Book of Revenge (12 page)

I turned to Emily.
“The bakery?”
I mouthed.

Emily shrugged.

Sierra put her hands on her hips, her attention turning back to me. “Yeah. The
bakery.
Do you have an issue with that?” she snapped, her animal teeth flashing with a snarl. Her sweet demeanor changed in an instant, and I retracted my previous calculations.

I felt Emily’s hand on mine, her nails digging into my skin.

“Calm down, Sierra.” Jake intervened. “They’re new here.” He turned to us. “Sierra likes to bake, but she’s a little bitter about the fact that she can’t really eat most of it.”

Annoyed by Jake’s excuse, Sierra threw the plate at him.

He caught it before it tipped over, the plastic holding whatever it was tight. “Except these.” Jake looked down at the food in his hands, as did Emily and I. “Blood pies,” he explained.

Emily released the grip on my hand. “Is she your real sister?” Half moon shapes were pressed into my skin where her fingernails once rested.

Jake nodded. “In this case she is, though often they’re not. We were orphaned together. In a situation like that, it’s law to convert both or none at all.”

Jake propped his legs on the table before us and put one hand behind his head. “She doesn’t want to. All she wants to do is play Betty Crocker. She’s really good at it, too. She owns the bakery in town. I’ll have to take you there sometime.”

“Perhaps a day she
isn’t
working,” Emily whispered under her breath, enough that the three of us heard it, but not enough that Sierra would. We all laughed.

Emily shifted away from me a little, feeling more comfortable as I did as well. The truth was, this wasn’t really so bad.

Max:

I winced, a sharp pain digging into my arm. It felt like nails were ripping into my skin, matching the pain I’d felt across my chin a few days ago.

“What’s wrong?” Jane took a sip of her soda as we sat at Vicco’s, enjoying our afternoon feast—or at least she was; I’d already grown tired of the food.

“Nothing.” I fixed my jaw, trying not to show the pain I felt.

Jane plumped out her bottom lip. She turned back to her burger, her appetite changed as she felt my anxiety pull through her. She dropped it into her lap, the foil crunching. She knew better than to believe me.

This sudden pain was happening a lot more than normal. It was something I’d grown used to over the years, but it had never meant as much as it did now. I had something to live for for the first time in my second life, and Greg was becoming a liability to me. His enemies were in turn my predators. Too many people wanted him dead, meaning too many people could also kill me. Never before had the need to separate myself from him been stronger. I had to be here for Jane no matter what. It was my duty, my job, and not to mention, my desire.

What I needed to do was growing obvious, and what I needed was the Priory. They could help separate me from Greg. They could help me stay with Jane, maybe even in the way she wants. I needed them now more than ever and they would undoubtedly come through. For so long, they had been like a family, and family never turned their backs when asked for help, just as I would help Greg if he ever decided to come around. My stomach grumbled, the food now feeling like a rock.

I’d avoided Winter Wood for long enough, and though the memories of that place stung, they would welcome me home as though nothing had ever happened. They accepted anyone willing to join their vendetta against the Black Angels, regardless. Facing the Crown could not possibly be as difficult as I’ve manifested it to be. The Crown is a man of business; our personal history would remain a moot point—I hoped.

I glanced at Jane, thinking of Avery once again. Avery had been my attempt to fit in with their world and accept my fate. Jane had been my reason to leave it, and find purpose within my seemingly endless life. Jane’s youthful fears of growing old had begun to infect me with uncertainty. How long would I get to keep her? How long before her death would leave me empty handed once more? I forced back such thoughts, reminding myself that in the end, I would choose death to be with her. We were meant to be together, and so we would be together after our death—no matter what the cost.

Jane signed, rubbing her stomach. “So much for dinner. I think this is kind of it for me.” She sighed tiredly.

I grinned, wrapping up the rest of my mostly uneaten burger and putting it back in the bag. “Want to walk it off?”

Her head was resting back against the seat. She rolled it to face me. “Where? I’m not in the mood for tourists today.” She crinkled her nose.

Her smile sank to a concerned frown. “I really want to go, but I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said about having not been there in a long time. Will they mind you coming for a visit? I mean, I don’t really know what it’s going to be like. Is it…
cultish?
Will they have to capture you and probe your mind for secrets, or…?”

I threw my head back and laughed whole-heartedly, feeling her emotion seep from the tips of my fingers to my head, filling it with lucid hope and happiness. “It’s not a
cult
, Jane. It’s just a town for people like us. We can get the things we need there: potions, special foods, and safe lodging. It’s a bit touristy, but not as touristy as here.”

She giggled. “You make it sound like a hybrid version of Vail, Colorado.”

I pressed my lips together and tilted my head. “That’s pretty much what it’s like. It looks the same, at least on the surface. Everyone pretends their local, though they’re not. It’s a vacation spot for some, others it’s their home.”

Jane had a million questions streaming through her head. “How many people—or rather
beings
—are there?”

I shrugged. “Probably close to ten thousand permanent magickal residents, being that it’s the capital.”

Jane’s eyes grew wide. “Wow, and I thought I was special, one of the few people like me in the area.”

I touched her chin, tilting her head to face me. “You are.” I leaned forward, bringing her lips to mine, my hand trailing back and hooking behind her neck. I touched her softly, sending a ripple of desire across her skin.

She moaned gently. “That’s nice.”

I smiled against her lips, breathing in the smell of tea leaf and rose. There was the ever-increasing tug to give in, even in such a location and time as this. Leaning back, I forced myself to start the car instead. “Time for a walk.”

She frowned, but it was quickly replaced with her excitement for Winter Wood—my home.

Emily:

I looked across the coffee table at Jake, listening to the thoughts he was leaving open for me to hear. He was nothing but friendly, nothing but genuine. Lingering views of him flashed across my mind: Him as a child, the fact that I’d never once met his parents, and the way he was always just sort of
there
, but not at the same time. Was this kid I once knew really the kid I saw now?

Jake’s silvery green eyes looked at me then, a small smile curving his upper lip. He slowly glanced away. “So, shall we get to business?”

Wes let out a contented sigh, his thoughts edging on acceptance. I nodded delicately. This was nice. Having Jane and Max within our circle of magick was good, but it was good to have more—less
related
—friends as well. Once Wes got past the initial jealousy, I was certain they’d get along. How couldn’t they?

“Teach me how to block some stuff, and stuff.” Wes’s voice was dramatically exasperated, and lacking the finesse I wished he had.

I gave him a playful slap on the arm. “Be a little more
exact
, why don’t you. Not to mention the fact that you’re making it sound like being with me is exhausting.”

Wes narrowed his eyes, knowing it was a jealous retort. “No, Emily. You’ve got to see it from my angle. I can’t think about anything, not even the fact that I have to use the toilet! I’d gross you out, so I force myself to think of other things.”

I crossed my hands against my chest. “Yeah, I know. Like baseball, homework and weather, right?” I challenged him with a lifted brow.

Wes turned to Jake. “See what I mean? She’s incorrigible!” He was talking as though I was no longer in the room.

Jake laughed. “Okay, chill out. I’m not here to play therapist, just to teach you a few tricks, got it?”

Wes nodded bitterly.
Was I really so bad?
Was I really such a burden on him?
I grunted and shook my head.

You’d think he’d see the bright side!
Jake internally sympathized with me.

I know!
I replied.

Jake collected himself and turned his attention toward Wes. He took a deep breath and proceeded to explain how the mind worked, showing us that there were places, like rooms, where you could keep your thoughts. He spoke of it like a mansion, each room holding a different thought, while the main room held public thoughts. This was something that seemed so natural to me, as though I should have known it all along. I picked it up fast.

“What about the kitchen?” Wes joked.

Jake played along. “Public domain.”

I grinned, enjoying their camaraderie, enjoying the fact that Wes was learning something that made our relationship stronger. Wes grasped my hand, his touch restrained though I knew that with the slightest squeeze, he could break every bone.

Jake finally stopped talking when the room grew dark with the coming twilight. He sighed deeply, stretching his arms. “Feels so much better when the sun goes down.”

Wes was visibly more comfortable as well. “So, do you sleep in a coffin in the basement?” he teased.

Jake gave Wes a reproachful glare. “I don’t sleep at all, actually. Up all night, all day. The daylight tires me, but only because my eyes have to work extra hard. It’s sort of like staring into a flashlight, except its all day. That’s why I like to go to Glenwood High, the halls are dark.”

I laughed. “You can say that again. That place is like a cave. I swear the teachers are trying to make us to fall asleep so they can all retreat to the teacher’s lounge for coffee instead.”

“So you never sleep?” Wes scratched his head, pulling the conversation back. “How does that work?”

Jake shrugged. “I guess I don’t have to. The disease makes sleeping uncomfortable and hot, and when night comes, I just don’t feel like it. Daytime makes me too anxious to sleep because I feel vulnerable, and that edge of sleep never really comes. I can’t even remember what it was like to sleep. I was too young.” Jake grasped his stomach. “But it does make me hungry to be this lucid for so many hours.”

I couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit unnerved by his comment. Jake looked at me, delighted by the way I’d reacted. His gaze lingered as it had before, longer than it should, and I found myself seeing something that I probably shouldn’t have. A thin, blue veil of thought hung like a curtain behind his green eyes. It was seemingly hidden, but as the room had grown dark, the intensity of it had matured. Scanning Wes’s thoughts, he didn’t seem to notice it. It was my veil. A glowing emotion made just for me, warm, inviting, and happy.

Jake’s mind offered me no explanation for its existence. I wondered what it meant as I clung to it, wanting to feel it pulse through me. When Jake finally looked away the blue, veiled light faded, leaving me with an unwanted chill and unexplainable anger. A ripple ran down my spine in its absence, my mouth parched of the sweet taste it once offered.

Wes sat back against the cushion and the couch bounced, jostling me out of my own head. He sympathized with Jake. “I’m hungry, too. Do they have restaurants here? Or more specifically, do they have restaurants serving your… um…
faire
, as well as mine?”

Jake’s teeth flashed as he nodded. “Of course. What kind of food are you looking for?”

I saw Wes plump out his bottom lip, tasting the desire that sat on his tongue. “Meat.”

Jake nodded along with Wes, as men do when they agree on something wonderful—something purely masculine like quenching the endless male craving for danger.

Jake swooned. “
Me too.
You’re like the brother I never had.”

I snorted, shaking my head, somehow feeling like the third wheel in this blooming
bro-
mance.

They both looked at me, their eyes like bullets. Jake’s warm, veiled light washed over me once more, filling my stomach with all the nourishment it desired.