Unforgiven

by Lauren Kate

  "Can we please not call it prom?" Lilith said.

  "You want to rename prom?" he asked. "It's cool with me, but it might provoke a riot at Trumbull. Those kids are pretty excited. 'Only ten days to go until the best night of our lives,' and all that crap."

  "They'll kick you off prom court if they catch you mocking it," Lilith said. "It's high school heresy."

  Cam smiled a little. So she had been listening when his name had been announced. "Is that all I have to do to get kicked off prom court?" he said. "Wait, I thought we weren't calling it prom."

  Lilith thought for a moment. "Just so we're clear, I'm going because I want to play music and hear the Four Horsemen, not because I want to wear my dream corsage or a cranberry satin maxidress."

  "I should hope not," Cam said. "Cranberry is so last season."

  It looked, for an instant, like Lilith was going to smile, but then her eyes went cool again. "If you didn't come about the band, why are you here?"

  Ask her. What are you waiting for? He felt the tickets in his pocket, but for some reason Cam was frozen. The vibe wasn't right. She'd say no. He'd better wait.

  After a moment's awkward silence, Lilith pushed past him and walked across her lawn to the battered minivan. She leaned in through the open door, pulled a lever, and stepped back as a metal platform unfolded and lowered to the driveway.

  Lilith's mother appeared on the front porch. She wore pink lipstick and a megawatt smile that concealed none of the exhaustion in her eyes. Her beauty had faded, but Cam could tell she'd once been a knockout, just like Lilith.

  "Can I help you?" she asked Cam.

  Cam opened his mouth to reply, but Lilith cut him off. "He's just someone from school. He came to drop off some work."

  Her mother said, "School will have to wait. I need your help with Bruce right now." She turned away from the door and reappeared a moment later pushing a wheelchair, and in the wheelchair was Bruce. He was trembling and looked frail. He coughed into a dishrag, his eyes watering.

  "Hi, Cam," Bruce called.

  "I didn't know your brother was sick."

  Lilith shrugged him off, going over to Bruce and running her fingers through his hair. "Now you do. What do you want, Cam?"

  "I--" Cam started to say.

  "Never mind. Of all the possible reasons you might have come here," Lilith said, "I can't think of a single one that matters."

  Cam had to agree. But what could he do--open his wings and tell her the truth, that he was a fallen angel who'd once broken her heart so deeply she'd never recovered? That the devil had assigned her to millennia of serial Hells? That her rage toward Cam ran so much deeper than anger about stolen song lyrics? That he would lose everything if he failed to win her heart again?

  "Lilith, time to go," her mother said, pulling the lever and then walking around to the driver's seat. As the wheelchair rose into the back of the van, Bruce met Cam's gaze and surprised him with a wink, as if to say, Don't take things so seriously.

  "Bye, Cam," Lilith said as she closed the back doors behind her brother and got in on the passenger side.

  "Where are you going?" Cam asked.

  "The emergency room," Lilith called out the window.

  "Let me go with you. I can help--"

  But Lilith and her family were already backing down the driveway. He waited until the van had turned the corner before letting his wings out again.

  The sun was setting by the time Cam found them in the ER.

  Lilith and her mom were asleep in a hallway, leaning against each other on stained orange chairs. He watched Lilith for a moment, marveling at her beauty and her stolen peacefulness.

  He waited until the security guard left his post, then snuck back toward the rooms for patients. Cam peeked behind several curtains before he found the boy, sitting on a cot with his shirt off, oxygen tubes running through his nose, an IV hooked up to his arm. Bruce had been written in blue marker on a dry-erase board over his head.

  "I knew you'd come," he said, without turning away from the window.

  "How'd you know that?"

  "Because you love my sister," he said.

  Cam reached for Bruce's hand, realizing that he was holding it as much for his own sake as for the boy's. It struck him that he had not seen a friendly face since he'd entered Lilith's Hell. He'd been toiling nonstop, with no sign that he was making any progress and no one to tell him to keep going. He squeezed the boy's hand gratefully.

  "I do love her," he said over the soft beeps of the machines Bruce was hooked up to. "I love her more than anything, anywhere, in this world and beyond."

  "Easy, that's my sister you're talking about." Bruce smiled weakly. For a moment, his breath halted. Cam was about to call for a nurse when the boy's chest eased into a steady rhythm. "Just kidding. Hey, Cam?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Do you think I'll be around long enough to feel that way about someone someday?"

  Cam had to look away, because he couldn't lie to Bruce and say that yes, he would someday love a girl as deeply as Cam loved Lilith. In another week and a half, there would be nothing left of this world. Regardless of what Lilith chose and how Cam and Lucifer's deal played out, Bruce and all the other sad souls in Crossroads would likely be recycled for future punishments.

  Still, Cam wished there were a way to give the boy some comfort in the little time he had left. He felt a lump forming in his throat and his wings burning at the base of his shoulders. An idea formed in his mind. It was risky, but then so was Cam.

  He glanced at the kid, who was looking out the window and seemed to be in a faraway place. He likely had only minutes before a nurse came in or Lilith and her mother woke up.

  He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, tilted his head toward the ceiling, and unfurled his wings. Usually there was a delicious abandon to throwing out his wings, but this time Cam was careful not to let them strike any of the medical equipment keeping Bruce stable.

  When Cam opened his eyes, he saw that his wings filled the small curtained space and made the walls shimmer with golden light. Bruce was gazing at him with great reverence and only a little fear. An angel's glory was the most incredible sight a mortal could see--and this time Cam knew it was especially remarkable because, aside from Lilith, Bruce hadn't seen much beauty in his brief life.

  "Any questions?" Cam asked. It was only fair to give the kid a moment to try to catch up.

  Ever so slightly, the boy shook his head, but he didn't scream, and he didn't burst into flames. It helped that Bruce was young, his heart and mind still open to the possibility of angels. This was all Cam had hoped for. Now he could proceed.

  He ran his hands along the inside of his wings, surprised to feel that the new white fibers felt different to the touch than the golden ones. They were thicker, sturdier, and, Cam realized, perfect for what he had in mind.

  He grimaced as he plucked a single filament from his wings. In his hand it became a huge white feather, a foot long and as soft as a kiss. It was called a pennon. At the base of the feather, at the end of its pointed quill, was a single drop of iridescent blood. It was impossible to say what color the blood was, for it was every color all at once.

  "Hold this," he said to Bruce, handing him the feather with the quill pointing up.

  "Wow," Bruce whispered, running his fingers along the soft white edges as Cam moved to the IV dripping medicine into Bruce. He unscrewed the tube at the bottom of the bag, then reached to take the pennon back from Bruce. He dipped its quill into the IV and watched the clear bag of liquid swirl with a trillion colors for a moment before the angelic blood dispersed into it. Cam reattached the IV and handed the feather back to Bruce. He didn't need it anymore.

  "Did you just save my life?" Bruce asked, tucking the feather under his pillow.

  "For today," Cam said, trying to sound brighter than he felt. He folded his wings into themselves and out of sight.

  "Thanks."

  "Our secret?"

  "Sure," Bruce said, and
Cam started for the door. "Hey, Cam," the boy called softly when Cam was just about to turn into the hallway.

  "Yeah?"

  "Don't tell her I said this," the boy whispered, "but you should tell Lilith that you love her."

  "Oh, yeah?" Cam said. "Why is that?"

  "Because," Bruce said, "I think she loves you, too."

  Nine Days

  Revenge met in the band room the next morning before school.

  When Lilith walked in, bearing photocopies of her latest song, "Flying Upside Down," Jean was trying out some crazy new riffs on the synthesizer while Luis tore through a supersized sack of Doritos. He held out the bag for Lilith and rattled the chips inside.

  "I usually try to hold off on my artificial-cheese fix until at least nine a.m.," she said, waving him off.

  "This is brain food, Lilith," Luis insisted. "Get some."

  Jean walked by and grabbed a fistful on his way to set up Lilith's microphone. "He's right," he said with his mouth full.

  Lilith succumbed and took a chip. She was surprised by how delicious it tasted. She took a second chip, and a third.

  "Now you're ready to rock," Luis said after she'd polished off a couple of handfuls, and it was true. She wasn't so hungry, so edgy anymore.

  She smiled at Luis. "Thanks."

  "No sweat," he said, then nodded at Lilith's outfit. "Nice duds today, by the way."

  Lilith glanced down at her dress. That morning, for the first time she could remember, she hadn't felt like wearing black. She'd raided her mother's closet before school and found a tight white dress with big green polka dots, cinched with a wide purple patent-leather belt. She'd paused in front of her mother's full-length mirror, surprised at how cool the ensemble looked with her broken-in combat boots, how the green in the dress brightened her red hair.

  When she'd come into the kitchen wearing it, Bruce had looked up from his Pop-Tart and whistled.

  Lilith still didn't know exactly what had happened, but Bruce had been discharged early, and when her family returned from the hospital yesterday, he said he felt better than he had in years. The doctor couldn't explain why her brother's breathing had suddenly returned to normal; he could say only that Bruce was better than he'd been in a long, long time.

  "How many times do I have to tell you that my closet is not your personal playground?" her mom had asked, even though Lilith had never before raided her closet. She put down her coffee and pushed up the sleeves of her yellow cardigan--the one she'd accused Lilith of stealing but had since found at the bottom of her dresser.

  "I've always loved this dress on you," Lilith said, and meant it. "Is it okay if I borrow it? Just for today. I'll be careful."

  Her mother's mouth twitched, and Lilith knew an insult was brewing, but maybe Lilith's compliment had thrown her off. Because instead of lashing out, her mother scrutinized Lilith's look, then reached across the counter for her purse.

  "It'll look better with a little color on your lips," she said, handing Lilith a tube of matte pink lipstick.

  Now, in the band room, being careful not to get lipstick on the microphone, Lilith waited for Jean's cue, then leaned in and started singing her new song. She was nervous, so she closed her eyes and let Luis's backbeat and Jean's psychedelic chords come at her sideways in the dark.

  It had been so easy to imagine how the song might sound when she was alone in her room, writing lyrics and inventing melodies. But now that she was singing it in front of other people, she felt exposed. What if they hated it? What if it sucked?

  Her voice trembled. She considered stopping, running out of the room.

  She opened her eyes and looked over at Luis, who was nodding at her with a smile plastered across his face, his drumsticks alternating between the snare and the cymbals. Jean picked up the slack on the guitar, plucking notes on the strings as though each one told a story.

  Lilith felt a burst of energy rush through her. A band that hadn't existed two days ago had found a sound that was rich and nimble. Suddenly, she was singing her song like it was worthy of an audience. She had never sung so loudly or so freely.

  Luis was feeling it, too. He ended the song with a slamming, cataclysmic racket on the drums.

  When it was over, all three of them wore the same expression: smiling, a little dazed.

  "Magic Doritos," Luis said, gazing reverently at the bag. "I'll have to stock up on these before prom."

  Lilith laughed, but she knew it was more than the Doritos. It was the three of them relaxing into their sound together, not just as bandmates but as friends. And it was Lilith, and the change that had come over her the day before, knowing Bruce was feeling better.

  After the hospital, Lilith's mom had suggested they all go out for pizza, a treat that happened only once or twice a year. They'd shared a large pepperoni-and-olive and made each other laugh playing pinball on the old Scared Stiff machine.

  When Lilith had tucked Bruce into bed, he'd lain back on his pillow and said, "Cam's pretty cool."

  "What are you talking about?" Lilith asked.

  Bruce shrugged. "He visited me at the hospital. He cheered me up."

  Her instinct had been to get mad at Cam for visiting Bruce without telling her. But she sat on her brother's bed a moment longer, watching him fade into sleep, and he seemed so peaceful, so unlike the sick boy she was used to, that Lilith found she could muster nothing but gratitude for whatever Cam had done.

  "What song do you want to do next, Lilith?" Jean asked now. "We need to ride this wave."

  Lilith thought a moment. She wanted to work on "Somebody's Other Blues," but thinking about it, and about what Cam had done with her lyrics, still smarted.

  "We could try--" she said, but three loud knocks on the door made her stop. "What was that?"

  "Nothing!" Luis said. "Let's keep playing."

  "Might be Tarkenton," Jean said. "We're not supposed to be in here."

  The knock sounded again. Only it wasn't coming from the door. It was coming from outside. The window.

  "Dude!" Jean Rah said. "It's Cam."

  The boys rushed to open the window, but Lilith turned away. Cam's face was the last thing she wanted to see right now. The feeling she'd had playing her music moments before had been simple, good. The feeling she got when she looked at Cam was so complicated she didn't know where to begin unpacking it. She was drawn to him. She was mad at him. She was grateful to him. She didn't trust him. And it was hard to feel so many things for one person at once.

  "What are you doing out there?" Luis asked. "We're on the second story."

  "Trying to lose Tarkenton," Cam said. "He wants my head for skipping another prom court meeting."

  Lilith couldn't help herself: She snickered at the thought of Cam in those meetings with all those stuck-up kids. When she accidentally caught Cam's eye, he smiled at her and held out his hand, and before she knew it, she found herself moving toward him to help him climb in through the window.

  He stood up but didn't let go of her hand. In fact, he gave it a squeeze. Her stomach fluttered, and she didn't know why. She pulled her hand away, but not before glancing at Jean and Luis, wondering what they'd think about Cam standing there like a weirdo, holding her hand. The boys weren't paying attention. They'd moved back to Jean's synth and were working on a groove together.

  "Hey," Cam whispered now that the two of them were more or less alone.

  "Hey," she said. Why did she feel so awkward? She looked up at Cam and remembered there was something she wanted to say. "My brother's been in the hospital sixteen times. He's never had a visitor besides my mom and me." She paused. "I don't know why you did that--"

  "Lilith, let me explain--"

  "But thank you," Lilith said. "It cheered him up. What did you say to him?"

  "Actually," he said, "we talked about you."

  "Me?" she asked.

  "It's a little embarrassing," Cam said, smiling at her like he wasn't embarrassed at all. "He kind of guessed that I liked you. He's very prote
ctive of you, but I'm trying not to let his size intimidate me."

  Cam liked her? How could he just say that like it was no big deal? The words rolled off his tongue so easily, Lilith wondered how many girls Cam had said it to before. How many hearts he'd broken.

  "You still with me?" Cam asked, waving his hand in front of her face.

  "Yeah," Lilith said. "Um, don't underestimate Bruce. He could kick your ass."

  Cam smiled. "I'm glad he's feeling better."

  "It's like a miracle," she said, because it was.

  "Earth to Lilith." Luis's voice sounded distorted through the microphone Jean had hooked up to his Moog. "Bell's gonna ring in fifteen minutes. We've got time to work on one more song, and we need to schedule our next practice."

  "About that," Cam said, scratching his head. "You guys got any extra room in this band for an electric-guitar player who can hang high in a three-part harmony?"

  "I don't know, man," Jean said, grinning. "You're good, but last I heard the lead singer hated your guts. Stealing her journal was a dick move."

  "Even if it means Lilith wins the lyrics contest," Luis added. "Personally, I think it was kind of a genius hack."

  Lilith slugged him. "You stay out of it."

  "What?" Luis asked. "Admit it, Lilith. You would never have entered that contest if it hadn't been for Cam. If you win, it'll be great exposure for the band."

  "What can I say?" Cam shrugged. "I believe in Lilith."

  He'd said it as easily as he'd said he liked her, but this sounded different, more palatable, like he wasn't just trying to get in her pants. Like he honestly believed in her. Her cheeks grew warm as Cam bent down and picked up one of the photocopied pages she'd brought in for Luis and Jean. He read the lyrics of "Flying Upside Down," a smile spreading across his face.

  "This your latest?"

  Lilith was about to explain a few changes she already wanted to make, but Cam surprised her by saying, "I love it. Don't change a word."

  "Oh."

  Cam put down the paper, unzipped his bag, and pulled out a large, spherical object, wrapped in butcher paper.

  "Is that Tarkenton's head?" Luis asked.

  Cam glanced at the freshman drummer. "Morbid. I like it. You can stay in the band."

  "I'm a founding member, bro!" Luis said. "What are you?"

  "The best electric-guitar player this school's ever seen," Jean said, shrugging at Lilith. "Sorry, but Cam could really round out our sound."