Ignoring her, his angelic form paced from one end of the bedroom to the other, chin resting on his chest, thinking.
“Did Ronan drop any hints when you drove her home?” I want info.
His hand hung off his neck. “She acted contrite, saying she plans to stop communicating with the dead. And totally lying when she said, they’re not really my friends because they don’t always do what I ask. But, I sense an undercurrent, and it’s not good,” he said. “Her witchcraft compares to the most adept of sorcerers.” Charged with energy, his body seemed to buzz like an electrical power unit. “I feel this pull, like I need to be in two places at once. I can’t explain it.”
“I feel it too?” The stimulating energy consumed them. “Do you need to leave, again? Convene with your people, like you said before?” She pointed up, meaning heaven.
Markus spun, bracketing his hands on her dresser. “I can’t leave. Not yet. The darkness draws near.”
Shivers threaded up her spinal column. She sat on the bed, pulled her legs to her chest, and stared at the wall. Jumbled thoughts stirred her brain as advancing shadows darkened her bedroom. She looked at Markus, but he was gone. Someone downstairs was calling her name. She hiked down for dinner.
I HAVE SUNK INTO THE
MIRE OF THE DEEP
THE CONFRONTATION AT Taste had exasperated Jordan. What could she, or should she, say to Ronan? Do you know Mark is an angel? Are you a conniving bitch-witch conspiring with the Order that killed my father? She held her tongue in check and waited for Ronan’s next move.
As planned, on the last day of school before the holiday break, Thrill’s Chevelle, crammed with the usual gang, picked her up on Friday to hang at Hidden Lake. On the front seat, a pleased Ronan looked prim and pretty in pink. Jordan bristled on the drive, obsessed with the urge to smack her in the head.
Bracing for a winter day, she pulled on her gloves as they emerged from the car. Her vision adapted to the brilliance of a whitewashed landscape. Impressed, she gazed at frost-encased tree limbs glistening with frozen droplets of ice, which gave them a surreal clarity.
“This place is awesome,” she said. “I can’t believe I didn’t know it was here.”
“It’s a great hangout away from townies. We come here a lot.” Thrill gestured to numerous idling vehicles. “We’re lucky today. The snowplow must’ve come through.”
Jordan flipped up her hood, warding off the chill, as they forged a path to a rusty steel bridge. Car doors began to open, and people garbed in layers of winter garments descended upon the once deserted area, yammering noisily.
“Hey, Ronan, Beth and friends are here,” Paisley announced.
Thrill glared at her. “What the fuck. Can’t we just have a good time without your constant commentary?”
Paisley blinked watery eyes.
“No trouble, okay?”
“A little harsh, William,” Ronan sneered, clearly liking her tongue-lashing.
Is she gaining power by division?
Ronan shouldered a pouty-faced Paisley off to the side. “You went to his house last night, didn’t you?”
Jordan slowed to eavesdrop.
“What’s the big deal?” Paisley snuffled. “So, I like to grovel.”
“Stop it. He’s not interested.”
“He was before Meg, real interested. You-you could make him interested again.”
“I took care of Meg. The rest was up to you. Thrill has moved on, and I suggest you do the same. I’m not into love potions.”
“Yeah, except for when it suits you,” Paisley said in a whimper.
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, nothing.”
Jordan hurried on, and the girls fell in behind her. Walking onto the bridge and out of breath, she teetered over the hand railing. “Cool bridge.” Blood rushed to her head, making her dizzy.
“Hey, little one.” Thrill snatched her away from the rail. “It’s not a good day to jump.”
Sunshine flared in his amber eyes, filling her with odd sensations, and his winsome smile added color to her already rosy cheeks. Breaking his gaze, she stooped, clumped snow into a tiny ball and popped it into her mouth.
Revelry drew their attention to the clearing. A football smoked through the air. And all eyes tracked its spiraling flight until it landed in two feet of snow. Running in knee-high drifts was like watching football in slow motion. Beth’s friends, Kristen and Jeff, lumbered to the landing site and excavated with gloved hands in pursuit of the prized pigskin. Shouts of victory heralded when Kristen held the ball aloft like a trophy.
“That looks fun.” Jordan wanted to play, and started the trek to the clearing.
Rolly barged to the front like a locomotive, hands and feet flying in the air. His burly body channeled a passage through the cumbersome snow. “I call dibs on Thrill,” he hollered. “He’s on my team.”
Trailing in Rolly’s wake, Jordan recognized the boy now lobbing the football. He was in her math class. She lost sight of the ball’s ascent in the sun. Markus and Beth, sheltering their eyes, searched skyward. Beth pointed, and Markus lunged for the ball, snagging it easily. Beth tackled him around his waist, falling backward into a powdery drift, and laughter ensued.
Ronan yanked Jordan’s wrist, spinning her around. “Have you walked on water lately?”
“Not recently?” said a wary Jordan.
“Follow me.” Ronan towed her along, Paisley and Cayden following dutifully. Ronan paused at the embankment, where snow was piled high by the occasional snowplows.
“Come on.” Ronan began to scale the bank.
“Is this safe?”
“It’s probably iced over by now. We used to skate here all the time,” Cayden said.
“My dad brings his row boat and fishes here in the summer.” Paisley was a sure-footed climber.
A smidge uncertain, Jordan relented and clambered up the embankment. Losing her balance, she tripped, tumbled sideways and heard hooting laughter from her friends.
“Looky, looky who’s watching,” Paisley said.
Markus and Thrill were inclined against the bridge’s railing. At the sight, Jordan’s breath caught in her throat. A giant halo enclosing Markus. Big enough to include Thrill. Somewhat paranoid, she wondered what Ronan was thinking?
“Wow,” Cayden spoke first, in awe. “Look at the way the sun is shining on them.”
“Yeah, like a couple of angels.” Ronan waved to the boys.
They tipped their heads in response.
Jordan got the hint and couldn’t shake the coldness scraping into her bones.
It was so unlike her to be uncoordinated as she toppled to the frozen shoreline. Giggling, the girls each grabbed an elbow and lugged her to her feet. Carefully testing the ice, they eased onto the lake.
“It’s pretty solid,” Paisley claimed.
“This is great.” Ronan skittered across the ice, slipping and sliding to the opposite shore.
Demonstrating an inability to run on ice, Jordan skidded and fell, landing on her butt. She chuckled at her unusual lack of agility, got to her feet, and brushed the wet flakes from her backside. She felt justified in blaming her new-fangled boots with raised tread.
They shuffled and circled, releasing each other to glide over the polished surface. Oh, yeah. Now this is what I’m talking about. Their clowning attracted the football enthusiasts, and with a flurry of action, everyone exhibited their abilities to scrabble and slide on the ice.
“It’s getting crowded. Let’s go further up,” Ronan suggested.
Interlocking elbows, the girls scuffled away from the others. They rounded a bend, and the noise of gaiety faded.
“I think we should go back.” Cayden sounded cautious.
“Don’t be a baby.” Ronan nudged Cayden’s shoulder.
“She’s right, Ronan, we’re too far out.” Surprisingly, Paisley took Cayden’s side.
“Okay, but one more slide.” She dared, signaling them onward.
/>
Ronan kept sliding with Paisley and Cayden swooshing after her. But Jordan remained motionless, her feet suctioned in place. She tried to budge, but her boots seemed frozen to the ice. The girls whirled and looked back at her.
A contemptuous façade tainted Ronan’s features as her lips moved. With her extrasensory hearing, Jordan heard the summoning words. Damn, I’m in trouble.
“C’mon, Jordan,” Cayden coaxed. “Don’t be scared. It’s okay.”
Not entirely invisible to Jordan, a shadowy entity coiled her body. She squirmed and fought the pressurized embrace. There was a thunderous crack, and the thick ice shifted beneath her feet. Terrorized, her body ripped through the frozen surface.
Desperately paddling, she peered through icy eyeballs. The entity tightened its hold, dragging her to a watery grave. The ominous force heaved her down into the murkiness, and soon, her limbs became rigid from the freezing water. I can’t breathe. I’m not going to make it.
Her mouth automatically opened for life-saving oxygen. The deluge of frigid water trampled her throat, burning her insides.
A PREMONITION HAD alerted Markus. He streaked around the bend in time to witness Jordan in the menacing clutches of a shadowy form. The ice cracked, and the creature dragged her beneath the surface. Markus ran as fast as humanly possible. Afraid he was too late, he yanked off his coat and plunged into the gaping hole, instantly transfiguring.
The entity vanished when it saw a fearsome angel bearing down on him. Jordan floated lifelessly like a rag doll, her long hair splayed like floating seaweed. Faster than a jet engine, Markus shot her to the surface.
An anxious crowd waited, keeping back from the crumbling fissure. Venturing on his belly, Thrill gripped Jordan under the arms, fishing her from the water. Markus hoisted himself up to the cracked ledge.
TORTUROUS CONVULSIONS TORE through Jordan’s chest. Recurrent thumping caused her unbearable pain. A mouth covered hers. The burning sensation returned tenfold, choking and coughing. Water spewed from her distended lungs. Limp and spent, she flopped as many hands labored to remove her coat and boots. Swaddled in warmth, and on the brink of consciousness, she opened her eyes to witness dozens of fretful faces above her.
A pair of strong arms scooped her off the ice, crushing her to his chest. Markus. Praying, his sweet breath touched her face. Effortlessly, he handled the embankment with Thrill jogging ahead to the car.
“I–I’m o–k–kay. L–let me d–down,” she croaked, trying to extricate herself from his arms.
He only held her tighter.
Thrill opened his car door and Markus got in, holding Jordan in his hot grasp. He chafed her bluish, pimpled skin.
“I s–said, I–I’m o–o–kay.” Her teeth chattered. In actuality, she was beginning to sweat.
From the driver’s seat, Thrill glanced at her glassy eyes and ashen flesh, which was turning pinkish under Mark’s hands. “Where to?” he asked.
“We should take her to the hospital,” Markus said, his strong fingers kneading her body.
She wrenched up, ready to object.
“Take her home.”
Revived after suffering his abrasive ministrations, and with the thirty-mile drive, Jordan edged off his lap, though he’d kept his arm sheltering her shoulders. The ordeal had zapped her energy. She closed her eyes and leaned her head on his chest.
Jordan didn’t wake until they reached her house. That’s when she noticed the boy’s drenched clothes. Toasty warm in Markus’s pea coat, she felt a twinge of guilt as she observed the tendrils that hung like dank rope, framing his face.
She started to remove his coat, but he stopped her hand. “Keep it for now. Do you want me to carry you?”
“That’s a definite no,” she said.
Thrill held up Jordan’s sodden coat and new boots. “You might want these.”
Lugging her wet things, she attempted to sneak into the house. Fastening the door, she jumped when her grandfather barked, “Why the heck are you all wet?”
“Really had a great time in the snow.” She tore up the stairs before he had a chance to drill more questions.
The worst was yet to come—telling her mom.
FRENZIED, SEELEY’S COMPLEXION turned a whiter shade of pale then heightened into a clench-mouthed blowfish as Jordan recounted the incident. She just wanted sleep, but Seeley kept vigil, waiting for Markus to appear. She snuggled under her covers while her mom sat on the chair, legs crossed and bouncing her ankle at rapid speed.
“What’s keeping him?” Seeley checked the time. “It’s after midnight, for crying out loud. Doesn’t he realize you need to get some sleep?”
“He’ll come.”
In a blink of an eye, Markus towered in the small bedroom, his expression solemn.
“How could this happen?” Seeley vaulted off the chair, hands on hips.
“Now I know why I needed to stay for a while longer.” He pressed his brow with the heel of his palm. “Two people could’ve died today, thanks to Davian.
Jordan jumped up. “Two people?”
“You and Thrill.” Markus peered between his hands. “If I hadn’t been there, Thrill would’ve gone into the lake to save you. You both would’ve drowned.”
“You saw what could’ve happened?” asked Jordan. “And by saving me you changed both of our destinies, like we changed Beth’s when she choked at the dance?”
“Correct. Like I explained once before I receive insight beyond the course of human time, when my presence alters situations.”
“And that thing was Davian?”
“Yes, a rogue spirit, not easy to get rid of.”
“Ronan tried to drown me?” She couldn’t believe it. One minute they’d been having fun, and the next…
“Why, Markus?” asked Seeley. “Why can’t something simply be done with this…this girl?”
“You know it’s not that easy, Seeley,” he said. “Should I affront my Father’s law and kill her?” He wavered then regained resolve. “Ronan’s loveless and abusive childhood twisted her mind. She finds solace in the supernatural by unleashing vile spirits she calls friends. And, as we all know, her skill has caught the interest of the Order. They’ve infected her with harmful power.”
“Killing her would be the best solution,” Seeley said in an irrational moment. Her rash statement gave way to bottled-up emotions, breaking into a strained sob.
Jordan laid an arm over her mom’s shoulders. “That was a bit harsh, Mom, but don’t beat yourself up. ‘Cause deep down, we’re in agreement.”
“Oh, Jordan.”
When the flood subsided, Markus said, “I’ll be assembling with Ezekiel and others for a brief reconnaissance. As I’ve told Jordan before, anomalies have come to our attention. We will regroup and take action. I’ve been away far too long, and I’ve been feeling more human than angelic.”
“I can’t believe you’d leave us now.” Seeley wiped her face. “With this girl prowling around, who knows what she’ll pull next?”
“Ronan doesn’t scare me in the least,” Jordan lied, and looked to her angel.
He knew. He knew she was putting on a show of bravery, her ambiguity clear to him.
“It’s those flimsy spirits that are so hard to get a hold of. That’s bothersome.”
“Stay strong.” He drew a tense breath and evaporated before their eyes, leaving them rather somber and depressed.
EVEN IN MY JOY
DARKNESS TRAILS ME
AFTER THE HOLIDAYS and the celebration of Jordan’s seventeenth birthday, Seeley felt brave enough to arrange an interview with Asa. She declined his invitation to meet at his mansion on Delaware Avenue, one of his many properties. They agreed to meet at Spot Coffee on Chippewa Street, during the hectic lunch hour.
Classic and fashionable in a Lauren herringbone coat, each bronze button embossed with an iconic symbol, Asa portrayed a man of the world. He systematically answered her financial questions. It wasn’t until she touched upon his parents and chi
ldhood that he became ill tempered.
“My parents provided me with a childhood of torture.” He breezed his manicured fingers over his hair. “They swore they’d beat the devil out of me. I don’t think they succeeded.”
“Have you ever been engaged or married?”
“Ah-h, the American institution of wedded bliss,” Asa scoffed. “I fell for lovely Leela. I was hardly twenty, but when push came to shove, my satisfaction with her dwindled. The poor thing died of a heart attack at the ripe age of twenty-four.” Boredom slipped into his tone. “Then Olivia tempted me into matrimony when I was thirty. She was quite entertaining and pleasurable, for a while. Olivia and I shared the same interests. But alas, a fluke accident—her car careened off a cliff in Mexico. So sad.”
She read the lie in his disturbing eyes. He’d killed those women. She had little doubt.
Asa examined her from under hooded lids as he ran his tongue over his thin lips. “Gratification comes in countless forms, my dear.”
Sick to her stomach, she changed the topic. “To whom do you attribute your success?” She knew the answer. It was as plain as the hawk-like nose on his face.
“Let’s just say that I dragged myself from the gutter, successfully achieving—” He made air quotes with his fingers, his voice dripping pure arrogance. “—the American dream.”
She jumped on his statement. “You’ve achieved the American dream? What, in your own opinion, is the American dream?’” she asked, scribbling notes.
His gaze roved over her hair and caramel woolen coat, which parted to reveal slender legs encased in knee-high suede boots. A ghost of a haughty grin increased the crinkles around his eyes. Seeley swung her legs under the table, away from his scrutiny.
“Money, money, and more money,” he said dryly. “Wealth provides everything.”
“Is that what you want me to write?” she said, repelled by his unbridled avarice. “I will gladly put that in quotes.” She drummed the pen on the table. “And what about your extracurricular activities? The public likes to know about a businessman’s religious associations.”
Wickedly They Come (The Wickedly Series Book 1) Page 15
