Sweet Peril

by Wendy Higgins

  Marna and I stayed up talking late into the night.

  In a moment of seriousness, she brought up Jay.

  “I owe you an apology for that night, New Year’s Eve. It was convenient to work on Jay when the whisperers showed, but you should know it was more than that.” Marna picked at the covers. “He was so sweet to me, so real, and so cute. I wanted to kiss him. Honestly. He’s the only boy I’ve ever fancied like that.”

  “It’s okay,” I told her. I’d long since let go of any ill feelings about that night, and I’d always wondered what she really thought of him.

  I told her everything—about how Jay and Veronica had eventually reconciled and become a couple, and how I didn’t know if they’d be able to make it through the college transition. Veronica seemed bored and unhappy these days.

  Marna listened, shifting to sit behind me and play with my hair while I talked. When I finished, she lay her head on my shoulder and sighed.

  “No offense to your friend, Anna, but human girls always take love for granted. They want things to be wild and carefree all the time. And when it gets too comfortable or requires a little work, they just toss it off. I’d give anything to be loved by a guy like Jay. But I suppose the grass is always greener on the other side, right?”

  Marna kissed my cheek and I told her good night. After she turned off the light and we snuggled into her downy bed, I felt something cool on my shoulder. I reached up and was surprised to find a damp spot on my T-shirt. Remembering how she’d rested her head there, it now made sense. Marna’s tears.

  She just wanted a chance at love. We all did. Love was the essence of being alive. But we’d never have a chance to work through those phases of a relationship and find ourselves in that comfort zone with someone. We’d never know for certain whether or not we’d take it for granted. I curled up on my side, lacing my fingers together and pressing them to my forehead.

  Use me to make it happen. I beg, let it be soon. And let us have a chance to live.

  Winter

  Senior Year

  CHAPTER NINE

  LAND DOWN UNDER

  Dad contacted me three days before Christmas. I’d been beginning to wonder if there were any more Neph out there who could be allies. He forwarded my travel itinerary for the following day with a message saying he’d meet to debrief Kope and me on our second layover, which would be in New Zealand. I stared at the itinerary for a long time. We were going to Australia! Dad warned me that it was summertime there, so I’d be sure to leave behind the sweaters and jackets I’d been donning.

  I saw that our first short layover was in Los Angeles, which pinched at my heart. I’d be so close to Kai, and he wouldn’t even know it.

  Out of sheer concern I’d told my dad what I’d learned from the twins about Kai not working. He gruffly replied that he couldn’t get involved, but promised to let me know if he heard anything. Dad said L.A. had a constant high volume of whisperers prowling, so we’d have to get the timing just right before he’d send me there.

  Trying to be patient sucked. Time just kept taunting me. And now the holidays were here.

  We’d be gone over Christmas. I’d never been away from Patti on the holiday. I hated to leave her alone—especially in our apartment, which looked so dreary without the annual decorations. But we couldn’t be caught celebrating.

  Before she took me to the airport, I slipped a gift onto her bed when she wasn’t looking—an angel necklace with a list of a hundred things I loved about her. Some of the stuff was silly, little memories and inside jokes only she would get, but I knew she’d read it over and over while I was gone.

  Kope flew down, just like last time, and met me at the Atlanta airport. He was more subdued than normal on the first leg of our flight. Maybe because the last time we’d seen each other I’d revealed an awful lot about myself and my feelings for Kai to him and the twins. I didn’t mind the quiet, though. And I was glad the truth was out there.

  When we changed planes in L.A., there was blessed little time to contemplate how near I was to Kaidan. Kope kept sending me furtive glances, but I was too lost in thought to talk.

  I’d been on an adventure across the world, and Kaidan had no idea. For so long I’d been in a holding pattern, refusing to move on, and recently I’d been shoved forward without him. With each new event and journey I felt farther from him.

  I stared out the airplane window and sent a silent greeting over the dry hills before our very long flight across the ocean.

  Jet lag set in as we arrived in New Zealand. My internal clock was thoroughly confused; thankfully, enthusiasm for the trip overrode it. Kope and I waited at a corner table in the airport restaurant where Dad said he’d meet us. We hadn’t been waiting long before he came clanking up. I wasn’t sure how he got past the metal detectors with those giant steel-toed boots. I stood and hugged him around his thick waist.

  “Trip okay so far?” he asked.

  “Great,” I told him.

  The three of us huddled over the table when he took out the manila envelope. He wasted no time.

  “This is the son of Mammon, Duke of Greed. Name’s Flynn Frazer. Twenty-six years old.”

  He pulled out a picture of a youthful man with bright red hair, cut short, and a slightly crooked nose. I easily recognized him as the bouncer from the awful summit in New York City. Flynn had a wide mouth and an infectious grin. He appeared to be in a gym, standing next to a punching bag with some other guys. He wore shiny red shorts and a sleeveless white T-shirt. He was short in stature compared to the other guys, but he had a wiry-muscled build that boasted of strength. One of his teeth was an obvious shade whiter than the others.

  “Does he have a fake tooth?” I asked.

  “Probably,” my father answered. “He’s an MMA fighter. Mixed martial arts. He’s the current welterweight champion in Australia. Never lost a fight. You’ll get to see for yourself while you’re there.”

  I chewed my lip. Fighting, even for sport, made me a little nervous.

  “What’s welterweight?” I handed the picture across the table to Kope.

  “The weight class between lightweight and middleweight. Around a hundred and seventy pounds. His sin manifests itself differently than you might think. His father’s a dragon when it comes to hoarding gold and jewels, but this kid doesn’t seem to care about those types of acquisitions. He’s greedy for attention and status, especially when it comes to his rank and reputation, whether it’s a win in the ring or building a rep with the ladies.”

  “I think I know of him,” Kope said. “Was he the boy forced to entertain the Dukes with a fight?”

  “Yep, that’s our guy. Here’s his story. The only time Flynn’s sin raises its head is when he does something competitive. His greed takes over, sort of like it’s his win and he has to have it. His father is a big boxing fan and wanted Flynn to try his hand at fighting when he was just fourteen. He learned quick, and Mammon bragged about him to all the Dukes. When Flynn was nineteen, Shax, Duke of Theft, bet Mammon that Flynn couldn’t beat his son, Erik. Erik was a twenty-one-year-old boxer in Atlantic City at the time.” He paused, sitting back and crossing his arms. I got a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.

  “It’d been a long time since anything brutal happened to a Neph at the hands of the Dukes. Stuff like that used to happen all the time before the number of kids went down so drastically. Anyway. The annual summit was held in Australia that year, and they brought both boys to fight. Erik held his own for a long time, but once Flynn finally got the upper hand, he couldn’t stop himself.”

  “He killed him,” I whispered. Dad raised his chin in confirmation.

  “Last week was the anniversary of Erik’s death. I had a tail on Flynn, and he drove out to the rock quarry where they made him dump the body all those years ago.”

  He pulled a second picture from the envelope.

  Flynn sat near the edge of the quarry, seeming unconcerned by its steep, devastating drop of several hundred feet to th
e water below. His legs splayed open in front of him, and he cradled his face in his hands. The display of grief and remorse made me pull back from the picture, ill.

  “He’s a little rough around the edges, Anna, but don’t be too scared of him. He should come around easier than the daughter of Sonellion.”

  I sure hoped so.

  “How is Z?” I asked. “Have any of your whisperers checked on her?”

  “She’s hanging in there.”

  Kope and I looked at each other. I wished all this planning didn’t have to take so long. Dad handed us tickets to Flynn’s fight, two backstage passes, our hotel information, and Flynn’s home address before kissing my forehead good-bye.

  The last leg of the flight was uneventful except for one tiny skirmish. Kope and I were delirious with sleepiness. I tried to get him to take a drink of my latte, wanting to see him bounce off the cabin walls from a dose of caffeine. He batted away my lame attempts to bring my cup to his mouth, laughing. Then he very uncharacteristically poked my waist and I squeaked. The older gentleman in the row next to us stared with disapproval, and I backed away.

  “Let us compromise,” Kope said. “You take a drink of my green tea and I will have a drink of your . . . sugared mud.”

  “Deal!”

  We switched drinks and I almost gagged at the bitter natural flavor. His nose crinkled in return.

  “There’s no sugar in this!” I declared, just as he said, “That is too sweet!”

  After a bit more laughing I settled down and tried to focus on my homework. It took a while, but I finished it then slept until we began descending. I was glad to see the city of Melbourne through the window when I awoke: a cluster of high-rises along the iridescent ocean. The water sparkled and winked up at us as we came in for landing.

  The Australian summer was a welcome change from the chilliness I’d left behind in Georgia. At our snazzy hotel, the people were friendly, refusing tips. I smiled like an idiot at their awesome accents, although I guess technically I was the one with the accent.

  When I checked in at the front desk, I was handed a small sealed box.

  “This was delivered for you, miss.”

  I thanked the concierge and tucked it into my pocket.

  Kope and I rode the mirrored elevator to the fifth floor. We gave our spare room keys to each other in case of an emergency.

  After agreeing on a time to meet, we went our separate ways. The first thing I noticed inside my room were the chocolates on the pillows of the enormous king-size bed.

  “Yes!” I threw myself on top of the oversized downiness and ate the chocolates, one right after the other. Then I sat up, cross-legged, and opened the box that’d been left for me. Inside was a small black dagger and sheath. I grinned. Thanks, Dad.

  I was tired, but full of adrenaline, so I decided to explore the room. I opened the giant wooden bureau and found a television. The next cabinet hid a minifridge. I squatted and opened it, expecting to find it empty. But it wasn’t.

  It was full of alcohol.

  My heart banged and my hands got clammy.

  No harm in looking . . .

  I sat down, removing a minibottle of tequila and cradling it in my palm. It’s funny how the body reacts similarly to different types of longings, be it a craving for substances or a case of lust: blood and breath quickening, skin heating, palms dampening. With slow deliberation, I placed the golden liquor back in its spot, loving the sound of the bottles clinking together.

  A soft knock sounded from the other side of the wall, and I jumped, slamming the fridge closed. I moved my hearing outward through the wall and whispered, “Kope?”

  “Anna? Are you behaving?” His voice had a teasing tone. He’d heard the bottles. Aagh! Geez, did other Neph ever take a break from listening?

  “Um,” I stammered. “Just looking, Mr. Parole Officer.”

  He chuckled.

  I wouldn’t have drank anything, but I’d certainly been entertaining the daydream. “I’m gonna take a shower now.”

  When I saw the giant sunken tub with fancy bottles of soaps, I decided on a bubble bath instead. While I lay in the foamy hot water, I found myself humming the chorus to Lascivious’s new song. That would not do. So I changed it to the next thing that came to mind: a poppy little tune that Jay always blasted for us girls in his car. Then a horrifying thought stopped me. Was Kope listening to me splash around in the bathtub, singing? He wouldn’t do that, would he? The very idea made me all tingly and paranoid. I slunk down a little farther into the bubbles and shut my mouth.

  Once I was good and wrinkly I wrapped myself in the hotel’s plush robe. Dad had suggested we dress nicely for the arena. It was a Christmas Eve fight. I’d brought a flowing black, knee-length skirt made of stretchy material and a fitted maroon blouse. Bad outfit choice. Where was I supposed to put the hilt? The dagger was already strapped to my inner thigh. I couldn’t wear the hilt on my ankle, and it bulged under the fabric of the skirt when I tried to put it at my waist. Kope would have to hold it for me. I sent my hearing into his room.

  “Hey, Kope?” No answer. My hearing nudged around his room until it found muffled music, like a radio that had been overturned. I homed my hearing on the music and could barely make out that it was classical, instrumental. My heart sped up as I called his name again. Still no answer. I couldn’t imagine that he’d fallen asleep. He would have told me if he was going somewhere. I listened in his bathroom and also down the hall to the ice machine. Nothing. Picking up both our room keys, I hurried the short distance down the hall and knocked lightly on his door. Still nothing.

  I gripped the hilt in its leather case in one hand, and with the other hand I swiped the room key and quietly pushed the door open. Taking a timid step inside the dim room, I propped the door open with my foot. What I saw on the floor in front of the bed made me flush with prickly heat.

  Kope was fine. He was meditating. He wore earbuds blaring classical music. I should have left right then, but I was struck still by the sight of him in such a private moment. He was down on his knees, sitting back on his heels, head bowed in reverence. He wore navy running pants but no socks and no shirt. The triceps in his arms bulged and his rounded back was a brown mass of muscle.

  The thing that made it hard for me to breathe was the way he completely submitted himself as a humble offering on the floor like that. To see a big, strong man down on his knees, devoid of selfish pride, meditating with his whole being was enough to make a woman weep with admiration.

  I’d been staring far too long. When I took a step backward his head whipped up and our eyes collided. He tore the earbuds out with a startled expression in his light eyes.

  I was so busted.

  “S-sorry,” I said. I ducked away and shut the door, drawing jagged breaths. Behind me I heard Kope open his door and rush out. When I turned, my eyes must have bugged at the sight of his body because he took one glance down at his bare chest and bolted into the room to put on a shirt. I waited, heart pounding with foolish embarrassment, until he returned to the hall.

  “Is anything the matter?” he asked.

  “No. I’m so sorry. I just, I thought something might’ve happened when you didn’t answer me.”

  He relaxed. “I should have warned you. It’s the only time I block my hearing. I did not mean to frighten you.”

  “It’s okay,” I whispered. “Do you, um, think you could come in for just a minute when you have time? I want to ask you something.” I held up the hilt to show him what it was about.

  “I will join you now.” He followed me into my room.

  We sat in two armchairs facing each other across a small desk. I took a deep breath and willed my heart rate to slow as visions of half-naked Kopano danced in my head. I didn’t like him like that, but it was hard not to be affected by such a sight. Okay, he’s waiting for you to say something, Anna. Get it together. I cleared my throat.

  “Do you mind holding the hilt for me today? I won’t be able to in this out
fit.”

  He answered without hesitation. “I would be honored to carry it.”

  “Thanks. And there’s something else I was wondering . . . it’s kind of strange. Would you mind taking out the hilt and holding it?”

  I handed him the hilt in its case. He glanced at me with curiosity but trusted me without question, opening the pouch and taking out the hilt. He held it in his gentle hands, lifting to inspect it with awe.

  “Do you feel anything?” I asked.

  His expression was quizzical when he asked, “In what way?”

  “Physically. Does it kind of zap your skin?”

  His brow furrowed. “No.”

  “Oh.” I sagged a little. “I thought you might be able to wield it, too.”

  “Anna . . .” He eased the hilt back into its carrier. “I had many years of indulgence before my life was changed.”

  It was hard to imagine Kope as anything less than completely controlled.

  “I guess I knew that,” I said, “but I thought since you’d been, you know, redeemed and all . . .”

  He gave me a small smile and stood, sliding the hilt into his pocket. “Perhaps the Sword of Righteousness is not as forgiving as its Creator.”

  I followed him to the door, until he turned abruptly and I halted just before crashing into him.

  “Anna . . .” His eyes looked a little wild. I took a small step back.

  “Yeah?” I asked.

  He never took his eyes from me. “Do you still speak with Kaidan?”

  I dropped my eyes and shook my head, frazzled by the question. “He won’t talk to me.”

  “But you still love him.”

  I swallowed hard and nodded, meeting his solemn eyes again.

  He was quiet for a long pause before he said, “I am going to take a walk, but I have my phone. I will see you at twelve thirty.”

  He closed the door behind him, and I leaned my forehead against it for a while, wondering why things had to be so complicated.