Angels & Demons: The Series

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Angels & Demons: The Series Page 8

by Megan Linski

“Sounds good,” Cairo replies. His arm lifts slightly, as if he’s going to put it around my shoulders, but then doesn’t. “I’ll drive.”

  Cairo listens to some sort of weird, techno dubstep music, which I don’t like and I can tell Thames doesn’t either, but nobody says anything. Cosmic bowling is pretty fun; they shut off all the lights and have crazy, colorful lasers spinning around during the game. I’m okay at it, but as I assumed, Cairo and Thames have perfect games. They get strikes almost every time, and whenever one of them misses his brother taunts him for it. The testosterone in the room is practically drowning me.

  After our third game, I notice a collection of people at the back of the bowling alley. They’re around our age, or a bit older. They aren’t playing a game, or waiting for a lane. Just staring at us. I keep bowling, but have an eye on them. Halfway through the match, they still haven’t moved.

  “Cairo, do you know those people?” I ask, nudging him. “They’ve been watching us for a while.”

  Cairo turns. His eyes narrow, as if he’s just noticed them. “Yeah. You gotta go, Cass.”

  “Me?” I say, aghast. “What did I do?”

  “Nothing,” he says quickly. “Just… my job, you know?”

  These creepy people work with Cairo? He’s obviously not on duty, so why are they stalking him? Are they pissed he’s not out hunting down a minotaur or whatever? Cairo takes a step forward, but Thames grabs his shoulder.

  “I’ll talk to them,” Thames says. “You take Cass home.”

  Cairo nods. “Thanks, bro.”

  Thames gives him a grim smile. This time, Cairo puts his hand on the small of my back and guides me out the other door, away from those people.

  “What was that all about?” I ask when we’re safely inside the truck. I feel thoroughly creeped out.

  “They’re checking up on me,” he says. “I was supposed to come in today and didn’t. I’ll probably hear about it later.”

  “You called in to hang out with me?” I ask. I feel honored and bad at the same time.

  “I deserve a day off. I haven’t had one in a very long time,” Cairo reassures me. “It’s not a big deal.”

  Cairo’s about to turn on his weird techno. Before his fingers hit the button, I say, “You and Thames seem to have a rivalry going on.”

  His finger retracts from the radio, thankfully. “Everything’s competitive for us. We can’t be together unless it’s some sort of competition,” he explains. “We fight too much.”

  “You seemed to get along well today.”

  “We were really close when we were little,” Cairo says. “I think both of us tried to be that way again today, for you.”

  “Aw. How sweet.”

  I’m planning to invite Cairo inside when I get back to the house, but when we arrive there’s someone standing at the edge of my driveway. It’s a girl with black hair, no older than I am.

  “What the hell?” I ask. I lean closer to the window to take a look, but Cairo swings his arm over and pushes me back in my seat.

  “She’s here for me,” he says. “Work again.”

  “What kind of crazy job sends people after you if you don’t show up?” I ask.

  He laughs in a hollow way. “One that you can never resign from.”

  “That’s awful,” I say. Cairo doesn’t reply.

  When he’s at the front of my house, he stops abruptly. I take that as a sign to get out right away.

  Once my feet hit the ground, Cairo turns to me.

  “I gotta go, Cass,” he says. “Sorry.”

  “I get it,” I say. “Bye.”

  I shut the door. Cairo speeds off to the end of my driveway. It’s weird watching him drive like that, because he never goes fast. He stops at the end. I feel a twinge of jealously as the black-haired girl gets in the truck beside him. I’m left standing alone on the porch long after both of them are gone.

  I text Thames to ask him what’s going on. He doesn’t text back.

  I know better than to ask either boys what happened that Saturday, so I don’t ask. I try not to let my mind wander on what secrets the brothers are hiding. Instead, I focus on my grades, and go to every single one of Cairo’s games. Thames is usually there with me, and if he isn’t, then the girls come.

  One game I find myself sitting absolutely alone, but it’s not boring at all. I’m obsessed with watching Cairo play. I swear he could make it in the NFL if he wanted to.

  Thames and I practically hang out every day, playing video games at his place or bumming around town. Cairo and I, not so much. All his time is taken up by football practice, and whenever he’s not there, he’s somewhere else. I’m guessing it’s got something to do with the “law enforcement” thing he was talking about, but I promised Thames I wouldn’t pry, so I don’t, though it’s killing me.

  A month passes. It gets into late November, and surprise surprise, Cairo’s team wins district championships. Isolde has to work Thanksgiving, which I’m initially thankful for, but on the day of I find myself exceedingly lonely. Even if it were just Isolde and I here, it would be awkward, but at least I wouldn’t be by myself.

  I wonder what Cairo and Thames are doing. Are they spending the day together, as a family? Or is the rift between them enough to divide them during even the most important of times?

  I almost end up texting Thames to see if he’ll come over, but I don’t. If he’s enjoying the day with his family, I’m not going to ruin it, because I know the minute I call he’ll get in his truck and come over here.

  Will this be what the rest of my life will be like? Holidays spent alone, me hanging around my house bored all day, wishing I had someone to spend my life with?

  The first week of December whirls by after that. By this time, the entire U.P. is covered in nearly four feet of snow. It takes me fifteen minutes to walk up my driveway after getting off the bus one day, though I don’t mind. The entire world is a winter wonderland, a magical world straight out of a children’s book. The big, puffy snowflakes fluttering to the ground make everything seem so pretty and mystical.

  The enchantment comes to a screeching halt when I see Mrs. Oltry, my social worker, sitting at the kitchen table with Isolde. Both of them appear very concerned.

  “Cassia.” Isolde pats the chair beside her. “Come sit down.”

  I remain standing. “What’s going on?” I ask.

  Both women glance at each other. Oltry takes a quick breath. “It seems more evidence has come up against Eric Taylor,” Mrs. Oltry informs me. “They want to add some years to his prison sentence.”

  “What does that have to do with me?” I say quickly.

  Oltry shifts uncomfortably. “Some of the evidence has been connected back to the time you spent with Mr. Taylor. You might have to return to Ann Arbor, to testify as a witness in some of the court proceedings.”

  I shake my head. “No. Absolutely not.”

  “Miss Delamore, your testimony is very valuable in this case,” Oltry insists. “It could mean the difference between him being behind bars longer or being set free.”

  “I told you I’m not going back there. I won’t face him again,” I say. “What more do you people want?”

  “Cassia, listen,” Isolde says kindly. “It won’t be for much longer than a few days. You can make your statement, then come back. You won’t even have to miss school.”

  “Are you mental? I said no!” I shout. I know I’m being disrespectful to Isolde, but she can’t make me do this. No one can.

  “Miss Delamore, I’m afraid you don’t have a choice,” Oltry says firmly. “If you’re summoned, you have to appear by law.”

  “I’d love to see them try,” I snarl. I turn on my heel. “The answer is no.”

  “Cassia!” Isolde reaches out to grab my arm, but I shake it off. I storm up to my room and slam the door behind me, locking it.

  I crumple against the door and sink downward. I start bawling. I take deep breaths, to calm myself down, but they only make me cry more
. The mere mention of forcing me to see Eric again has got me in a full-on panic attack.

  It takes me a full ten minutes to chill out. When I finally do, I’m still shaking. My mind is quickly formulating a plan.

  They want me to testify against Eric, again? Nope. No way. I swore to myself the last time I saw him in court would be the last time. I won’t put myself through that kind of hell again.

  I unzip my backpack and empty it on the bed, shaking the contents free. I start packing things I need, only the bare essentials like toiletries, a few snacks, and some spare change Isolde gave me whenever I went out with Thames. I finish by stuffing some heavy clothes inside, because it’s winter in the U.P. and I’m going to be doing a lot of walking.

  Planes. I want to be around planes. I’ll sleep in the hangar. Yeah, that’ll work. I’ll steal some food, hang out there. Get a job. Somehow hide out until they’re no longer looking for me, or until I’m finally eighteen and not their problem anymore.

  The terrain in the woods will be impossible to get through, especially with all the snow. I’ll probably be killed by a bear, cougar, or some other wild thing while trying to make my way to the nearest airport (that’s if I don’t freeze to death) but it sure beats being dragged back to Eric.

  I look out my window. In the few minutes I’ve been inside, a blizzard has started up. Perfect. Just what I need.

  A winter storm isn’t going to stop me. I toss my bag on my shoulder and open the window. I manage to grab hold of the drainpipe, and shimmy downwards until I have a good grip on the gutter.

  I let go, and drop down ten feet. Luckily, there’s a thick powder underneath my butt to soften the landing. Snow goes flying everywhere as I come crashing down. If I had made that drop in the summer, I’d have broken my legs.

  I stand up and brush the snow off my jeans. I’m already freezing, and I’ve only got a few more hours left of daylight before it gets dark.

  Oh well. Better get moving, then.

  I bolt for the safety of the trees. When I’m hidden inside the snowy forest, I grip the straps of my bag and start out into the thick, white blizzard.

  No matter what, I’m not going back.

  It is really freaking cold outside.

  My arms are tightly wrapped around my sides as I tramp through the knee-deep snow. The wind’s still howling, and my thin winter jacket isn’t enough to keep out the freezing temperatures.

  I swear my eyelashes are frozen. Everything’s frozen. Each step keeps getting harder to take. I’m so tired… I’m half in a mind to crash right where I am and sleep forever.

  “Cassia!”

  I groan, and turn around. Cairo’s in the woods, wrapped head to toe in thick Carhart clothing. He’s certainly prepared. He barrels through the snow and slides to a stop at my side, like he’s in some stupid commercial for mountain clothing and of course has the perfect body to show off, even in Siberia.

  “What are you doing out here?” I ask. My teeth chatter.

  “Working,” he responds vaguely before touching my skin. “Cassia, you’re cold as ice.”

  He doesn’t bother to ask before he swoops me up into his arms. “We’ve got to get you inside, before you develop hypothermia.”

  “Put me down!” I demand, giving a few weak hits to his chest. They’re really pathetic. “I said let me go!”

  “Why do you have your backpack?” he asks, ignoring my mouse punches. His voice comes out in a growl. “Answer me.”

  “I’m running away,” I say. “Happy?”

  “Running away? I thought you liked Isolde?” His lumbering strides rock me back and forth as he hurries through the forest. It’s quite soothing.

  “Isolde isn’t the problem,” I mumble, feeling rather drowsy.

  Cairo shakes his head. “Never mind. You can tell me later. Cassia, don’t fall asleep!” he orders me roughly. He shakes me up and down to keep me awake, but it’s too late. Already, my eyes are closing.

  Without any protest, I surrender to the darkness.

  A slamming door snaps me awake. I’m aware of my surroundings enough to gather we’re in Thames’ cabin.

  I must’ve been in here for awhile. I’m not half as cold as before, more of a regular temperature, but I still feel freezing. At least I know I won’t have frostbite.

  That is, if I didn’t get it already.

  “Cairo? Cass?” Heavy boots come stomping over. “Oh my God, Cass. What happened to her?”

  “She was walking through the forest. Yes, in a blizzard,” Cairo says quickly. “I need you to warm her up.”

  Thames’ concerned face comes into view. “All right. Give her to me.”

  Thames shifts toward the fireplace and raises his hand. I’m not sure if I’m imagining things, but a blast of fire shoots out of his palm and onto the logs resting there. They instantly burst into flames, and the cabin is filled with light.

  Cairo hands me off to Thames. Once I’m in his arms, I feel my cold skin radiate against his warm touch. Slowly, my entire body heats. Thames carries me to the fire and sits down, placing me in his lap. Every inch of him is like being wrapped in a comforting flame that surrounds me from head to toe.

  Cairo doesn’t react to what Thames just did. He just sits on the couch and stares at us. Gradually, I regain full consciousness. I sit up and look around, brushing hair out of my eyes. Cairo seems relieved, while Thames is totally pissed.

  “You shot fire out of your hand,” I say groggily.

  He erupts. “What the hell were you doing out there, Cass? Do you know how close you were to getting frostbite? If Cairo hadn’t come in when he had…”

  “Thames,” Cairo says.

  “This is completely irresponsible.” Thames puts me down, gets up, and starts pacing around the room. “You could’ve died out there, and who knows if anyone could’ve found you? Do you know anything about living up here?”

  “Thames, take a walk and cool down.” Cairo gets off the couch and stands in front of him. “I can take it from here. Just scout the perimeter and make sure I wasn’t seen.”

  Thames makes an angry noise. He then walks out the front door, slams it behind him and goes out into the snowstorm, t-shirt and all.

  “He didn’t take a jacket,” I note.

  “He doesn’t need it,” Cairo says. He goes into the kitchen. There’s a few shuffling noises. When he comes back, he’s holding a mug of cocoa, which he presses firmly into my hands. “Here.”

  He takes a blanket and drapes it over my shoulders. He then sits across from me, cross-legged. Our knees are touching. I take a sip of the cocoa, and he says, “So you noticed Thames’ little magic trick.”

  “Nothing about you boys surprises me anymore,” I say. “It’s not a big deal.”

  Both of us stare into the fire for a moment. Then, “So do you wanna tell me what made you run away?”

  I shift. “No.”

  “I think I deserve to know, after you scared the crap out of me and Thames. You’re not getting out of here until you tell me.”

  “Well, you’re bound to be waiting for a really long time.”

  He sighs, and rubs his eyes. “You’re so stubborn.”

  “Glad you’re finally catching on.” I take another sip of cocoa. Cairo stares at me again, Unable to hold up against his gaze, I say, “My social worker stopped by. She wanted me to testify against one of my old foster parents. If you could call him that.”

  “Testify?” His eyebrow raises. “Was he a bad guy or something?”

  “There isn’t a word to describe how terrible he was,” I mumble. “I just promised myself that after I went to court against him, I’d never let myself be around him again. Now they want to drag it all back up.”

  “He was that bad that you’d rather freeze in the snow than face him?”

  “Yes.” Our eyes connect. His gaze pierces mine, and an invisible connection passes between us. There’s that electricity again. It’s so familiar. I barely notice it.

  Finally, his eyes
fall away. Cairo knows not to press anymore.

  I fiddle with my empty cup. I find tears welling up in my eyes as I whisper, “I miss my mom.”

  “I’m sorry, Cassia.” Cairo scoots closer, so he’s next to me instead of facing me head-on. He puts his arm around me and pulls me in. I put my head on his shoulder and try to keep myself from crying.

  “I’ve been in the foster care system since I was five, and I’ve hated every minute of it,” I say. “I just want to be eighteen so I can be done.”

  “I know.” He puts his head on mine. “Cassia, what exactly was your plan? Were you just going to walk until you found somewhere else to stay?”

  “I wanted to find an airport. So I could be around planes.”

  “Planes?” he seems confused.

  “It’s so stupid. But I want to be a pilot.” I sniff, and wipe my nose. “That’s been my dream ever since I was a little girl.”

  “A pilot, huh?” There’s a smile in his voice. “I could totally see you doing that.”

  “I just like the thought of flying, you know?” I toy with the edges of the blanket. “It’s one of the reasons I’m obsessed with birds, particularly owls. If you don’t like a place, you can just fly away to a different one. You don’t have to be there anymore. You’re not trapped. You’re free to do whatever you want and go wherever you want to go.”

  “That makes sense.”

  “My plan was to move out once I graduated and get a job, put myself through aviation school. But it’s really expensive, and hard, plus there aren’t that many women pilots. I doubt I’ll make it.”

  I drop my head. “But I guess that’s the gypsy coming out in me. I don’t want anything tying me down or holding me back.”

  “You’re Romani?” Cairo asks. He’s surprised.

  “Half,” I say. “My mother was a pure-blooded gypsy. She fell in love with a Gorger boy.”

  “What’s a Gorger?”

  “A non-gypsy,” I explain. “She was engaged to a gypsy boy when she was sixteen, but she left him at the altar to run off with some Gorger.”

  “Sounds really romantic.”

  “It was a big deal.” I draw away from Cairo. “Romani people don’t marry outside their own culture. She practically betrayed her own kind. She left with my dad and got pregnant with me, but after I was born he left. Mom knew she couldn’t return home, because they wouldn’t accept her or me, so she stayed in Michigan. That’s how I ended up here.”

 

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