Unforgiven (12 page)

Lilith felt herself blush. “It was a real crowd-pleaser,” she said darkly.

“Screw this school,” Jean said, shrugging. “I was clapping for you.” Then he motioned toward Luis. “The three of us should start a band. There's still time to sign up for prom—”

“I'm not going to prom,” Lilith said. She felt confused about a lot of things lately, but that was one truth she knew for certain.

Jean frowned. “But you have to. You're awesome.”

The compliment was so direct Lilith didn't know how to respond.

“I mean, whatever,” Jean said. “Skip the
prom
part of prom, bring a date or rock it solo, but at least show up for the battle. I have to go to the whole thing, because my insane girlfriend has been obsessing about this ‘cranberry satin maxidress' since our first date. See? She's texting me right now.”

He held up his phone. The lock screen displayed a photo of Kimi Grace, the sassy half-Korean, half-Mexican girl who sat next to Lilith in poetry. Lilith hadn't known she was with Jean—but now, she could totally see it.

In the photo, Kimi was beaming, holding up a piece of paper that read, in bubble letters,
E
LEVEN
D
AYS
T
ILL THE
B
EST
N
IGHT OF
O
UR
L
IVES.

“She's cute,” Lilith offered. “She's excited.”

“She's all kinds of crazy,” Jean said. “My point is, everyone makes such a big deal about how prom is this
epic
night. Well, it actually might exceed the hype if you showed up and played some epic music.”

Lilith rolled her eyes. “Nothing about Trumbull is ‘epic'…I promise.”

Jean wiggled one of his eyebrows. “Maybe not yet.” He patted Luis on the shoulder. The freshman threw his head back and shook some hair out of his face. “Luis here plays drums, not terribly.”

“Yeah,” Luis said. “What he said.”

“Luis,” Jean said. “You got a date to prom yet?”

“I'm weighing my options,” he said, turning red. “I know a couple senior girls who might invite me. But even if they don't, I'll be there to play. No doubt. I can totally drum.”

“See? He's dedicated,” Jean Rah said. “So, Luis on drums”—Jean rustled through the instruments in the closet and pulled out a black Moog synthesizer—“you singing and playing guitar. And I'll drop in on the synth. Sounds like a band to me.”

It did sound like a band. And Lilith had always dreamed of playing in one. But…

“Why are you hesitating?” Jean asked. “This is a slam dunk.”

Maybe Jean was right. Maybe it really was just a simple decision. Some kids. Some instruments. A band. She bit her lip so Jean wouldn't see her smiling.

“Okay,” she said. “Let's do it.”

“Sweet!” Luis shouted. “I mean…cool.”

“Yeah,” Jean said. “Cool. Now grab a guitar from the closet.”

Lilith followed his instructions, watching as Jean Rah placed the guitar on its stand, then pulled the stand next to the mic. He disappeared into the closet and came out with a brown card table. He set it up next to Lilith and sat the Moog keyboard on it.

“Try it,” he said.

She played a C on the keyboard with her left hand. Her guitar growled out a punchy C. Her fingers danced a quick ascending riff on the MIDI keys, and her guitar responded perfectly. “Cool, huh?” Jean said. “Keep the audience on their toes.”

“Yeah,” Lilith said, impressed with Jean Rah's musical ingenuity. “Definitely.”

“Hey, what's our band name?” Luis asked. “We're not really a band if we don't have a name.”

Lilith inhaled and said, “Revenge.”

She smiled, because all of a sudden, for the very first time, she was part of something bigger than herself.

“Radical.” Luis lifted his drumsticks, then slapped a snare drum as hard as he could.

The sound was still reverberating through the band room when the door swung open and Principal Tarkenton stepped inside. He was glowering. “My office, Lilith. Now.”

Hurrying into Tarkenton's office, Lilith's mom ignored her and gave the principal a hug. “I'm so sorry, Jim.”

Her mom had already been on campus, subbing for the French teacher, so she was in Tarkenton's office within minutes for the emergency parent-teacher conference.

“It's not your fault, Janet,” Tarkenton said, straightening his tie. “I've worked with enough bad seeds to know one when I see one.”

Lilith looked around the office. Tarkenton's walls were covered with photographs of him fishing in Crossroads's one dismal lake
.

“Your daughter started a fight with one of our most promising students,” Tarkenton said. “Fueled by jealousy, I imagine.”

“I heard.” Her mom adjusted the pink floral scarf tied tightly around her neck. “And Chloe's such a nice girl.”

Lilith stared at the ceiling and tried not to show how much it hurt that her mother never even considered standing up for her.

“And with Chloe's father being so influential in the town,” her mom continued, “I hope he won't pass judgment on the rest of my family. My Bruce doesn't need any more trouble, poor boy.”

If Bruce were there, he would have rolled his eyes. He'd been treated like a ghost his whole life by everyone except Lilith, and he hated it.

“Detention doesn't seem to be a deterrent to her,” Tarkenton went on. “But there is another option: a school for wayward students.” He slid a brochure across his desk. Lilith read the gothic-printed words
Sword & Cross Reform School.

“But what about prom?” Lilith asked. She had only just formed a band and hadn't even signed it up for prom yet—but she wanted to. More than she'd wanted anything in a long time. Maybe ever. She wished she had a mother who would understand that, a mother she could confide in about her fears and dreams. Instead she had Janet, who was still convinced Lilith had taken her stupid yellow cardigan.

“Since when are you going to prom?” her mom asked. “Did a boy ask you? Is it that boy I saw you talking to outside yesterday? The one who didn't even ring the bell to introduce himself?”

“Mom, please.” Lilith groaned. “It's not about a boy. It's about the Battle of the Bands. I want to play.”

Tarkenton glanced at the enrollment sheet for the battle on the corner of his desk. “Don't see you on here, Lilith.”

She grabbed the sheet and quickly wrote her new band's name. Now it was real. She stared at it and swallowed.

“Revenge?” Tarkenton snorted. “That sounds antiauthority.”

“I'm not—that's not what our band is about,” Lilith said. “Please, give me one more chance.”

All she wanted was the opportunity to play her music, to see the Four Horsemen, to stand on a stage and sing and, for a few minutes, forget her horrible life. Performing wasn't something she had even known she wanted before she'd bonded with Jean Rah and Luis, but now it was all she could think about.

After that, Tarkenton and her mom could do whatever they wanted with her.

As they discussed Lilith's future and potential disciplinary action, Lilith looked through Tarkenton's window at the parking lot, where Luc was walking toward a red Corvette parked close to the building. What was he doing here? He slid behind the wheel and revved the engine loudly.

“What is that?” Tarkenton said, and spun toward the sound.

“It's very loud,” her mom said, squinting. “Is that…a Corvette?”

Lilith eyed Luc with curiosity. Could he see her through the window?

“Who is that boy?” her mom asked. “He looks too old to be in high school. Do you know him, Lilith?”

Lilith glanced at her mother, wondering how to answer that question. When she looked back at the parking lot, Luc was gone, as though he'd never been there to begin with.

“No,” Lilith said, turning her attention back to the sign-up sheet on Tarkenton's desk. “Now can I please be in the battle?”

She watched as her mother and the principal exchanged glances. Then Tarkenton leaned back in his chair and said, “One more chance. But even the smallest screwup and you're done,” he continued. “You hear me?”

Lilith nodded. “Thank you.”

Her heart was pounding. She was officially a musician.

Approximately 1000 BCE

C
am had been watching the moon for hours, willing it to speed its path across the desert sky. Almost a day had passed since he'd said goodbye to Lilith at the carob tree. It had all seemed so charming when she was making the plans, inviting Cam to meet her again at the river in the moonlight, but to wait all these hours to see her was a new kind of torture.

It wasn't like Cam to let a mortal girl slow him down.

“Pathetic,” he muttered, unfurling his white wings and feeling a sense of freedom as they stretched toward the sky.

Who was he, Daniel Grigori?

He despised feeling bound to anyone or anything. But he couldn't seem to help himself when it came to Lilith. She made him want to stay.

Cam took to the sky, flying toward Lilith's village. He landed swiftly and folded his wings out of sight, ducking into a wine tent near the oasis, the last place he might find her. He was considering not keeping their date. He took a seat in a darkened corner, struck up a conversation with two local men, and shared the contents of their earthenware flagon.

By the time Cam and his new friends had drained the flagon, the moon hung low in the sky. He had expected to feel relieved—now there was nothing he could do. Lilith might forgive him, but she would never trust or fall in love with him now.

That was what he'd wanted, wasn't it?

In the morning, Lilith opened her eyes and sat up before memory stabbed her. Why had Cam agreed to meet her if he'd never planned to show up? Or had something happened that prevented him from coming? All she knew was that when the moon was in the center of the sky, she'd been there—and he hadn't.

The only thing to do was ask him, and the only place Lilith could think to look for Cam was at the well. Eventually, everyone in her tribe went there. She hummed as she followed the narrow, dusty path to the center of the village. The sky was clear, the grass was high against her fingertips, and the hot air pressed down on her shoulders.

Where the northbound path met the westbound path sat the village well. It was made of packed, baked mud, with a wooden basket that dipped down to its belly on a thick, coarse rope. The water came up cool and clean even on the hottest summer day.

Lilith was surprised to find two people she'd never seen before drawing the bucket up from the well: a wiry, ebony-haired girl with a wild gleam in her eye, and a dark-skinned boy playing a strange melody on a small bone flute.

“You must come from far away,” Lilith said, swaying to the flute's music. “I've never heard a song like that.”

“What's the farthest place you can think of?” the wiry girl asked, helping herself to a ladle of water.

Lilith eyed the girl. “I can think of worlds made only of music, where our heavy bodies would not survive.”

“A musician, eh?” The boy held the flute out to her. “See what you can make of this.”

Lilith took the flute and studied it, fingering the holes. She held it to her lips, closed her eyes, and blew.

An odd song seemed to play itself, as if a spirit were breathing through Lilith's lungs, moving her fingers. She was startled at first, but soon she relaxed into the melody, following its meandering path. When she had finished, she opened her eyes. The strangers gaped.

“I've never—” the girl said.

“I know,” the boy agreed.

“What?” Lilith said. “This is obviously a magic flute. Everyone who plays it must sound like that.”

“That's just it,” the girl said. “We've never met anyone but Roland here who can play that thing at all.”

Roland nodded. “You must have a great deal of soul.”

The girl put her arm around Lilith's shoulders and leaned against the well. “Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Arriane. We've been traveling for a long time.”

“My name is Lilith.”

“Lilith, have you happened to see a blond kid around here, a boy?” Roland asked. “Pretty new to these parts?”

“Kind of self-righteous and vain?” Arriane added.

“Dani?” Lilith said. She glanced toward the river in the east where she'd last seen him swimming. The carob trees swayed in the breeze, sending their sweet seeds scattering through the grass.

“That's him!” Arriane squealed. “Where can we find him?”

“Oh, he's around here someplace,” Lilith said. “Probably followed closely by Liat.”

Roland winced. “I really hope he's got a plan.”

Arriane punched Roland in the arm. “What he means is that we hope Dani is getting along—you know, prospering. In your midst, as it were. I need some water.” The girl dipped the ladle into the well and took another drink.

Lilith looked at the strangers and frowned. “Are you two…lovers?”

Arriane spat out her water in a great burst.

“Lovers?” Roland said, laughing as he hoisted himself up to sit on the lip of the well. “Why do you ask?”

Lilith sighed. “Because I need advice.”

Roland and Arriane exchanged glances.

“Tell you what,” Roland said. “You teach me how to play that song, and we'll see what we can do.”

Lilith's lyre lay on the bank next to the flute, which lay next to most of the clothes the three had been wearing when they met at the well.

They splashed in the Jordan River, floated on their backs, and watched the sunlight dance on the surface of the water. Music and conversation had done their magic, and the strangers were now friends. Lilith found it easy to divulge the painful incident of the night before.

“A guy like that,” Arriane said, before spitting a stream of water in a high arc. “Treat him like he doesn't exist. A wise woman knows better than to stop a bad man from disappearing.”

Roland let the current carry him closer to Lilith. “There are lots of other fish in the river. And you're a great catch. Might as well try to forget about him.”

“Wise,” Arriane said. “Very wise.”

Lilith watched the sunlight glint on Roland's shoulders and Arriane's face. She'd never met anyone like these two, except, maybe, for Cam.

Just then, something rustled on the bank. “Isn't it romantic?” asked a voice from the bushes.

Cam strode to the water's edge and frowned at Lilith. “Do you bring all your conquests here?”

“Wait,” Arriane said. “
This
is the boy you've been talking about?”

Lilith was simultaneously thrilled and crestfallen. “You know him?”

“This has nothing to do with you, Arriane,” Cam said.

“I thought we were discussing a young man of depth and complexity,” Arriane said. “Imagine my surprise to learn it's
you.
”

Cam scowled and dove into the river, his body arcing high in the air before it met the water. When he emerged, he was so close to Lilith that their faces were almost touching. She stared at the beads of water on his upper lip. She wanted to touch them. With her lips. She was angry with him, but that anger paled before the intensity of her attraction.

He took her hand. He kissed her palm. “I'm sorry about last night.”

“What kept you?” she asked quietly, though at the touch of his lips on her skin, she had already forgiven him.

“Nothing that will keep me again. I'll make it up to you, I promise.”

“How?” Lilith asked, breathless.

Cam smiled and looked around the river, then up at the brilliant blue sky. He smiled at his two friends, who were both shaking their heads. Then he smiled at Lilith, an alluring, complicated smile that drew her body against his underwater and told her in an unspoken language that her life would never be the same.

“A party.” Cam wrapped his arms around her and started twirling her in the water. The dizziness was so delightful Lilith couldn't help but laugh. “Say you'll come?”

“Yes,” Lilith said breathlessly. “I will.”

Arriane leaned into Roland. “This is not going to end well.”