A Slither of Hope

by Lisa M Basso

  Book 2 in the Angel Sight Series

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author makes no claims to, but instead acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the word marks mentioned in this work of fiction.

  Copyright © 2014 by Lisa M. Basso

  A SLITHER OF HOPE by Lisa M. Basso

  All rights reserved. Published in the United States of America by Month9Books, LLC.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Published by Month9Books

  Cover designed by Stephanie Mooney

  Cover Copyright © 2014 Month9Books

  Book 2 in the Angel Sight Series

  Chapter One

  Rayna

  I turned in front of the mirror to examine my wings, hoping that if I angled just so, they’d disappear and never return. Unfortunately, I couldn’t be that lucky. The gray monstrosities protruded from between my shoulder blades and curved up over my shoulders. Still left without much control over them, most of the time they hung out, extending two feet past my arms, and flopping by my sides. The feathers started out small at the top, rounded, almost like soft, downy flower petals, growing in length and layering at the ends. On paper, it would have sounded great. In real life, I looked like a damned pigeon.

  Great. Another day in paradise, I thought to myself while pinning on a long blond wig that had not only seen better days, but had also seen better years.

  Life had certainly changed in the last three and a half weeks. Sure, I’d harnessed my ability to see angels as some kind of psycho superweapon, and had helped thwart an evil angel’s plan to align himself with the devil, but what did I get in return? I was an escapee wanted by the Sunflower Serenity Mental Health Clinic, a person of interest wanted by the San Francisco Police Department, and a chick with wings the devil himself wanted in Hell.

  I couldn’t be sixteen-year-old Rayna Evans any more. Now I was Lola Penmis, an eighteen-year-old blond with awful bangs who worked at a floral shop-coffee house with no past to speak of.

  Kade shoved open the moth-eaten curtains. The glimmer that bounced off my wings flooded our shared bedroom with light, illuminating the dust particles flittering off the drapes. “This is a mistake,” Kade said, shaking his head. “The last thing you need is your friend turning you in.”

  I inhaled a furry plume of dust and coughed, waving my hand in front of me. “You say everything I do is a mistake.” I swept across the room, rolling the vacuum behind me.

  He collapsed onto the chair by the window. His dark hair, messily slicked back, flipped up behind his ears and at the nape of his neck. “It applies when all your decisions are stupid ones.” He flicked a glance at the vacuum and stretched his long legs lazily in front of him.

  This I’m-not-moving attitude of his wasn’t worth fighting. Not today. I ditched the vacuum and returned to the mirror, pushing in another painful bobby pin between my hair and wig.

  I caught him in the mirror shielding his eyes from my sparkly wings. He angled one of his own wings in front of the window, positioning the black feathers into the rays to block out the sun. The shimmers dancing across the room cut off, the killjoy smashing my disco ball.

  “Gee. Thanks.” I quirked up one side of my lip. “But I haven’t seen Lee since the day he came home from the hospital. I’m going. It’ll be fine. Conversation over.” Almost a month had passed since Azriel, the Fallen angel that wanted to drag me to Hell, went after Lee in an effort to persuade me to go along quietly. “No way I’m bailing on him.”

  “Maybe I’ll come too, and you can introduce me as your boyfriend.” His chin was so covered in stubble he looked like he hadn’t shaved in almost a week, and damn if it didn’t highlight that awful smirk on those crazy cute lips.

  Instead of continuing to stare—and practically drool—I combed a layer of mascara through my lashes and slicked on a coat of my favorite lavender lip balm. A few stray brown locks caught my attention, peeking out from beneath the cover of blond bangs. “Not a chance. I can handle this.” I tucked the brown away.

  “I still don’t see the point of that wig. If people know what you look like, the blond hair isn’t going to magically screw with their heads.” He raised his voice an octave higher and added a thick southern drawl. “I think that’s the girl wanted in questioning for the Stratford Independence suicides. But, wait. No it couldn’t be; she has different-colored hair.”

  “Ha.” I feigned a bad laugh. “Why, when you impersonate humans, do you think we’re all from the South?”

  He stretched his arms above his head and rolled his neck side to side. “I can’t help it if that’s how you all sound.” He glanced over his shoulder and lowered his wing. The sun had dipped behind the tall building across the street.

  At least he didn’t bring up my wings again. While angels and Fallen couldn’t see each other’s wings, apparently both sides could see my smaller version just fine. Which hadn’t sat well with any of us. Always being on high alert, constantly on the look-out for another set of wings wasn’t my idea of fun, but I refused to hide from the world.

  I slid the fake ID Kade had acquired from the single shiftiest-looking bum I’d ever seen into my pocket along with my lip balm and burner cell. One I could use for emergencies and ditch if things got hairy.

  “So, I’ll see you later then?”

  That supremely awkward moment we experienced every time I left the apartment surfaced as I neared the door. The way he watched me, eyes half-lidded, set me on edge. It was as if he was studying me, but not in the usual way people did. He wasn’t searching for the former craziness I swore I still carried around like a sack of potatoes, he was looking for weakness.

  After he saved my life—twice—we almost shared an accidental kiss. A few days later, he asked me to move in with him—strictly because I had nowhere else to go. Nearly a month later our friendship was still… odd. In the most uncomfortable way possible.

  “I’ll be here.” He stretched a leg over the arm of the chair. “If you need me.”

  Yikes.

  I made another nervous sound and left, refusing to look back.

  ***

  I rubbed my knuckles together in the hopes a single nerve would fire again, careful not to spill the two hot chocolates in my hands, and I breathed into my violet scarf, trying to avoid the pit of fear in my stomach due to standing just above the freaking bay. My stomach quaked, chest pounding. Why did it have to be water?

  The longer I stood staring at the forty-foot-high Christmas tree, the more people gathered around it, ghosting through my wings, leaving me chilled to my soul. To avoid being swallowed by the crowds, I was constantly stepping back and to the left. Freezing cold air blew off the water of the bay surrounding Pier 39, not only cooling the surrounding area, but leaving it damp as well. I bumped my knees together, reminding myself to get a thicker winter jacket with my next paycheck, and make Lee promise I’d never have to meet him anywhere near the bay again. I brushed my arm over the book in my pocket, the one I carried everywhere with me, wishing I could leave my fear behind and lose myself in my favorite story instead of braving the outside world.

  A group of men and women, all in red and white Santa hats, took to the stage in front of the massive tree and began singing “Joy to the World”. Red, gold, and silver ornaments twinkled and ribbon bows dripped off the tree that was scheduled to be lit in ten minutes, according to the a
nnouncer.

  Holding a tree lighting celebration before Thanksgiving seemed odd after the non-festivities both in Safford and at the SS Crazy, where religious holiday celebrations are considered insensitive to the other patients. It must have bumped up the shopping in the area—it certainly drew a crowd.

  A hip bumped mine and almost toppled me over. So obviously not in the holiday mood, I turned to scream “watch it”, but found Lee by my side. A black and white snowflake beanie covered up his trademark spiky hair, and his black jeans fit closer to his body than usual. A pair of brand-name shoes covered his feet, plus he had new frameless glasses. Gone were his favorite square black frames, zip-up hoodie, and worn-out Vans. It was official: Lee had been swept away by a T.A.R.D.I.S. and replaced by a hipster.

  “I’m glad you showed.” I handed him the H.C. with extra whipped cream. I purposely trucked several blocks out of my way to Ghirardelli Square so when we met I could hand him only the best. “When I posted on your wall, I wasn’t sure.”

  “I almost didn’t.”

  This whole time I’d been trying to conceal my nervousness, confident that our friendship could withstand anything. Time, mistruths, even death. But now, I got the feeling I was overshooting.

  “Okay.”

  This is good, I tried to convince myself. Honesty is good, and a steppingstone to opening communication, which leads to understanding. I could still hear Dr. Graham’s therapy sessions in my head.

  “Your dad told my mom that you were…”

  “Crazy,” I filled in, hardening myself to the unexpected mention of both my dad and my mental status. The burst of coldness from the pier under us chilled my heart a little, too.

  Lee’s hand tapped against his favorite drink, the one he hadn’t taken a sip of yet.

  He hadn’t even looked me in the eye either. This was a mistake. I should have left him out of this, given us a clean break. He deserved at least that after Azriel’s possession, which nearly caused him to commit suicide.

  The carolers finished their song with too many flourishes. Farther down the pier, I could hear a jazz quartet playing… the same freaking song.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” he finally asked.

  I took a swallow of what was now thick, tepid chocolate. “Because I wanted to start my life over.”

  “I get that, at first, but why not tell me later?” In my peripheral, I saw him turn his head to look at me.

  “I see angels. That’s why they locked me up. Do you think that’s fair?” After his run-in with Azriel, Lee had admitted to seeing his wings. Though there was no telling if that had been wiped from his mind somehow or if it had been suppressed. It was still a pretty big shocker to deal with.

  “I…uh, guess not.”

  That didn’t really tell me if he remembered or not, so I went on, “And I’m assuming you know the cops want me for questioning.” Of the three successful suicides at my former high school, I was still a person of interest wanted for questioning in two of the cases. Allison Woodward, who I found the day Cam arrived, and Cassie Waters, the night of the Halloween dance. When she pressed a gun to her temple on the roof of Stratford Independence—and pulled the trigger—right before Az swooped me up and tried to sacrifice me to Hell.

  “Yeah, they came by, and urged Mom and I to call if you tried to get in contact.”

  Worry fluttered in my chest like a trapped bird. I used the breeze, angling my wig so it would cover more of my face. I darted a gaze in every direction, searching for any possible sign of the boys in blue, but there were too many people and the sun was quickly setting, darkening the sky.

  “Don’t worry. You saved my life. I wouldn’t turn you in.”

  I exhaled a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

  “But I should warn you—” he started, but couldn’t finish.

  “Hey.” Gina Garson waved at us, gracefully maneuvering through the increasingly large crowd beside us. “Sorry, the line for the bathroom was major,” she spoke to Lee. Only to Lee. The sweater she wore hung loose, but I could still see a small bump in her stomach. “Really good to see you, Rayna. And nice hair.”

  The last time we talked, she’d called me a tweaker freak, if I remembered correctly. “Uh, yeah. You too?” I leveled a confused glare at Lee.

  What was she doing here? Obviously Lee invited her, but why? What would he be doing hanging out with Luke Harper’s pregnant girlfriend? Especially when Luke was one of the main reasons I was wanted by the cops anyway. The night of the Halloween dance, Cam and I saved Luke from ending up a splat on the sidewalk. When the police found him and Cassie’s body the next day, he’d told them I was there, the day after I’d escaped from the SS Crazy.

  I couldn’t help being a little bitter about certain things, Luke and Gina included.

  Gina smiled over at Lee. She was just as stylish and fashion-wise as before, but her mocha skin was free of the makeup she used to glob on. She angled her body toward him and sniffed the cup in his hand.

  “Ray got us some H.C.” He handed her his cup.

  She gulped down several sips. “Mmm!” She licked a tiny bit of whipped cream from her top lip and looked at me. “Thanks. I hope we’re cool. The last time we talked, I was stressed and snippy. Pregnancy hormones, you know. They’re crazy.”

  I didn’t know, not about hormones, but I spent more than my fair share of time being crazy. Still, she didn’t appear apprehensive at all about being so close to a wanted—sort of—fugitive. “Uh-huh.” This made me wonder what she knew and what she didn’t.

  “Luke told me you and Cam saved his life. He said he told the police the same thing.”

  This was news to me. But that wouldn’t have stopped the cops from finding my fingerprints all over the crime scene on the roof and on Cassie. “I just wanted to say thank you—and that you look kick-ass. Luke and I aren’t together anymore, but when this little bundle is born,” she placed a protective hand over her tiny stomach, “it’s gonna need a father.”

  Well. That wasn’t at all what I’d been expecting. It seemed Gina and I were on better terms than I was with my own best friend.

  Lee smiled the first smile I’d seen on him in almost a month. But it wasn’t directed at me. Gina scrunched her nose at him and took another sip of her H.C. I took a step back, feeling out of place and unwanted. Two things I’d never, ever felt around Lee.

  My wings jerked, flaring out on their own before returning to a neutral, resting position. Whoa. Weird. Stranger still, an odd hum buzzed at the base between my shoulder blades, amplifying with each passing second. They’d never done that before. The unnerving action spiked my anxiety.

  I searched the area. The sky glowed midway between dusk and night, only slivers of the fading light reflecting gold off my wings. Hundreds of people had gathered to watch the ceremony, but I had the tingling suspicion that at least one of them was watching me.

  The haunting vibrations didn’t subside. I breathed and forced myself to get ahold on the varying levels of insecurity battling their way out of me. For Lee’s sake.

  He already knew I was nuts. He didn’t need a reminder of it.

  A group of important-looking people took the stage and started a countdown. Their presence—and them gaining almost the full attention of the entire crowd—helped me push back the reminder of the constant flutter. Everyone in the surrounding area joined in when the group reached ten.

  …nine…eight…seven…

  Lee’s eyes lit up as he glanced at Gina and jumped in on the countdown.

  …six…five…four…

  Gina bounced on the balls of her feet.

  …three…two…one…

  The man in the center pressed down the big red button. As the forty-foot tree lit up, I watched Lee’s hand brush Gina’s and her pinkie twine around his.

  Chapter Two

  Rayna

  I turned the doorknob to Kade’s apartment and stepped in. Night blanketed the room. I flipped the light switch. Nothing happened. F
licking it up and down a few more times produced the same result.

  Great. The power was out again. I’d have to badger Kade to call his slumlord in the morning.

  I closed the door and shed the blond wig, glad to be rid of it. Two of the bobby pins grabbed my own hair, ripping it and stinging my eyes.

  “Damn it!” I flung the wig onto the bed and rubbed the sore spot above my temple. Nothing had gone how I’d expected tonight. I’d hoped my meeting with Lee would grant us both an instant reconnection, but we definitely felt the month apart. Being rejected by my best friend hadn’t even been the strangest thing about the night. Even now I could still feel the ghost of buzzing inside my wings. It stopped mere moments after I left the pier, but the sensation clung to my feathers like static electricity.

  I blindly took another two steps into the room when something cold and hard pressed into my neck. I swallowed. The lump in my throat snaked around the object. I should have known Kade’s refusal to lock the apartment door would one day kick us in the tail—and of course it was my tail on the line, not his.

  Though my pulse thudded like a jackhammer, I sorted options in my brain. “There’s a… small stash of cash in the first drawer, and the TV might be worth a few bucks.” I waited for the threatening object to pull away from my neck. When it didn’t, my head swam, backstroking in fear.

  “What if I want something else?” the gruff voice asked, the length of his towering body pressing against the back of mine.

  This was not happening. My wings beat a wild rhythm against his chest.

  The cold edge of what I had to assume was a knife bit deeper into my flesh. It came on then: deer-in-the-headlights syndrome. I froze in place. White spots flitted through my vision.

  It was happening again.

  My mind transported me back to the top of the Golden Gate Bridge. I could hear the waves crashing around us. I stood, bare toes curled over the edge, looking down into the green lights of Hell through the hole Azriel had ripped in the Pacific Ocean.

  I sealed my eyes closed and focused on my breathing. “Take the cash. I won’t tell anyone. Please,” I squeaked, on the verge of tears. The bead of sweat trickling down the column of my neck did nothing to soften the hard pressure digging into my skin. It was the only thing keeping me on my feet. Panic revved up inside me, intensifying the flashback on the bridge. I felt the wind of that night blasting my cheeks and flapping my skirt, urging me forward, off the bridge. A strange whine escaped my throat.