Book of Revenge (21 page)

The lingering students stared, finding us the most entertaining thing they’d likely seen all day. Clearly, they were unaware of what was going on inside Wes’s car. Navia sauntered around the hood, teasing them. I felt my cheeks flush from the attention, but Navia seemed to enjoy it—or rather expect it. Boys were drooling, even boys whose girlfriends were grappling their arms—
shameless!

“You’re going to have to indulge me with every detail of this little boy problem you’re having.” She got in on her side and leaned toward me, acting as though we’d been life-long best friends.

“
Umm…”
I wasn’t one to discuss my personal life, especially with someone I’d just met.

Wes:

A tapping noise woke me from my sleep. My eyelids were heavy as I forced them open. I turned over, my body lethargic and my mind wondering if I’d really heard the noise or not. Dim grey morning moonlight streamed through the blinds, shining stripes across my bedspread. Monday had already arrived. Emily had not stayed the night, too frazzled by what had happened on Friday to stay any night this weekend. I blamed it on the fact that she was afraid to put herself in range of another Friday car adventure. I heard the tapping for a second time, the shadowed stripes beginning to move.

I sat up, stretching my feet and sliding out of bed. I walked to the window, the tapping so soft, that it didn’t post any alarm. I pulled the blinds, seeing Stella perched on the tiny ledge outside.

I cracked the lock and opened the window an inch so she could hear me. “Really, Stella, when are you going to get over this?”

She tilted her head as though she understood, though I was certain she didn’t.

“Do you know what you made me miss on Friday? Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting for her to be ready for that?” I placed my palm against the window. Stella leaned alongside it, her feathers smashed against the glass and fanning out in an array of brown and white colors. “Clearly you don’t.” I smiled and clicked my tongue, thinking that if she were a cat, she’d be purring.

At least she cared enough to be here with me right now. At least she wasn’t playing hard to get. I heard a snap then. Stella jumped and leaned away. She twisted her head skyward, her eyes wide and her pupils opening to the moonlight.

I pressed my brows together, trying to look where she was but inhibited by the glass. Stella chortled, bustling her feet on the sill. The moonlight shifted, casting a shadow on Emily’s house across the alley, a swift shadow that flew across the siding and landed on the roof. From there, the shadow fluttered and moved again, growing as it descended downward. The look in Stella’s eyes became ever more anxious, but it wasn’t a fearful anxiety.

I stepped back as the shadow breached the sill, and as though it were a shadow itself, another, dark auburn owl, landed gracefully beside Stella. I hid there in the darkness of my room, not wanting this new creature to see me. I wanted to know what it was first, if anything at all.

Stella nipped at it, chortling loudly. The second owl simply leaned away from her, almost expecting her crude advance. Staring Stella down, this new owl seemed to have control over her in a way that looked like ownership. Stella cowered as the owl at last lashed out against Stella’s rude hello, nipping her neck and nearly drawing blood.

Impulsively, I left the safety of the shadows and tapped on the window. “Hey! Leave her alone.” If there was one thing I hated, it was those that preyed on the weak.

The new owl jumped, startled by my sudden appearance. It had surprised eyes, and not eyes like Stella’s, but
human
eyes. We both stood guardedly for a moment, staring, judging.

“
Who are you?”
I demanded.

The owl blinked a few times, and then looked at Stella. Stella was combing her feathers with her beak, no longer trying to battle for hierarchy, or caring. Did Stella really know this owl?

Having opened the window enough to talk with Stella before, I reached forward and slammed the window shut for good measure, making sure to lock it. Stella stopped grooming, looking angered by my action. The other owl tapped the window then, abruptly—almost frantic.

I shook my head. “No way am I letting you in,” I whispered.

The owl stopped tapping, looking back at Stella. Stella chortled and nipped, but seemed to give into whatever the new owl was telling it. Stella then turned and tapped the window with as much fervor as the other owl had, as though her persuasion could sway me. I shook my head, balling my fists at my sides.

“I said
no.”

Stella only tapped louder, and I began to worry that she’d wake Gladys. I elevated my hands toward the window, palms open. Stella stopped.
“
Shhhh
…”
I then brought one finger to my lips.

They both challenged me with a final tap.

My shoulders sank in defeat. Reluctantly, I unlocked the clasp and slid the window open, but only a few inches. “I’m warning you. I can kill you in a second.”

Both owls simply stared.

I thrust the window open all the way. Stella hopped in and onto the floor, nuzzling against my leg before continuing past me. I wanted to laugh, but my attention was far too preoccupied by the auburn owl that remained on the ledge. It waited there, its head and body frozen.

“Come in?” I ventured.

The owl understood, finally dropping from the ledge and into the room. I shut the window behind it, my gaze fixed on its back, readying myself to change into the lion if need be. Walking toward my desk, I quelled a shiver as the cold air from outside invaded the warmth of the room. Grabbing a sweatshirt off the chair, I sat down in its place.

The new owl turned, looking me up and down—continuously drinking me in. My gaze was speculative, every fiber of my body readied for whatever might come. Dull tinkering noises materialized from the corner of the room where Stella was tugging at my belongings. In my periferal gaze, she took a few and began carrying them onto the bed, clumsily traipsing them across the crumpled comforter until she found a suitable place to nest. All the while the other owl and I intently locked direct gazes. Stella then smelled the pillow beside her, the one Emily used when she stayed with me. Her feathers fluffed and she cooed angrily.

I wanted to laugh but I waited instead, hoping the auburn owl would make the first move. Another five minutes passed and I grew impatient, Stella now wrapped in her nest and resting. Finally caving, I made the first move.

“Who are you? What do you want?” I demanded.

I’d never met another shifter, but the human glimmer in this owl’s golden eyes was unmistakable. Stella’s eyes were flecked with wild color where these ones were smooth like mine. I sighed and slouched down, and as I did so, the owl finally broke and hopped toward the bed.

I perked up again, a renewed sense of interest toward what the owl was doing. My hand gripped the edge of the chair, biting my lip against the desire to attack. The owl sank its head under the edge of the comforter, its body changing in one fluid motion and filling the draped fabric until a head of auburn, human hair peeked out the other end.

Though I saw it coming, surprise still swept through me. I was now looking at a girl no older than Emily. Her body was completely wrapped in my blankets, her nimble hands squeezing it tightly around her. Her sudden scent was undoubtedly wild, but not at all threatening. She was plain, her eyes sharp and round, much as the owl’s had been. Various shades of auburn streaked her hair, matching the feathers she once had.

Her expression was shock. “Holy
cow,”
she murmured, turning to Stella. “Missy, you were right. I just…” her voice trailed, a small hand surfacing from the blanket and covering her mouth. Her nails were dirty, her hands scarred and pale.

“Missy?” I snorted. “Her name is
Stella.”

The girl didn’t seem to care, too taken by me. “I thought you…”

I tilted my head, confused. “Thought what?”

“You’re supposed to be
dead.”
She was nodding, eyes wide.

I cocked my head back, face crinkled.
“Dead?”
I elevated my hands. “Clearly I’m not dead.” Palms sweating, I stood, trying to establish my hierarchy. “Who are you?” I demanded a second time.

She cleared her throat, grinning. “Who am
I
?” She seemed surprised by my question. “You don’t know?” She turned her head from side to side.

“No.” I stated plainly.

Her expression turned to disappointment. She sighed. “They must not have told you.” Her lips pressed together.
“Figures.”

“Who?” I thought of the only people I even knew. “Gladys? Max?”

“Gladys.” She nodded and sighed long and hard. “Well, I guess I could see why. She probably figured I was dead as well.”

I was growing impatient, her answers giving me little information. “Okay, seriously, girl. Who are you? I don’t think my girlfriend will like the fact I have a naked girl curled into my sheets.”

“
Stop!”
I hissed.

She calmed herself. “You’ve got it all wrong, Cowboy. I’m not all too excited to be wrapped in your sheets, either.” Her eyes rolled. “So don’t flatter yourself.” She snorted.

I was pacing now.

She leaned back. “It’s not like I have any other choice.” She motioned around the room, pointing out the piles of clothing both clean and dirty. “It was either the comforter, which I can only
hope
Gladys cleans regularly, or the clothes, which I think you likely never clean—you’re a boy.”

I felt my anger build. “Okay… so? And you
are?”
I forced through clenched teeth. She was getting sidetracked, and it was bothering me.

She rolled her eyes and let out a long, dramatic sigh. “I’m your sister, idiot.” Her tone was cheeky, as though I should have known this, as though it were common knowledge.

I tried to pretend I hadn’t heard what she said as I reeled backward. “Wait,
what?”

“Your sister. Blood relative… Mom and Dad’s other kid… what other way can I put it?” She pulled my comforter up to her chin, looking scared by the look of shock on my face.

“
Sister?”
I gaped at this auburn-haired stranger lumped up on my bed. Her dislike toward the fact she was naked in my sheets now made sense. It was a little disturbing in retrospect.

“Little sister,” she corrected. “Lacy.”

“
Little sister?”
I repeated, trying to let it sink in. “How?”

She shook her head. “Do I really have to get into the details of the birds and bees with you?”

Discomfort replaced my confusion. “What?
No…
That’s not what I meant.” I frowned.

Her smart-alecky attitude seemed appeased by my reaction. “Mom and dad had me a few years after you. By then they’d found a safe place to live, so they kept me,” she said sheepishly. “I know they wanted to come back for you, but by the time it came time to do so, you had already adapted to this life. They were afraid it would upset you.” She bit her lip in thought. “Truthfully, I suppose they figured you’d be safe here. Trust me…” She looked around the room, looking impressed despite the mess. “You’ve got it a lot better than I ever did.”

I was plainly staring at her, the things she was saying like a dream—a
bad
dream.

She went on. “I honestly thought you were dead. I figured you’d learn about the fires and come looking for me, but you never did. Put two and two together… finito.”

What Max had told me about my parents death rushed back to me, but the details were clouded by the simple fact that I hadn’t really wanted to listen. “What fires, exactly?”

She rolled her eyes. “So you didn’t even know about the fires?” Her brows were pressed together, voice deep. “Gladys is stubborn. I’ll give her that.”

“Max told me something about Washington, and my parents being murdered. Beyond that, it all went up in the air,” I threw in with a shrug.

She nodded. “Yeah, somethin’ like that. Our parents did die, though I didn’t. We were one of the only flight families left, so escape was easy, but naturally our parents thought they could save everyone. They died while doing it.” She said it as though it were no big deal. “Freakin’ hippies. Out to save the world.”

I digressed. “Flight family? What do you mean?”

“Yeah, you know…
birds.”
Her voice was mocking in the same way mine often was. “Feathers. Beaks.Talons… dumb birds.”

“I’m not a
bird.”
I protested openly. “I’m more the large feline type.”

Lacy shook her head and snorted. “Well, you can forget about that. You’re destined to squawk, my brother.”

“But…” I frowned.

Lacy grunted. “Of all the things I just told you, the thing you care the most about is the fact that you’ll be a bird?” I saw that her eyes were wide, incredulous. “What the heck do they feed you around here?”

I drew in a deep breath. “Well, in my defense, I never knew our parents. They’ve always been dead to me. Why try to pretend I care?”

She looked stung.

“I’m sorry. But you’ve got to see my side of this.” I tapped my chest with my hand. “I’m a little shocked as it is. I’m just trying to take this in stride. Here I am, alone and liking it that way, and this owl,” I pointed at Stella, “came and decided to follow me around and then
‘poof!’
here comes a sister as well?”