I tuck Dad’s diary under my arm and open the window latch, cursing my sweaty hands. I push Rosie out the window first, following close behind. The metal ladder cringes loudly as we go down the steps, but so far, there’s no sign of pursuit. I don’t know who those other Idols were, but they must be keeping the white-haired monster and his accomplice occupied.
When I hit the pavement right after Rosie, I grab her hand and take off into the night. I don’t know where we’re going or if Starlight Island is even real. All I know is that Hawk City is no longer safe for us—if it ever truly was.
Rosie is all I have now, and I’ll do anything to protect her.
Anything.
2
Daisy
Seven Years Later
“Can I get an order of fries, two double cheeseburgers, one with no onion, and one with extra onion and jalapenos, please?” I hit the call bell, then clip the paper order to the window board.
Without pause, I whirl around, mopping the sweat from my forehead with the back of my forearm. Poppy’s Joint is air-conditioned, but the heat from the kitchen combined with the nonstop action at the diner has me wishing for a nice cold bath. Only in my dreams. I’ll have to make do with the drip-drip of my hundred-year-old shower.
Felicity, my partner in crime, stops next to me, grabs a menu, and fans herself. “Blast all the Titans to hell. It’s fucking hot today.”
Her white blonde bangs are matted and stuck to her forehead, and her eyeliner is a little smudged. As a matter of fact, all of her makeup seems on the verge of melting away, leaving the creases on the sides of her mouth and the crinkles at the corners of her eyes exposed. I’d better keep her away from mirrors. She’s going to have a cow if she finds out she’s looking her actual age—thirty-seven—instead of the twentysomething she tries to portray.
“Yeah, it’s pretty hot. But at least we’re busy. We should get some decent tips today.”
Felicity snorts. “Right. The Norms in this town can’t afford to tip well even if they wanted to.”
My heart sinks, but what she said is nothing new to me. I’ve been working at Poppy’s Joint for two years, and I’ve never made more than twenty bucks a day in tips. I barely make enough money to put food on the table and pay the rent for the room I share with Rosie.
But I’m behind on rent this week. I used the money to pay for Rosie’s visit to the emergency room. Some jerk Fringe broke her arm at school. I need to come up with money fast, and that leaves me only one option. The thought alone makes me sick.
The doorbell rings, announcing we have more customers. But the chatter in the diner suddenly stops and a terrible silence follows. A group of four Idols is standing by the door. They’re young, probably my age. Simply by glancing at the four boys, I know they’re high-level Idols. It’s not because of their arrogant posture of raised chins and smirks galore. They ooze power. Cold sweat licks the back of my neck, and a shiver runs down my spine.
Wherever Idols go, Norms get hurt.
But it’s not only that deep-rooted truth that’s making my body shudder and my knees go weak. It’s the resemblance that one of them has to the Idol who killed my father. Not in his facial features. It’s the hair, his fucking white hair that’s taking my head for a spin.
“Damn, what are those assholes doing here?” Felicity whispers next to my ear. She tries to mask her fear by pretending the Idols are only entitled rich boys, but we all know they can kill everyone in this diner with a snap of their fingers.
Poppy walks around the counter, wiping his chubby fingers on the spotless white apron wrapped around his large middle.
“Can I help you, gentlemen?”
The two boys hanging back trade a glance and smirk. The guy next to the white-haired one just stares at Poppy with an air of boredom.
“Yes, please. We would like a booth for four,” the white-haired guy replies. His voice is like rich velvet, nice and smooth.
Poppy grabs a few menus from the front stand and starts to lead them to the back of the diner.
“No. We want one of the booths by the front window,” the bored dark-haired boy replies.
Poppy turns, his face a mask of compliance, but I can see past his façade. He’s worried now. There aren’t any booths available by the front window.
“They can have our booth. We’re leaving,” Mr. Jenkins, one of our regulars, says.
His wife is already up and urging their kids out of the booth. None of the children whine, even though they just got here. As a Norm, you learn quickly to never piss off an Idol.
Poppy thanks Mr. Jenkins and quickly cleans the table. The preppy boys slide into the booth and peer at the menu. Chatter slowly resumes, but the atmosphere is tense now. I’m sure the Idols’ presence here is going to clear out the diner in no time.
“Well, now we’re definitely not making any money tonight.” Felicity turns to the kitchen window. “Hey, Luigi. Where the hell are my burgers?”
Tucking the loose strands of hair that escaped my ponytail behind my ear, I take a deep breath.
Calm down, Daisy. They just want to have dinner, not cause utter destruction.
Poppy heads in my direction. “Don’t worry, honey. They’re in your section, but I’ll take care of them.”
I let out a breath of relief. “Thank you.”
With pad and pen in hand, I force my legs to move. I need to check on the table next to the Idols’ booth. I don’t look in their direction as I stride to my customers. When the white-haired guy raises his hand, I pretend I don’t see.
“Excuse me, waitress,” he says loudly as I walk in front of their table. “We’re ready to order.”
I pause and throw a nervous glance at Poppy, who’s already coming to the rescue.
“I’ll take your orders, gentlemen,” he says politely.
“Why?” the boy with the air of boredom asks, leaning against the back of the booth.
“Well, Daisy’s shift is almost over and—”
“I don’t give a damn about Daisy’s fucking shift,” he spits back, raising his voice. “Isn’t our booth in her section?” His cerulean blue eyes become brighter, turning an electric blue, and dark veins appear on his stony face before they fade away.
My jaw slackens and my eyes widen of their own accord. My heart is pounding inside of my chest, wanting to break free, but I can’t let these bullies take their wrath out on Poppy or our customers, not on my account.
“It’s okay, Poppy. I can take care of their orders.” I smile tightly, and then, pushing the fear aside, I turn to the jackasses. “What can I get you?”
I grip the pen tighter to hide the shakes that are running through my body and stare at the dark-haired one. He seems to be the meanest of the bunch, but I can’t bring myself to make eye contact with the one facing him—Dad’s killer’s look-alike.
“How about a little smile for us, sugar?” The dark-haired one’s lips unfurl into a wicked grin, and my stomach coils tightly. I don’t like how he’s watching me like I’m prey.
“Sorry, that’s not on the menu,” I say before I can help myself.
Daisy, what the hell are you doing?
“Ouch. Burned in two seconds. That’s gotta be a record for you, Rufio,” one of them chuckles.
Blond with green eyes, he reminds me of an actor from a popular TV show. He definitely has the Hollywood package. Too bad he’s an Idol and, as such, is bad to the bone.
“Shut your mouth, Phoenix.” Rufio levels his friend with a glare.
“What’s the pie of the day?” the white-haired boy asks.
I have no choice but to look at him. And fuck me, now I’m tongue-tied for entirely different reasons. His hair is completely white, but peering at him closely, I can see he definitely doesn’t possess any resemblance to my father’s murderer. There’s only one word I can use to describe him: flawless. His face looks like it was carved from marble, all perfect angles.
Big almond-shaped honey-colored eyes, framed by ridiculously long
eyelashes, watch me intensely. He asked me a question, and here I am, staring at him like I’m a freaking moron.
“Blueberry,” I croak and then clear my throat. “Blueberry pie.”
“Is it any good?” He continues to stare at me.
“The best in town.”
“Why are you even asking if the pie is any good?” Rufio asks with a hint of annoyance. “You’re going to order it and eat the whole thing with gusto, even if it tastes like cardboard.”
I turn to the guy. “It doesn’t taste like cardboard. It’s fucking amazing.”
Okay, I must have a death wish. Why am I talking back to him? He’s a high-level Idol, for crying out loud.
His eyebrows arch, and he gives me a crooked grin. “Really? Would you bet your life on it?”
Danger. Abort. Abort. Too late. If I back down now, he’ll think I’m afraid of him—which I am. Terrified, actually. But he can’t know that.
I lift my chin. “Yes.”
Phoenix, the blond one, whistles and says, “It seems we’ve got a feisty little thing on our hands, boys. This evening is turning out more amusing than I anticipated.”
“You shouldn’t have done that,” the white-haired guy says bluntly.
He’s right, but oh well. My mother used to say that my big mouth would be my demise. Maybe the day has finally come.
“Trust me. I won’t lose,” I reply.
His eyes become rounder, as if my statement caught him by surprise. He then narrows his gaze and says, “We’ll see. I’d also like to order a strawberry milkshake.”
“What do I get when I win?” I turn to Rufio, the arrogant son of a bitch who seems to be the worst of the lot.
“Uh, your life?” Phoenix replies instead.
Rufio remains quiet, observing me. His eyes are darker now, almost midnight blue.
“Guys, fucking order already so I can get my damn pie,” the white-haired one says.
“Jeez, Bryce. Chill the fuck out.” Phoenix drops his gaze to the menu.
“I’ll have the chicken soup, please,” the fourth guy who hadn’t spoken until now says.
“Chicken soup? In this heat? Are you crazy?” Phoenix glances at his friend, exasperated.
“I’m cold.”
“Morpheus, you’re always cold. Maybe you should step out of the shadows for once,” Rufio replies, his gaze now down on the menu.
“Bite me, asshole.”
Without glancing at his friend, Rufio flips him off. Then he lifts his chin, pushing his long bangs away from his eyes to better stare into mine. “I’ll have the fucking delicious blueberry pie.”
“You don’t like pie,” Phoenix chimes in.
Still staring at me and now sporting a smirk, Rufio replies, “I hate it, but I have a bet to win.”
3
Rufio
The Norm girl takes everyone’s orders and leaves without saying another word to me. I rattled her, that much I know, but she’s keen on not showing her fear. Foolish. I can see right through her defiant hazel eyes.
“I’ve never seen any girl hold her own against you, Rufio. And for a Norm to do it?” Phoenix whistles. “You must be losing your touch.”
“Shut up, bitch. That was just the warm-up.”
Bryce sighs. “I just wanted to have some pie. I shouldn’t have asked you idiots to tag along.” He plays with the condiment bottles on the table and doesn’t make eye contact with anyone.
“You can’t spend too much time by yourself, brother. You’d get bored out of your mind,” I say with a smirk.
“Bite me, Rufio.” He leans back on the cheap fake leather booth and glances around. “I hope the pie is good.”
“That waitress is bad news,” Morpheus says, dead serious.
“Ominous much? Jeez.” Phoenix shakes his head and laughs. “What can a Norm do against us? We’re fucking Idols, dude. The top dogs.”
Morpheus’s gaze goes out of focus. “I don’t know. I can’t quite put my finger to it.”
I grab the menu and make it float above my hand. “Stop being a fucking weirdo with your premonition shit.”
With a mere thought, the piece of laminated cardboard disintegrates into dust. A gasp to my right catches my attention. A Norm boy is watching me with round eyes and mouth agape. I reward him with a toothy grin and mouth, “You’re next.”
Terror fills his eyes. He turns to his mother and begs to leave. The woman, a tired-looking Norm, glances my way and recoils in fear. She grabs her bag quickly and pushes her kid off the booth seat. They’re gone before Daisy can collect the check.
“Pathetic Norms.” I chuckle.
Bryce glares at me. “Why are you like that?”
“What?” I widen my eyes, trying to play the innocent card. “It’s not my fault Norms get spooked easily.”
Phoenix perks up in his seat. “Here comes little Daisy with our order, guys.”
She’s holding the tray filled with food with one hand only while she grabs a few utensil packets. For a puny Norm, she’s kind of strong.
I give myself a mental slap. I did not just admire something about a disgusting Norm. They’re roaches, good only to be crushed under our feet.
With a clenched jaw, Daisy marches toward us. She’s hating this situation as much as I’m loving it. When Bryce asked if I wanted to tag along on this exploration trip of his, I didn’t expect to be this entertained.
She stops by our table and begins to recite our orders back to us. She hands Phoenix and Morpheus their orders first, then gives my brother his damn pie and milkshake. I didn’t order anything else besides the dessert. I’m not really hungry.
“And one extra big piece of pie for you, sir.” She turns to me slowly, holding the pie plate by the edge, when the thing flies out of her hand and the blueberry pie ends up covering my whole face.
“Shit!” she yells. “I’m so sorry.”
Phoenix and Morpheus howl in laughter, but the sound that’s drowning everything out is my rage pounding away in my ears. Deliberately slow, I wipe pieces of jam and crust from my eyes and nose. Then I turn to Daisy, the Norm I’m about to kill. Literally.
She takes a step back, finally showing her fear.
“I didn’t mean to do that. It was an accident,” she apologizes.
“Rufio, sit down,” Bryce says, but he can kiss my ass. I’m not going to be humiliated like that by a fucking Norm.
“What’s going on here?” The owner of this hovel steps in between me and his employee.
“I didn’t do it on purpose. I swear, Poppy,” the girl says.
Her desperation feeds my hunger for retribution. I’m the lord of death, and this Norm just awakened the beast.
DAISY
He’s going to kill me. And Poppy as well if he doesn’t get out of the way.
I don’t know what happened. One moment the plate was in my hands, and the next, it zapped from my fingers and flipped in midair, launching the piece of pie straight on the Idol’s face.
“Daisy, get your things and leave,” Poppy says without breaking eye contact with Rufio.
“Move aside, old man, or you’ll die too,” Rufio orders. His eyes are flashing bright blue, and dark veins have spread across his cheeks.
His power is rolling out in waves, something dark and smothering. I’ve never felt anything like it. Not even the Idol who killed my father felt this potent. It’s almost like I’m standing in front of a true demigod.
Poppy’s customers begin to evacuate the premises in a mad dash of pushed-back chairs and clinking utensils against glass.
Someone grabs my forearm and yanks me back.
“Come on, girl. What are you waiting for?” Felicity urges.
“I can’t let Poppy deal with that Idol.”
“Don’t worry about Poppy, Daisy. Think about Rosie.”
Guilt snakes into my insides and holds them in a dangerous vise. Rosie. I’m all the family she has left. If I die, what will happen to her?
I stagger back before I w
hirl around and head for the back door. There’s a loud crash and then the sound of glass breaking. I don’t stop, but I can’t help looking over my shoulder. Poppy is still standing, but Rufio is on his knees.
I slow down and begin to turn. I need to know what’s going on. The white-haired boy is standing now, surrounded by light. The brightness vanishes, and then he looks at me. I can’t decipher the glint in his eyes, but his smooth voice sounds in my head. “Go.”
Fuck. Did he really put that word in my head, or did I imagine it?
“Daisy!” Felicity calls out, already in front of the exit door at the end of the aisle.
I break eye contact with the guy and run to her. My thoughts are going a hundred miles an hour. What the hell just happened back there? Did the boy named Bryce help Poppy out? That makes no sense.
I burst through the back door and into a wall of heated air. That’s what it feels like stepping out of Poppy’s Joint. It’s already September, but summer won’t lose its grip on Saturn’s Bay.
Felicity opens the door of her car with a jerky movement and tells me to hurry up.
I get into her old red Mustang, the car she affectionately calls Ralph. The engine roars to life, and before I can put my seat belt on, Felicity peels out of the parking lot, burning rubber.
She stares at the rearview mirror and then curses. “What the hell happened back there, girl? Did you throw pie in that Idol’s face on purpose?”
“No! Of course not.”
“Shit. It doesn’t matter now. I hope he doesn’t hold a grudge.”
A bubble of crazy laughter escapes me.
“What’s the matter with you? Why are you laughing? You could’ve been killed.”
“I know. I’m laughing because I have to pack my shit and get the hell out of Saturn’s Bay.”
“Don’t be so dramatic. You don’t have to run away.” Felicity switches her attention back to the rearview mirror again. “No one is following us. Good.”
Wicked Gods: A Paranormal High School Bully Romance (Gifted Academy Book 1) Page 2
