close to me when I was so angry at him?

  “I don’t want to hear that,” I said.

  “I know.” His thumbs knit through my belt loops, his big hands spanning my hips. “I’ll miss you while I’m gone.”

  I dared to glance up, and quirked an eyebrow at him. “Even knowing that I’m mad at you?”

  “I like you even at your most annoying,” he promised me. There was a flash of humor in his beautiful, long-lashed eyes.

  I felt myself give a little, even though I wanted to still be furious at him. “I think you’re being annoying right now, for the record. Worse than annoying.”

  “And you like me anyway?” he teased.

  Jacob’s door clicked shut, closing us out.

  “Nope,” I said. “I do not.”

  But he leaned forward, and I thought he was going to kiss me. It was only as I leaned forward into his kiss that I realized he was actually bending forward to whisper into my ear, but it was too late. My lips grazed his cheek.

  He turned his head and kissed me back, his big hands still spanning my hips. As if he held me close, held me down and grounded, even when I wanted to float away.

  12

  I watched from the window in my room as the Jeep pulled out down the long gravel driveway, and then I went to find Olivia. She was in the office, packing up her laptop into her hot pink backpack.

  “I’m starving,” I said, tossing myself into a wheeled office chair; it rolled back across the tile floor faster than I’d expected. I sat up, trying to look nonchalant. Like I could be trusted as a Hunter. Like I could be trusted to keep myself safe in a rolling chair. “Do you want to order a pizza or something?”

  “No delivery out here,” she said.

  “We could go get it.”

  She shook her head. “No, we can’t.”

  It took me a moment to put the logistics together. “There’s no second car. Olivia, don’t go. Don’t leave me trapped here with Jacob.”

  I was supposed to sound teasing, but it came out whinier than anything else.

  “You’re safe here,” she said, zipping up her backpack. “The house is warded. And it has the best security system known to man, thanks to me.” She pointed to the screens on the wall, which were covered in gray images now. I squinted at them, then realized it was imagery from around the house and surrounding woods.

  “But I’m a prisoner,” I said. “Safe and a prisoner.”

  “Would you stop?” she seemed exasperated. “This is not like when you were trapped by the Company. You’re with people who care about you, who want to keep you safe. And you’re being pretty awful about it all.”

  Her words struck me through. I felt like I was being a drama queen, but also helpless to stop it. I was trying to take care of my sister.

  “So I take it you don’t want to be friends?” I asked crisply. “You never answered me upstairs.”

  “I would love to be your friend,” she said. “As long as it’s friendship you want, and not your sister’s coordinates.”

  I bit down on my lip. “Both would be nice…”

  She threw her backpack over her shoulder and headed for the stairs.

  “Olivia. I was just joking. I’m not stupid, I wouldn’t follow the coordinates on my own…”

  “Bye, Ellis,” she threw over her shoulder, heading up the stairs.

  Okay, so maybe not my top choice for a new best friend.

  She was still the only choice I knew of, though.

  I pulled one of the books of magic off a stack on the long table facing the screens and began to flip through it. The room felt cool and eerie, being here alone, faced with the endless soft static of the ever-changing security camera feeds.

  I heard a creak upstairs, and a sense of anxiety raced up my spine. I glanced back down at the gilt-edged book in my lap; how long had I been engrossed in Magicks for Everyday Use? After the creak, it seemed deeply quiet in the house, as if I could be all alone here.

  I smelled red sauce and fresh crust before I heard Jacob, his feet quiet on the stairs. He set a pizza on the table in front of me.

  “You should eat,” he said.

  “You got me a pizza?”

  He leaned forward, taking a slice himself; long strands of drippy mozzarella came along with his slice, and his long, agile tongue swept them up. He chewed and then swallowed, taking his time.

  I’d already begun eating before he answered, “I got me a pizza. Just thought you might like some.”

  I glanced down at the slice, which was hot and delicious, covered in sausage, mushrooms and pepperoni. “How’d you know this is my favorite kind?”

  “It’s like eighty percent of the population’s favorite, Ellis. Not like we’re slice-soulmates.”

  Right. He was still Jacob. And I was still mad at him. I ate my pizza in silence, staring at the grainy flickering images from outside.

  “You still want a book?” he asked.

  I was reluctant to admit it, but I said, “Yes.”

  “Then earn it in the dojo after dinner.”

  I tilted my head back to look up at the ceiling in exasperation. “I’m not going to work out after eating pizza. Sometimes it’s really obvious you aren’t exactly human.”

  He nodded slowly. It was long enough for me to start to feel like maybe I’d hurt his feelings. His humanity wasn’t something to joke about.

  He said, “You are just super-feisty tonight, aren’t you?”

  “It’s been a rough day.”

  “I know.” He put his feet up on the desktop in front of us. “Not trying to one-up you. I know you expected today to play out differently. But I have to tell you, I always hate going into the slipscape.”

  “Tell me more about it,” I said.

  “The slipscape?”

  “Your slipscape.”

  He sighed. He took another bite and began to chew, staring at the screens himself, and put his feet up on the long table, leaning back in his chair. The silence stretched between us, awkward like usual, and I thought he wasn’t going to say anything.

  I needed to understand the new world I found myself in, but every question I had also seemed to press som
e tender bruise for the boys. Here I was, asking Jacob to explain the parallel universe where he was murdered as a kid. Maybe I could be more tactful. I closed my eyes and tried to figure out how to reframe that question.

  “Well, we need an alternate dimension that we all have an anchor to.” Jacob’s voice surprised me, and I sat up a little, opening my eyes. He wasn’t looking at me; he was still staring at the screens. “It’s a world that occupies almost the exact same space as ours, so we can always figure out direction and coordinates. It’s easier to get back to someplace you all have an attachment to. Some… strong emotional feeling.”

  “Lucky me, then, I should be able to get back to the treehouse after today’s fight.”

  He nodded faintly. “Yes, you should.”

  “But why that dimension?” It felt impolite to name it: the one where you’re dead. Couldn’t they have picked something that wasn’t quite so painful?

  “Ryker and Levi have an emotional attachment to the spot where they buried their dog,” he said. “And then, to think that I would have been the one buried there…”

  He trailed off. I felt my lips part, feeling that I should have something wise and compassionate to say.

  “I guess they wonder where they would’ve put the dog, then?” he finished.

  He surprised me into smiling, and then I felt myself blush faintly, embarrassed by that reaction. His eyes were steady on me.

  “Still mad at me?” he asked. “Even after pizza?”

  “It depends. Do we really have to dojo after this?”

  He said, “Well, maybe we could take one night off.”

  “Thank you.” I said. I realized that, for the first time, I’d have to sleep in my room alone. I imagined myself sitting up awake that night, listening to the whistle of the wind through the pines, too restless with anxiety to sleep. I could picture myself slipping down the hall and tapping on Jacob’s door. It would be quiet for a few seconds inside, long enough for me to have second thoughts, to start to pad down the hall to my own room. Then he would swing the door open. Those bright golden eyes would meet mine.

  And he would say… what?

  I didn’t know what would come after that. Crushing rejection or cuddles. That was a chance I couldn’t take.

  “Maybe we should go to the apothecary,” he said.

  I froze. He was full of surprises tonight.

  Dread washed over me, but I couldn’t let him see it. I grinned. “So desperate to be rid of me after all, huh?”

  “The apothecary we visit in D.C.,” he said, “Happens to be owned by a man who once raised his family back from the dead. I thought we might talk with him.”

  I cocked my head and took another slice of pizza, biting into it and chewing slowly, even though the thought of swallowing it made my throat ache. I didn’t want to eat; I just needed a second to calm myself down. I couldn’t quite parse what he was saying. Maybe he just wanted me to understand the impossibility of Mr. Joseph’s promise.

  Maybe he wanted to help me with my sister.

  But that possibility felt tremulous, a thin string between us that might break if I pulled it too hard. I didn’t want to say the wrong thing. I took a second bite.

  “I’m not saying yes, Princess,” he said. “I’m just saying we can do our homework.”

  I leaned forward and put the slice of pizza down on the table.

  I wanted to kiss him. Joy was a restless bubble rising through my chest, and I turned my head away, because I didn’t want Jacob to see he’d just made me so damn happy. All I wanted was to have someone on my side, helping me. Helping Ash. Could Jacob really be on my side now?

  “Sure,” I said. “Let’s do our homework.”

  13

  “How are we going to go on a road trip without a car?” I asked Jacob as we stepped out onto the porch into the cool night air.

  He nodded at my shoes. “Those comfortable? We’ll walk into town and I’ll steal one.”

  “You’re going to get arrested one of these days.”

  “We’ll see. I did a bit in juvie in London and it was like a vacation, but I’ve never had any trouble since.”

  We started down the gravel driveway. “How long of a walk is it?”

  “Eight miles.”

  I threw my hands up in exasperation at this detail. He ducked his head slightly, a smile playing on his lips. “No dojo. Conditioning work.”

  “You make me crazy,” I said.

  “Idem,” he said.

  I wasn’t going to give him the pleasure of asking. “So do all the British Hunters learn Latin and breaking-and-entering? You’re very well-rounded.”

  “The family I ended up with is a bunch of thieves and extortionists,” he said. “They mostly pass undisturbed by the police, because what they do with the supernatural… well, it’s essential. They’ve found a way to provide an essential service and still profit handsomely with their other activities.”

  Wendy had sent him off to live with criminals. Had this woman not had access to Care.com? Had she asked for any references at all before she sent her tiny son off to live with monsters?

  “What was the best part of living in Britain?”

  “Not hearing an American accent.” Well, he was quick with that one. I pursed my lips, wondering if my voice really annoyed him that much.

  “You know what’s really weird here?” He asked. “Small talk with strangers. Why the hell do people think you want to talk to them in the line to buy a sixer and a pack of hot dogs?”

  I nodded, but now that he had begun, apparently he wanted to keep going on all the ways that America in general—and probably me in particular—annoyed him.

  He went on. “Americans drinking milk. It’s for putting on cereal and in coffee, if you must. Hugging. So much hugging with you lot. Supersized portions of things you shouldn’t eat anyway. High school sports. College sports.”

  “All right, I get it,” I said.

  “The gaps in bathroom stalls. Tax not being included in prices. Iced tea. Flat lemonade.”

  “Okay, okay, I get the picture. What’s the best part of being here?”

  He hesitated. He was still smug-looking over the expansive list he had of what was wrong with America, and I expected a glib answer. He glanced away before he admitted, “It’s been… tough…getting to know my brothers again. But I’m glad I have.”

  “And yet you still want to up and leave them?”

  The silence hung between us. Even the trees on the side of the road seemed to hang, still and gray, their limbs casting long shadows on the paved road.

  “Oh,” I said. “You don’t want to leave them. Just me.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “Don’t put words into my mouth, Princess. I take pleasure in telling you what I think of you myself.”

  I pursed my lips. I didn’t want to fight with him. So I asked lightly, “Teach me how to steal a car when we get there?”

  “Sure.”

  Wendy’s motorcycle boot had always fit a bit too loosely in the heels. I should have taken the boys’ credit card for a more complete workout in the mall. I tried to walk normally, but the heel began to rub raw.

  I took awkward steps, trying to avoid sending the seam along the heel to dig into my skin.

  “Why are you being weird?” Jacob asked.

  “Because I recently learned I’m the reincarnation of the first woman, that my sister may or may be totally dead, and people want to force me into the terrifying world beyond death?”

  His eyebrows lifted, and he shook his head slightly before he answered. “I meant why you’re walking weird.”

  “Blister,” I said shortly.

  “I thought those shoes were comfortable.” He said it impatiently, like I was getting blisters just to spite him.

  “So did I.”

  “I would’ve gotten a taxi for us.”

  “A taxi was an option?”

  “Yeah, of course. Just no
t the best option. This is free and it’s conditioning.”

  “If you use the word conditioning again tonight, I’m going to punch you in the face.”

  “You can try, Princess.”

  “You have some weird kinks, Jake.”

  “You have no idea.” The tiniest smirk lifted the corners of his lips. “Yet.”

  I shook my head. He blew hot and cold; he was impossible to figure out.

  He stopped abruptly, unbuckling his sword in its sheath and shrugging off the harness.

  “What’re you doing?” I asked.

  He didn’t bother to answer. But holding his sword in his hand, he squatted down slightly in front of me. I took in the broad expanse of his shoulders in his shiny black leather jacket.

  “Come on,” he said impatiently. “You’re going to be no use in a fight with your feet a mess.”

  “Are we getting into a fight?” I asked.

  “You never know.”

  “I didn’t plan on a fight.” I took a step back, shaking my head. “I can’t ride piggyback… for one thing, you’re an angel.”

  “Half-angel.”

  I didn’t even know why I’d just said that. Jacob was intimidating in so many ways, but it wasn’t the supernatural that made it seem ridiculous to hop on his back. Like his girlfriend. Like his girlfriend if we were at the state fair, not on our way to talk to a demonist who owned a shop of magic ingredients. Like I was his girlfriend at the state fair, after he’d just won me an enormous teddy-bear with those big muscles of his, and then we’d both had vanilla soft-serve, and his lips were still cold when we kissed.

  Apparently I had quite the state fair fantasy.

  “Ellis, you’re being ridiculous. This is the practical thing.”

  “I cannot believe you’re willing to do something so nice for me.”

  “I’m not really trying to be nice, I’m trying to keep you not-broken. You’re already nearly useless in a fight. Get on.”

  “I guess one of us has to be.” Not broken, that was.

  His lips curled up slightly, but he didn’t sound angry when he asked, “Are you really insulting me right now?”