“Besides that? No reason. I’m not in the mood to chat, and I have a lot going on.”
“Your big evening plans are to throw a party for a bunch of fourth graders?”
Amy’s gaze turned steely. “Says the kid who’s best friends with his mother.”
He jutted his chin at her and rolled his eyes. “Great insult. Real original.” His neighbor’s rottweiler was his best friend, but he doubted telling Amy he was tight with a dog would reduce her ridicule. She looked like she was getting ready to slam the door, so he moved his foot out of the danger zone.
“They aren’t the most ruthless gang in Toronto,” Amy said and scowled, returning to their original argument. “They’re a bunch of bullies. Trouble, not the end of the world.”
“You’re underestimating them. They’ll do anything to settle the score. These guys are sick, Amy. Alex’s favorite game is exploiting others’ weaknesses. They’ll hurt you, and they’ll have fun doing it.”
“Oh no,” she said in a mocking tone. “I’m scared now.”
“Has anything weird happened to you lately?” Alex’s vendettas never developed this fast. Amy had to have done something to exacerbate his rage.
“Yeah. This weird kid from my class followed me home and refused to leave.”
“I mean has anything weird happened that was unexplained or dangerous?”
Her expression grew serious. “I got locked inside the walk-in freezer at work.”
Charles shivered. “What? When? How did that happen?”
“Monday evening. I was grabbing some fries and the door slammed shut. It was no big deal. Someone’s idea of a joke.”
“No big deal? People don’t just get locked in freezers. How long were you stuck in there? How did you get out?”
“A while, maybe an hour. My co-worker Katie found me after we closed.”
He stared at her, mouth agape. “Did you go to the hospital?”
“No. What’s with all the questions? You trying to tell me it wasn’t an accident?”
“The more ‘accidents’ you avoid, the worse they’ll get,” he muttered darkly. “Don’t you think a life-threatening calamity that happened the exact same day you stood up for me is a tiny bit suspicious?”
Amy tugged at a lock of her hair. “It was a joke. You need to lighten up. This is high school, not How to Get Away with Murder.”
“Amy, you have to listen.” He reached for her hand. She snatched it away and plucked at her long sleeve. A flicker of unease flashed in her misty gray eyes. He blinked, and it was gone.
“I have a dozen nine-year-olds in my kitchen. I have to go.” She slammed the door in his face.
Charles kicked the wall. No one ever listened to him.
“Banks?”
His heart leapt into his throat. Assassin’s Honor was here for Amy. He started with fright, teetered precariously on one foot, lost his balance, and toppled backward into Amy’s hedge.
“Why is it whenever I see you, you’re either about to get punched by a tiny chick or stuck upside down in her hedge?”
Charles struggled to his feet. Several strawberry blond tufts parted company with his scalp as he feverishly brushed shrubbery from his hair.
“What are you doing here?” Zack chuckled. He was standing on Amy’s front steps, his blue eyes pools of mirth.
Charles scowled. “Why does everyone keep asking me that?”
“Maybe it’s because you keep getting stuck in hedges.”
“Very funny.” Charles kicked a pebble underneath Amy’s porch. Zack and Peter had once found him beat up and bleeding behind Peter’s house in the second grade. Charles had sheltered beneath the Jenkins’s hedge to try to get away from Alex and had been in too much pain to hobble home on his own. Zack and Peter had been nice about it in the moment and walked him to his street. This was years before Zack became a popular ass and Peter joined the gang hellbent on destroying Charles’s life.
“No, seriously, why are you here? How do you know Amy?” Zack strode down her steps to join him in the front yard.
“Our moms know each other.” Charles provided the simplest explanation possible and marched down Amy’s drive with what was left of his dignity.
“Ah.” Zack fell into step beside him.
“How do you know her?” Zack had to be interested in Amy if he was making this much of an effort to talk to him. Charles hadn’t had this long a chat with a classmate since the sixth grade.
Zack raked a hand through his messy red hair. “It’s complicated. Her little sister is friends with my brother, she’s a server at the restaurant where my team goes to celebrate, and after school yesterday, I caught some guys about to beat her up.” He clenched his jaw. “It was pathetically unfair, three on one.”
Charles halted midstride and stared, horrorstruck, at Zack. The threats were spiraling out of control.
“Hey. Bro. Why you turning white? You guys aren’t dating, are you?”
“No. It’s just …” He waved his hands in a feeble let-it-go gesture.
“Just …
“It’s my fault, okay? What’s going to happen to Amy, it’s all my fault.”
“What does this have to do with you?”
“She stopped those guys from beating me up,” he blurted, his cheeks burning with shame. He waited for the staring, the mocking laughter, all the usual crap.
Zack shocked him by taking it in stride. “How did she stop those guys from beating you up? She’s even smaller than you. Sorry, no offense.”
“She said she was going to call nine-one-one and get them arrested for violence on city property.”
“You’re kidding.” Zack snorted. “They bought that?”
Charles shrugged. “They’re even dumber than they look. But now …”
“Hold on.” Zack held up a hand. “You said something was going to happen to Amy. It already happened. I stopped it.”
“Of course!” Charles snapped his fingers. “You’re the boyfriend!”
“What are you talking about? What’s going to happen to her?”
“Chill for a second.” Charles launched into the story before Zack could interrupt. He recounted everything from Monday’s near beating to the note in Amy’s book.
“Let me see it,” Zack demanded the moment he had finished.
“I can’t show it to you.”
“Why the hell not?” His voice was low and threaded with anger.
Charles pressed his lips together and eyed him uneasily. Was Zack about to join the other jocks in beating him to a pulp? “I can’t show it to you because I already gave it back to Amy. That’s why I came here tonight.” Zack turned on his heel and sprinted back toward Amy’s house. “Where you going?”
“To get that note!”
“Good luck,” Charles muttered.
Seventeen
ALEX TOOK A deep breath and dove into the cool, clear water. The luxurious indoor pool was the one good thing about inheriting his dead parents’ mansion. The vast expanse of tranquil blue calmed him like nothing else. Swimming was a rhythmic release of pent-up energy and a mental stimulus that organized his thoughts.
The encounter with Charles had put Alex on edge. Mages had creative ways of tipping the odds in their favor, and he had too much at stake to risk Charles screwing things up. He decided the mage’s fate in less time than it took to blink. Taking him out was the safest path forward.
“Alex!” A muffled shout shattered the peace.
He choked on a mouthful of chlorinated water that burned his nostrils and made him gag. He surfaced with an explosive splash and searched for the person who had dared to disturb him. If his sister had followed him down here, she’d miss more than a few meals.
“Behind you,” a girl said and giggled.
Alex whirled around and stared in shocked contempt at the raven-haired beauty standing near the deep end. She resembled a fairy with her petite features and wide-eyed, falsely innocent gaze. He had never met this girl before but knew exactly who sh
e was. Her aura of darkness screamed her identity to the world. Darkness was the physical source of every Dark’s powers, and she controlled it with an iron fist. She even wrapped herself in it like a pretentious royal cloak.
This teenager, the supposed queen of all Darks, was an ancient and powerful wolf. She was the very first Dark to permanently escape hell, making the throne hers by default. Though her wolves revered her, most other Dark kingdoms did not. Why let her lead simply because she clawed her way up first? Many whispered she was clinically insane and unfit to rule, yet no one had managed to seize her throne. Not yet, anyway.
Alex pierced her with an icy glare. “What the hell are you doing here? Go back where you belong, you flea-bitten fur bag!”
“Is that any way to address your leader?” She gave him a wounded look from beneath her thick, dark lashes. He scrunched up his face. No one had mentioned she was such a talented actress.
He curled his lip and repeated his question. “I have no time for your games. What are you doing here?”
She twirled a lock of hair around her index finger. “Who said anything about games? I’m simply here to talk.”
“You’ve traveled an awfully long way to speak with me.” The queen’s castle was in Vancouver. Had she come clear across the country just to address him? Warning bells rang in his ears. Darks lost their grip on reality as they grew more in tune with the darkness, and she was the embodiment of Darkness itself. She was one hundred percent insane, and she wielded a massive amount of power. Unease pricked his skin.
“Don’t even think about doing what you’re thinking,” she ordered, failing to grasp how tangled her words were.
He pressed his lips together in a disconcerted frown. “How the hell do you know what I’m thinking?” He was used to being the only one in the room with mind-reading powers. The idea of her snooping around in his head made his gut clench with tension. He focused all his energy on ripping her free of his mind.
“Alex, try to understand. Whenever you use the darkness, you just reflect the abilities I bestow upon you. You are unable to hurt me with my own power.”
Boiling hot rage surged through his veins. “Tell me what you want so I can laugh in your face and do the exact opposite. You will never control me, you senile old bitch!” Alex held his breath and braced himself for an explosive queenly meltdown. Maybe he had gone too far. Maybe he hadn’t gone far enough. How far was it safe to push her?
She ignored his outburst entirely. “This plan of yours, don’t do it. You underestimate the Blood Moon’s power. It strives to control you, not I. Do you truly wish for that fate? The Blood Moon is a fickle master to serve. I expected you to have learned that much by now.” Her penetrating sapphire gaze bored relentlessly into his soul.
Pain lanced through him like the briefest of lightning strikes. He shot a volley of excuses at her to mask his emotion. His best defense was a brilliant offense. “I serve no one. The decisions I make are my own. Besides, why should they matter to you? You love chaos. The Blood Moon’s curse is probably something of your invention. One more desperate attempt to maintain your hold on the minds of all Darks.”
“You’re full of accusations today.” Her nostrils flared. At last he had hit a nerve. “Has it never occurred to you that there are other evil forces out there besides you and I? That curse is the devil’s work.”
“So what? We were created to serve him anyway.”
“Wrong!” Her sapphire eyes blazed with rage and glowed bloodred for an instant. “You serve me. Only me. Satan has no power over us except that which we allow him. Is that what you want? To fall for his traps? If you do it will cost you.”
“Oh really? Well, guess what? I have nothing left to lose.” A familiar stab of agony pierced his heart. “What do I have to fear from a hundred-year-old, half-crazed Dark with an overblown ego? You’re only saying this to frighten me into submission. That’s all your power relies on, fear. I am not afraid of you!”
Her eyes narrowed into furious slits. “Oh, no, Alex, you need not fear me. If you continue on your current course, it will be the Blood Moon’s fury you shall face.”
He snorted. Did she have any idea how demented she sounded? Queen of the Darks? Try Queen of the Crazies. He opened his mouth to make a snarky retort, but she vanished before he so much as took a breath.
Fury surged deep within him, and a tidal wave of pool water crashed over the place where she had stood. He took a deep, steadying breath. He refused to acknowledge how much their meeting had rattled him. A frosty flood of calm spread from his heart and through his veins. He would simply have to put his plan into motion before she had time to stop him. The note had only been the beginning. In twenty-four hours, Amy would be dead.
He toweled off, changed into his spare clothes, and checked his phone for messages. A text from Chelsea caught his eye. Baby, I know all about Amy’s weaknesses and would love to help you take her down. I beg of you, let me prove my loyalty.
His lips curled into a smirk. Chelsea’s desperation to prove herself reminded him of a lapdog. No, that was insulting to the dog. He doubted her usefulness but was curious what she had to offer. He slipped into her mind. She sensed his presence and opened her thoughts to him. He sucked in a breath as her knowledge sank in. Good work, baby. He caressed her mind. She shivered with pleasure. He broke the link, his lips parting in a feral grin. This was beyond perfect. When he was finished, Amy would wish she were dead.
He texted Nathan, eager to put his plan into motion. Isn’t it time we had a gang meeting?
Alex’s phone vibrated within seconds. Nathan had sent a group text to the members of Assassin’s Honor. Gang meeting at Jenkins’s house. 6:00 sharp.
Already there. See you in 20 ;) Ash replied.
His response made Alex laugh. Nathan kept forgetting that Ash lived with Peter. Ash’s parents had kicked him out after finding his stash of heroin, and Peter had been stuck with him ever since.
Peter lived in a shabby neighborhood, the sort women tried to avoid walking alone in at night. His house was a square, two-story structure, a plain, dilapidated box with no creativity or charm.
Alex sauntered through the door without knocking and glanced around the messy living room in distaste. Beer bottles and empty soda cans covered the coffee table, and a stack of empty pizza boxes rested on the chipped tile floor. The room had an overwhelming aroma of weed and unwashed socks.
Peter lounged on a stained cerulean sofa, watching his favorite TV show, The Walking Dead. Ash sat in a nearby armchair, busy sorting through several tiny bags of dark powder. Alex made a face. He hated drugs. They clouded the mind and made controlling the addict near impossible. Sifting through a druggy’s thoughts was like drowning in a murky whirlpool.
Ash’s girlfriend, Lara Tzadik, was glaring daggers at Alex from where she perched on Ash’s armrest. She was a cat Dark with distinct feline characteristics even in her human form. Lara was tall and slim with sleek blonde hair and piercing jade green eyes. She sat with her slender legs curled beneath her as she leaned seductively into Ash.
“Have a nice swim?” she asked with mock politeness. He flicked water droplets from his hair. She flapped her hands and screwed up her face. “Ew! Get away. You’re dripping everywhere!” Lara had an irrational aversion to water. Typical cat. He strolled into the kitchen to raid Peter’s fridge.
Wrappers littered the counter, the sink was overflowing with dirty dishes, and the trash can by the door was oozing brown liquid. He grimaced in disgust. These people were slobs.
“What are you and Nathan up to?” Lara had followed him into the kitchen like an obsessed feline fangirl.
“Who says we’re up to anything?” Why was everyone questioning him today?
“Oh, please. Don’t play dumb.” She fastened her gaze to his. “Ash told me all about that note of yours.”
Alex groaned. Ash couldn’t keep a secret if his life depended upon it. “You’re as irritating as that mangy mutt,” he grumbled under his brea
th.
Lara perked up. “Mangy mutt?”
He winced. He had forgotten about her heightened cat hearing. “None of your business.”
“God, Alex, you’re getting grumpier by the day.” She rested her hands on the counter and gazed at him with a fake look of concern. “Are you PMSing?”
“Piss off, Lara. I’m sure you and Ash have better things to do.”
“Better than annoying you? Never.” She studied his face. He found it hard to look away from her brilliant, jade green gaze. Alex turned his back on her and pretended to examine the sticky countertop. “What are you hiding? You look freaked, and you mentioned a dog. I only know of one mutt who scares you this much.”
He turned on the tap and filled a glass with water. He refused to discuss the queen’s visit with Lara. She’d call him weak and pathetic and shame him for showing fear.
Lara tugged on his sleeve. “What did she say to you? Whatever it was, I hope you heed her advice.”
“You support her?” he roared, forgetting his decision to avoid the subject. “After all the stupid things she’s done, you’re going to roll over and submit to her will?”
“The Dark is a powerful enemy. It’s easier to follow her than oppose her.” The Queen of the Darks had nicknamed herself The Dark as if she embodied their entire race. She was as arrogant as she was crazy.
Anger scorched through him like an out-of-control forest fire. He slammed his glass onto the counter. It shattered in his hand and soaked his shirt. Superior strength sometimes sucked. Lara bit back a giggle. He fixed her with a burning glare. “You’re pathetic for serving her. You fear a crazy lunatic. She’s a control freak, that’s all. She wants everything to center around her and as soon as it doesn’t, she tries to steal the limelight. Well, she has never scared me, and she sure as hell won’t stop me. I bow down to no one, especially the Queen!”
Lara took a hasty step away and bumped into the fridge. “Listen, Alex, I obey her because I’ve seen what happens to the people who disobey. I’ll stop arguing with you, but don’t expect me to stick around and clean up the mess you are making.”
Blood Moon's Fury: A Young Adult Fantasy Thriller (Curse of the Blood Moon Book 1) Page 11
