ARC: Crushed (10 page)

I can force the Crusaders out if they try to possess me again, I know that now, and the Sarge said they wouldn’t. But can I trust her? Can I risk it? What’s the alternative? The Crusaders are the only things protecting me from the demons. As my run in with Armand proved, it’s too easy for them to find me. So what can I do? Jo will know. Jo has to know.

I jump down the stairs, taking them five, six at a time. I land at the bottom and I feel almost in control of myself, the closer I get to Jo’s room. But then all that comes crashing down and I break into a skittering halt.

For on my door is a shiny new lock.

They’re going to lock me in my room.

My breathing freezes in my chest. They can’t. No more. NO MORE. I force myself to breathe, forcing away the panic that makes it impossible to think. I welcome the rage that takes its place. I like rage. Rage I can handle. Rage is control.

No more.

Light shines through the crack beneath the door. They’re waiting for me. Whoever did this is waiting. I shove the door open so hard it bounces off the inside wall with a crack. What I see I don’t understand. Not right away.

Sitting inside are Jo and Chi – and Jo’s holding the key.

Chapter 11

I shake my head, not wanting to believe it. Jo wouldn’t do this to me; she wouldn’t take away my last tiny shred of freedom. I have no doubt now that the Crusaders would. I expect it from them, expect anything of them at this point.

But I don’t expect it from Jo.

“Tell me that’s not what I think it is,” I snarl.

She rises to her feet. “It is, Meda, but listen—”

“I’m done listening!” I advance on her. “I listen to you, I listen to the Crusaders. All I bloody do is listen, while you and your precious Crusaders lecture. And who listens to me?”

“Oh, don’t be so melodramatic–”

“
Melodramatic
?” It’s barely a word the way it comes from my lips.

“–it’s just for a little while.” Her words tumble out, trying to squeeze into the short time she has before I throw her out – if she’s lucky, through the door. “Just to keep you out of trouble while Sergeant Graff is here. You don’t know what they will do if–”

At the sound of his name I snap. “No, you’re the one who doesn’t know.”

I’m in her face, but she doesn’t back down. “Whether you believe it or not, it’s for your own good.”

“I’m beginning to think you’re the last person who knows what’s good for me.”

“Meda, you snuck out last night. And then, I get hauled out of the infirmary to hear that you attacked Isaiah.”

“I didn’t
attack
him. I
punched
him. If you ever see me attack a classmate, believe me you’ll know the difference,” I growl dangerously.

“Are you threatening me?” She sounds more pissed than worried. “I’m your friend!” she shouts in a very unfriendly manner.

“Really?” I shout back. “‘
Friends
don’t lock each other up.”

“Yeah, well, friends don’t break their promises, either. You promised me you’d be good. What happened to that? It lasted what – five hours? Six?” The shrink ray is back, but I am impervious – my rage is a shield.

“He deserved it.”

“Why, Meda? What did he say that was so horrible that it was worth breaking your word to me?”

It’d serve her right if I told her the whole school thinks she’s blackmailing Chi with sex, that everyone believes she’s going to get him killed with her incompetence. I open my mouth to say it, but the words fizzle and die on my tongue. Dammit.

“Nothing? You have nothing to say?” she demands.

I clamp my mouth shut before I say something I’ll regret, then switch tracks. “What can I say? I’m a fighter, not a lover,” I jeer. Then I say pointedly, “I used to think you, of all people, would understand. But what can I expect from a girl defeated by a rope climb?”

Jo looks slapped.

“Meda!” Until now Chi had hung back, but at my attack he takes a step around Jo. “That’s not fair. She–” Jo puts an arm up and stops him. He turns to her, “Jo, this is insane. You need to tell her.”

Jo answers without taking her eyes off me, her face stony. “No, Chi. Let her think what she wants.”

“Oh, so I’m still allowed to think without your permission? I didn’t know.”

Her voice is rock hard when she continues. “I don’t care what you think – only what you do. And you aren’t going to sneak out anymore. The door’s spelled, so don’t think you can break your way out. Headmaster gave me a key, so I can let you out–”

“Like I’m some kind of dog,” I sneer.

She continues as if I haven’t spoken. “–in the mornings without anyone noticing. We’ll say the lock is yours, to keep any of your enemies from messing with you or your stuff.”

I snort. “Great, so now I need protection from pathetic children.” Then I get an idea, a horrible one. “How long have you been planning this?” I knew she suspected I was up to something before she caught me sneaking out. “The movie. It was an excuse to keep an eye on me until they added the lock, wasn’t it?”

I don’t need her to answer, the guilt is written all over her face.

“Get out,” I snarl.

“Meda, it’s for your–”

I leap forward. Chi again moves to jump between us, but Jo stops him with an upraised arm. I stop inches from her face. “I swear that if you say it’s for my own good one more time, I will rip your fucking head off.” We hold each other’s eyes. “And
that’s
a promise to you I’ll keep.”

Her lips tighten, but she doesn’t drop her gaze.

“Meda,” Chi says, his voice calm and even. “Jo’s your friend.”

I snarl at him then turn away. “Get out!” They don’t move for a long moment, then I hear shuffling steps towards the door. When they reach it, they stop.

The door opens. “Meda,” Jo says softly.

“Get. Out.” I bite off each word as if it were her head. The door closes.

I hold my breath, waiting to see if she turns the key turn in the lock. There’s a long pause and my heart lifts a tiny bit. But then the lock slams home and my heart comes crashing down.

Hope, like Jo, is a sneaky bitch. I slam my hands against the wall I share with her and let out a snarl. I pound it a few more times, making divots in the brick, sending little bits crumbling down.

Jo.
My first and only friend. But she’s not really my friend. She can’t forgive me for being what I am. She tried, but she doesn’t like me for me. She wants to change me. Like my mother did.

See how that worked out for
her
.

Jo wants me to be someone else. Someone who kisses ass and follows rules – a tamed tiger who sits and purrs until she shouts “attack” at her enemies. But I am not a pet.

And I won’t be locked in a cage.

My hands tighten on the wall, my fingers bearing down, turning brick to dust. The idea of breaking through this wall flirts with my self-control. A minute stretches, filled with the soft rain of brick dust on wood floors.

Freedom, freedom, freedom,
my heart beats.

She can’t leave.
The Sarge’s words again.

A
tap, tap, tap
from behind me cuts into my thoughts. Jo, no doubt. Trying to explain again. Or get the last word, more likely. I don’t respond.

Tap, tap, tap,
the sound comes again.

“What?” I snarl, spinning. But no one answers and there’s no key in the lock. Instead, again I hear the tapping. But the noise isn’t coming from the door – it’s coming from the window. I turn again, squinting into the striped darkness, dark bars against a dark night. But there’s more than darkness, there’s a person’s shape.

Someone’s hanging from the bars. Grinning.

Chapter 12

Armand.
I do nothing but stare stupidly for a minute.

Tap, tap, tap.
He makes a motion for me to open the window. He’s dressed in a fitted black top and his hair is messily shoved behind his ears. Each of his hands wraps around a rusty metal bar outside my window and his biceps flex from the effort of holding himself up.

I shouldn’t open the window. Jo wouldn’t like it.

Whack
. Up goes the window.

“Good evening,
Mademoiselle
Melange,” he says, emphasizing his French accent.

“What are you doing here?” I hiss.

“I followed you.” He’s completely unrepentant. “It took a while to get past the guards, even with your excellent example.”

Huh, yeah, that probably wasn’t too clever of me. As much as I hate the Crusaders right now, they’re better than the demons. For starters, the demons
do
believe in recreational torture. How could I have been so stupid?

“But
why
?”

He looks startled by my question. “I would think that would be obvious.” He drops his eyelids seductively.
To see you
, they say. But his mouth responds, “To destroy the Crusaders, of course.” Then he grins cheekily.

It almost makes me laugh. It’s funny because it’s probably true. It’s not funny for the same reason.

“Get out of here, before I call the Crusaders on you.”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. I’m on vacation, remember?”

“I remember that you
said
you’re on vacation,” I snap. Despite our fun with Colton, I don’t trust him any further than I can throw him. Less, actually; he’s lean – I’d probably have pretty good range.

He looks hurt. “Don’t you trust me?”

I let my expression answer.

He pouts, a look that shouldn’t look so appealing on a teenage boy. When he gets no reaction, his smile slides back. He shrugs, and since he’s holding himself up on the bars, the movement ends up bouncing the rest of him as his arms stay stable. “Fair enough,” he admits. “But, I’d like to point out that I can’t trust you either and I’m on your turf. You could call an army down on me like
that
.” He releases one hand from the bars to snap his fingers, and swings wildly. He scrambles to grab it again and pull himself back up. “So,” he says with a slight grunt, as he re-settles himself against the bars, “it seems to me, of the two of us, I’m risking more for us to be together.”

I make a face at the way he says “for us to be together”, and cross my arms, unconvinced.

He lets out a puff of air, slightly exasperated. “If I were here to kill Crusaders, first, I’d have traded your location to my boss in order to get his forgiveness for my little disappearing act. Then, I would have snuck an army of demons through those woods with me.” He tosses a look back at the woods behind him. “We would infiltrate the school, and take the children hostage, then trade them for adults.” A darkness creeps into his expression, and a sharpness. Like a hound on the scent. My heart beats a little faster in response. He pulls himself closer to the bars, until his face is pressed against them. “The Crusaders aren’t big on negotiating, but I doubt they’d be able to hold out if we had a few dozen children. Once we had the adults, we’d slaughter them. Then the children would be unprotected.” His mood shifts suddenly and his lips quirk in a little smile, breaking the spell. “I’ll tell you what I would not have done – stopped to tell the infamous Meda Melange what I was planning.”

That
would
be the height of stupidity. On the other hand, I’ve learned never to underestimate people’s capacity for stupidity. They always manage to surprise me. “Then what are you here for?”

“I’m bored,” he complains. “I’ve been on my own for months now.”

“Go find one of your demon-buddies.”

“Can’t. They’d turn me in.”

“Some friends,” I say, but I know the feeling.

He shrugs again and his eyes twinkle mischievously. “You can never trust demons.”

“Yeah, well, I kinda already guessed that, them being the embodiment of evil and all.”

He laughs. “Come, Meda! Come out and play!” He swings from the bars again. “I promise I have no armies stashed in the woods.” His energy is infectious. The way he smiles and laughs and swings from barred windows like he hasn’t a care in the world. He even moves with a gleeful giddiness that is hard to resist. But I don’t have a choice.

“I’m not in the mood,” I lie, not wanting to admit I’m locked in.

Jo
locked me in.

“Not for anything?” he asks plaintively. “You haven’t even heard my suggestion, yet.” His eyes are full of naughty promises.

But the reminder of Jo’s betrayal kills any kindness I was feeling. And, despite his claims to innocence, well, as he said, you can never trust demons. I should turn him in before we’re caught and they accuse me of being in league with him. I shudder at what the Crusaders would do then. “You know, now that you mention it, there is something I’m in the mood for.” I cup my hands around my mouth, making it obvious I’m about to shout for the Crusaders.

Armand remains unconcerned. Foolish boy, I’m not one to play chicken with even when I’m in the best of moods. And I’m most definitely not in the best of moods.

I shrug and take a deep breath. I open my mouth and–

He whisks something out of his pocket and holds it up to the window. It gleams dully in the light from my bedside lamp.

The key.

I swallow my shout so hard I choke on it. I bend over, coughing and wheezing.

He grins at my discomfort. “I’m sorry, Meda? You were saying?”

I cough and point.

“Something about what you were in the mood for? Involving me?” His tone is all innocent suggestion.

“Is that what I think it is?” I gasp.

He looks at the key in his hand, as if considering. “Oh, I don’t know.” He slides a look at me, his teeth white in the dark. “But I suspect it’s the key to your heart.”

“Where did you get it?”

“I had some time to kill, waiting for you to come back to your room. I may have managed to sneak a copy.”

“You’ve been hanging around all afternoon?” How is it possible that I didn’t know? I would have felt the bump of power if he’d been anywhere nearby.

I should feel it now, actually.

Something’s not right. I drop to a crouch, bending so my legs are springs, and glare at him.

His eyes widen. “Hold on, calm down.” He scrambles for something around his neck, swinging again as he let go of the bars with one arm. He grabs an amulet hanging from his neck and pulls it off. There’s a familiar swell of power under my skin, electrifying my nerve endings. I barely catch myself from sighing at the pure pleasure born of the power boost. “I’m hiding from demons,” he explains. “It’d be inconvenient if they could sense me every time I walked past one.”

“You didn’t have it last time,” I accuse.

“I did, I just didn’t wear it. I told you I was planning to turn myself in.” He grins. “But instead I found you.”

He did say that.

“Come on, please?” He wears a pleading look as well as any big-eyed puppy. It’s tempting, so tempting. To beat the Crusaders, to slip their cage. The wake of my earlier rage leaves me feeling reckless, dangerous. Rebellious.

“Don’t you trust me?” Armand tries to look angelic, and the expression so ill-fits his face it makes me laugh.

“No.”

My response only makes him laugh. “Don’t say the Great Meda Melange, Destroyer of Demons is scared to be alone with a measly little half-demon?” He tries to look harmless. He succeeds, because he is. I can handle Armand.

What
am
I worried about? And it hits me. I’m still worried what Jo would think. But on that front it seems like I no longer have anything to lose.

“Come on, Meda, it’ll be fun.”

“I can’t. I’m not allowed,” I say, but it’s automatic.

“Aww, but that just makes it better. Fun is so much better when it’s stolen.”

My eyes snap to his. I shouldn’t. It could be a demon trap. Or, even if it’s not, if the Crusaders catch me sneaking around with the enemy, we’re dead. It’s risky, reckless, and wrong.

And yet, my mouth bends in a smile. “What did you have in mind?”

He grins. “Whatever you want.” We lock eyes for a moment longer, then he breaks it. “Hold on,” he says, then walks his hands up the bars. I get an eyeful of tight tee over tighter abs, as he hauls himself onto the roof.

I wait as he sneaks in to let me out of my prison. I start to have second thoughts, nibbling, nagging thoughts that buzz around with the Good bees. This isn’t smart.

But then I hear the snap of the lock, and it startles the bees away. Armand eases open the door and holds out his hand. “Come on,” he whispers.

I hesitate.

“We won’t do anything bad,” he say piously. “I promise.”

I slide my hand into his. My hand appears deceptively small encased by his large one, but I know I could crush his bones with a squeeze if I wanted to. I don’t. Not now, at least, but the reminder that I can solidifies my intent. I look back up at him and he’s watching the thoughts play across my face with a smothered smile.

His smile escapes, spreading full across his face. “But we won’t do anything good, either.”

Good. I’m awfully tired of
good
.