Angels of Belle Meade

by Lindsey Iler

  A marking.

  “Garrison,” I say, hoping he’ll have seen it, too.

  “I see it, cousin,” he whispers.

  What this girl doesn’t know is this all has just begun. The fight has just started. I don’t know what the hell is going on, but that marking on her proves this all a lie.

  “Lennox, she’s not who you think she is.” My heartbeat thrashes in my ears.

  How can this be happening? It’s right there in front of Lennox. A marking only made by one family and one family only. Can she not see it?

  “Don’t listen to him, Lennox. I’ve been buried for nineteen years. Your father, your father is the one who made the deal,” the girl says, clutching her chest. “My name is Gemma. I am Mrs. And Mr. Saville’s biological daughter. I’m the third Angel.”

  Her words sound convincing. There is no tremor in her voice, no uncertainty in her words because they are true. Everything Gemma has said is true. Sometimes the truth is masked inside of a lie, hidden just deep enough for those who listen but cannot hear.

  Through squinted eyes, Lennox takes in Gemma’s full form and then twirls on me, her hands tight on her hips. She jerks her head toward the door. “You need to leave.”

  If I could, I’d rip Gemma’s head clear off her body. She has something on her side that I don’t. Bloodline will always trump anything else in our world, especially when the one asking for your trust hasn’t always been trustworthy. I’ve lost her.

  Perhaps I’ve never had her.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Lennox

  The outside world is dark. The wind breaks past the little glass intact in the window frame. The sky circulates like sand in a windstorm, twisting about freshly fallen leaves. Since Gemma escaped her own personal purgatory, the weather over Belle Meade has shifted. It’s like the heavens know something is right here amongst us.

  “What are we going to do?” Amilee whispers to me.

  Emerson is tucked in the far corner, her legs bent and folded close to her body. She shivers, and I hear small whimpers escape her. I have no way to fix this, to mend her broken heart. She may not be an Angel, but she’s ours. Nothing will change that.

  “Lennox,” Amilee whisper-yells to pull me back from the ledge I’m teetering on. “What are we going to do about the girl? You know, our childhood friend who’s been living underground? What exactly are we supposed to do?”

  “Nothing has to change,” I say, not believing my own words.

  A loud huff echoes through the room. “You don’t actually believe your own bullshit, do you, Lennox? Because look around”—Emerson stands and circles to take in the mess around the room—“everything is changing. I’m not who we thought I was. My family isn’t my family. The blood running through my veins isn’t what links me to you both. I’m a Blackstone. No worrying will change the facts.”

  “You belong with us.” Amilee jumps from her chair and engulfs Emerson in a tight hug. She waves me over, and I join them. We whisper promises we know we may not be able to keep.

  A sinister chuckle breaks the three of us apart. Gemma walks in, slowly clapping her hands, with an intent to wound. “This is sweet and everything, but—”

  “But what?” Amilee barks, cutting Gemma’s words off.

  “I think we have better ways to spend our time right now, other than doting over a girl who doesn’t belong with us.” The animosity radiating off Gemma is like stepping out into a hot summer day. It practically steals the air from your lungs, causing a struggle.

  “You may have the blood in your veins, but this girl”—I offer Emerson a sad smile—“she has the heart, Gemma. We’re on the same team. Don’t confuse bloodlines with loyalty.”

  “Fine,” Gemma huffs, sitting down. The wind whips her wet strands around her face. “Emerson, are you ready to turn your back on your blood? Because that’s what these girls are asking from you.”

  “These girls”—Emerson looms over Gemma—“are the only resemblance of family I have left, so yes, I’m ready to turn my back on my blood if it means these two don’t feel an ounce of pain.”

  “Huh!” Gemma squints. She tilts her head from side to side, inspecting Emerson. “I’m curious how your family will feel to hear that. The Blackstones, I mean. Hate to confuse you since, up until an hour ago, you believed you were a full-blooded Saville.” Her hateful smirk proves her sympathy only runs so deep.

  “You’re loving this, aren’t you, Gemma?” Emerson clutches Gemma’s wet hair, forcing our newest Angel’s head to the side. With a hard tug, Emerson forces Gemma to her feet and leads her to the windows, pushing her down to her knees.

  Gemma’s neck is inches from a sharpened piece of glass. It shines in the moonlight, mocking Amilee and me as we watch our best friend prepare to end one of our own’s life.

  “Emerson,” Amilee whispers.

  Emerson’s entire body quakes. Her eyes are wild as she shifts them toward us, desperate for our understanding. “Her being here has ruined everything.”

  “Why don’t we take a minute and think about this?” I hold up my hands, hoping my easy, slow movements will calm her.

  I inch toward Emerson, and she pushes down on Gemma’s neck. The glass jabs into her larynx, poking through the skin enough to produce a small amount of blood.

  “Are you going to do something, or just stand there?” Gemma bites out her words, struggling against Emerson’s strong hold.

  I squeeze my eyes shut, a dull ache shooting through my body. My knees buckle from the pain, and I reach for Amilee before crashing to the floor. My knees connect first. There’s no stopping the fall forward. I find myself face down, paralyzed, staring at Gemma’s smirk.

  What the fuck?

  A searing fire starts at my toes, encompassing my calves before making its way to my thighs. The flame ends at my fingertips. I wail in pain, hearing my voice for the first time in what feels like hours, though only minutes have passed.

  “Get Edric.” My words rip from my chest and scream for help. Dread sets in. The only thing that can bring a sense of relief, I’ve pushed away.

  “Lenny, your arm,” Emerson says.

  She releases Gemma, who falls to the ground and touches her neck. Blood covers the tips of her fingers, but the wound closes as I watch.

  At the mention of my arm, I glance down. The Peacekeeper mark pulses. The skin begins to rip as if something inside me is attempting an escape. I cover it with my hand and sit up, searching the room. My heart rattles in my chest, and my palms sweat from the unthinkable pain coursing through my body. I clench and bring them down on the floor to push myself up.

  When I stand, Amilee grabs my waist to steady me.

  “I need the stone.”

  She searches the area around us, but it’s nowhere to be found.

  “Fuck!” I shout, clenching my eyes shut.

  Much like the night in my bedroom, the lights begin to flicker, my pain too powerful a source of energy. I’m learning to control my talents. There is still too much to understand, but one day, it will all make sense. That’s at least what I’m telling myself to survive this pain.

  “Lennox,” Emerson whispers, but it’s not to grab my attention.

  It’s a warning.

  Amilee helps me turn, and we both suck in a deep breath of air.

  Gemma has an arm tight around Emerson’s neck.

  “What are you doing?” I ask through gritted teeth. They nearly crack under the pressure.

  “This wasn’t the plan, you have to know that.” Gemma grips the red stone in her right hand. “See, I was traded as an infant for one reason; for our families to gain power. The trifecta of wealth and power that surrounds the three of ours is astronomical. It’s endless.” Her maniacal laugh proves my worst nightmare. She isn’t with us, and if she isn’t with us, then she’s against us. “The Blackstones saw an opportunity, handed over their daughter, and promised a council of antiquated men endless possibilities. It’s why they put the stipulation on the excha
nge. They knew that one day, when the power became too much for one family, it would need to be switched back.”

  “There’s a point to this tale, right?” My chest heaves, and I lunge forward, desperate to get my hand on the stone.

  “Everything has its rightful place, Lennox.” She releases Emerson with a push. Amilee catches her before she hits her head on the table. “Don’t believe me? Why don’t you take a peek?”

  Her eyes dance wildly to my hand. I’ve used the power once, and even then, it took more concentration than I could begin to collect while I’m in this kind of pain.

  “I can’t,” I bite out.

  “Oh, sure you can.” Gemma nods. It’s not encouragement. She’s testing me, playing with my emotions. “You’d better, because you’re going to want to see this, and I’m dying to watch you when you do.”

  “Why are you doing this?” I beg.

  “My life was taken from me, Lennox. Don’t you get that? In the early days after they buried me, some old lady took care of my needs, but as I got older, the visits came further and further apart.” Gemma’s eyes are distant, remembering what it must have been like, a life of solitude, a prison underground. “So, when the Blackstones figured out where I was, they sent their sons to check on me. The youngest, Edric, is it? He’s quite the talent.” She wiggles her fingers, mocking me, toying with my emotions.

  I lunge forward, but she escapes my grasp.

  “Oh, come on now, Lennox. You didn’t actually believe you two could be together, did you?” Gemma clicks her tongue. “For one so smart, you’re a stupid girl. You’re the one, after all. You triggered all these events just by being you.” She nudges me. “Too beautiful for your own good. Allowing the devil into your bed. If only it could be different.”

  “What are you talking about?” I shake my head, confused by her words, and stunted by the pain weaving through my veins.

  “It was a test, Lennox. The council sent Edric to you for a reason. If you’d resisted him, then none of this would have happened. Sarah Beth would still be tucked away in bed, unharmed.” Gemma shrugs, forcing me to swallow the bile rising in my throat.

  “Where is my sister?” My breath snags on the weight of my chest.

  “Well, Lennox, why don’t we take a look, shall we?” Gemma lifts her hand. A familiar ball of color and wind whips above her open palm. Blues and grays fade to white and green, and when the colors disappear, a picture reveals itself.

  Sarah Beth is on a short box in front of Mr. Reynolds’ bookstore. Around her are lit candles in a wide circle. What shocks me is the person standing beside her.

  Edric.

  A guttural roar breaks loose from my chest.

  “You see what’s in his hand?” Gemma whispers in my ear.

  Her hot breath feels like flames against my skin, burning me, reminding me who’s in charge. I pull away, but she jerks me back.

  “I see it.” I swallow the lump in my throat.

  “That blade is going to slip across your sister’s neck, Lennox, and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.”

  Her prideful laugh slaps me across the face, or maybe she did smack me. I can’t really tell what’s happening right now. Everything is a blur. All I can think about is Sarah Beth. How scared she must be, all alone.

  “Take me to her,” I demand.

  “Oh, now, now, Lennox. You are in no place to be barking orders.” She pulls a knife from her pocket. “See that rope over there? I want you to tie her up.” Gemma glares at Emerson and jerks her head at Amilee.

  My best friends stare at me, and I nod, telling them it’s okay. If any of us want to escape this, we’ll need to play along and follow their rules.

  Once Amilee is tightly bound, Gemma drags me from the room. Emerson follows behind, worry etched in every line of her face. We both look back before the door slams with our best friend still inside.

  The walk is short, the air cool on our backs. Gemma’s hand is bound around my wrist. I’m yanked forward every few steps when she believes I’m moving too slowly. Someone should tell her I’m in no hurry to watch what they have planned for my baby sister. I’m not a spectator. There will never be a time when I sit back and let unlawful things to happen to me and the ones I love.

  “I won’t let this happen,” I whisper to the back of Gemma’s head.

  Her feet stall, and she twirls to face me. “You have no choice. You have no power.”

  “We’ll see.”

  Once Gemma’s attention is back in front of us, I glance over my shoulder to see Emerson walking calmly behind us. She’s unaffected, and still, somehow troubled.

  When we enter the main part of town, the candles flicker off the soft ivory of Sarah Beth’s cheeks. As we approach, I’m surprised to see my sister’s calm. She isn’t fighting. There doesn’t seem to be a single bruise on her skin. Why hasn’t she put up a fight?

  “Ahh, welcome, Lennox.” Mrs. Blackstone lurches from the shadows, wearing a long, black gown fit for a ball. The lace details shine to distract and deflect what’s really in front of me—a monster. “By the beautiful scowl on your face, I’d say you aren’t happy with tonight’s events.”

  “Let her go.” I lunge forward to get to my sister. Gemma stops me, laughing as if my efforts are pointless. “Where is Edric?” I wince, needing his touch to heal whatever plagues me, and to prove to my heart he isn’t going to do what the image has said he would.

  “I’m right here.” Edric strides from behind the church sign, looking every bit the part of sinister. His steps are methodical. Each one holds a purpose, to prove a point.

  “You played me.” The reality sets in deep in my heart. He was right. I allowed him in, gave everything over to him, shared all my weaknesses, and now they’ll be used against me.

  “Oh, you stupid, stupid girl.” He cackles, his head thrown back. His neck turns slowly. He glares at me through those thick eyelashes I once admired so much. “Did you actually think a Blackstone would give a bottom dweller like yourself the time of day? It was all to get you to this point. Our family has been the Peacekeeper for the last nineteen years. You don’t behold that kind of power and not want to hold onto it.”

  “So, what’s the plan?” I suck down the lump in my throat. “There must be a plan, right? A way for your family to stay in control?”

  “Mr. Reynolds was right. You were the perfect target. Too observant, too intuitive for your own good.” Edric walks to me, circling me once, and then again. His fingers dig into the skin on my chest as he passes.

  “Mr. Reynolds would never do anything to hurt us Angels,” I hiss, the pain centering in the middle of my chest.

  “Just like I wouldn’t, right, sweetheart?” He winks, dragging his fingers down my arm.

  “This whole time I thought you were a decent human being.” The ache in my forearm escalates, like a burning field, quick and unstoppable.

  “Honey, look around, not a single person within fifty feet is human. Grow up.” He loops around Sarah Beth, pulling a knife from his pocket. He flicks the blade over her hair, but she doesn’t move.

  “What have you done to her?” I dive forward, caught by Gemma around my waist. She holds me in place as I struggle.

  “Oh, don’t you worry about a thing, Lennox. She’ll only be in the trance for a while longer, and then she’ll wake.”

  “And then what? What does she have to do with this?”

  “She has everything to do with this. She’s your Achilles heel. Don’t you get it?” Edric chuckles, looking to his mother for praise.

  “And by getting to her, you’ll have me,” I say, hanging my head, running through everything that has happened in the last two weeks. It all settles in, and I look up. “You’re the Peacekeepers, so you ordered the murder of Mr. Smelks. But why?”

  “That’s an easy one. He murdered my sister.” Mrs. Blackstone rocks her head from side to side, cracking her neck, readying herself for a fight.

  “You’re the Queen of Greenfield,
” I whisper, and then the reality sets in. “But there’s no link between them. Why would he have even been involved? And why did you order Dylan’s murder?”

  “Do you even pay attention, Lennox?” Edric shakes his head, frustrated. “Dylan was a Blackstone by blood, and that is all. A Blackstone, nonetheless.”

  “Dylan found a dusty old love letter from my insufferable husband.” Mrs. Blackstone chuckles.

  “Wait, Dylan is your half-brother then?” I stare at Edric, shocked.

  “Seems so.”

  “So, the Blackstones kill their own, then?” I ask.

  “He wasn’t one of ours!” Mrs. Blackstone shouts, forcing my body to flinch from her intrusion. “He was a bastard. He would never be like us, nor live up to our family name.”

  “And so, he found out who he really was, and you had him removed.”

  Mrs. Blackstone forces her finger into my face. The end is sharpened to a point and painted black. “You removed him. It worked out perfectly, Lennox. Less blood on our hands. And now, you get to live with the fact that you’re responsible for your childhood friend and your sister’s deaths.”

  “Because you forced my hand. You might as well have placed the sword there,” I cry. “And I will never allow you to place a single hand on my sister. I will burn this town to the ground before she feels an ounce of pain.”

  “You’re toeing an awfully unstable line, Lennox Callahan. Watch your step,” Edric states.

  “Is it a point you are trying to prove, to see who the stronger family is?” I break free from Gemma’s hold. She huffs. “You can have me. You can use me, beat me, kill me if you must, but please, do not hurt her. She’s a child.”

  “So willing to lay down on the sword for your sister,” Mrs. Blackstone says, thunder cracking in the background. “Is that what you truly want?” A shiny blade blinds me as she circles it around my face, making a show of the slow torture she’s planning for me.

  Her sharp nails grab my head, forcing me closer to Sarah Beth. I’m shoved to my knees, and my head is jerked back. The blade flicks the tender skin on my neck. I close my eyes for a single second, preparing to die.