Wickedly They Come (The Wickedly Series Book 1)

by Cathrina Constantine

  Jordan attempted to uncouple his hold, saying, “I don’t think I’m ready.”

  But Thrill locked his legs around her. “Let’s go,” he hollered.

  Jeff and Kristin heaved and sent them over the ledge. Scared out of her mind, they sped toward the tumult below. Her scream reverberated along the ridge, and Thrill added his mimicking squeals. Striking a bump, they were airborne for brief seconds before landing and sliding to the bottom of the hill. Coasting about twenty feet, they hit another bump, which flung them tumbling on their backs.

  “Are you okay?” Thrill asked.

  Trounced with snow and laughing rowdily, Jordan said, “That was great!”

  Hand in hand, they traipsed up the hill. On their next jaunt, they followed Beth and Markus’s example. Thrill lay on his stomach with Jordan on his back. Her arms choked him to death, holding on for dear life. She planted at the bottom and seeing her snow caked face, riotous whooping came from Thrill.

  Jordan turned into an unstoppable sledding guru. She clasped a tube across her chest, and recklessly flung herself over the edge head first, swooshing over the snowy pathway. At the bottom of the hill, instead of slowing, the tube picked up speed. The jouncing tube sliced near a tree and slid into the woods.

  Close call. Bitter wind wailed through the trees, bending the branches and creating a deafening din. She instantly sensed she wasn’t alone.

  Suddenly suspended in midair, Jordan barely had time to register what was happening. She was thrown backward, just missing an ice-covered rock. Adapting her vision to the shadowed grove, she didn’t see a human figure, only an obscure shade. By manipulating her mental ability she snared a nearby rock, it flew, passing through the shade.

  “Jordan.” Markus appeared, flinging a tube behind him. Mottled moonlight filtering through pine boughs fell on him as he glided toward her. As if he knew or felt the presence, he turned his head in its direction.

  “Over there.” She pointed.

  Taken off-guard, Markus was heaved four feet in the air and smashed against a huge tree trunk. Huddled in a drift, he recovered, transforming into an angel—an angel in overdrive. He raised his hand. Lightning sizzled from his palm like a javelin, striking the imperceptible being.

  “A-a-awesome—” Her were words cut short as a stranglehold rounded her neck and winched her upward. She kicked her legs only to come in contact with nothing. She gurgled, trying to get Markus’s attention. There were two.

  Markus spun and threw himself at the shady creature. Its grip loosened. She fell into a drift.

  Gulping oxygen, she watched as Markus and the obscure creature crashed from tree to tree. Ablaze of light and dark, they fought their way out of sight.

  She waited, every nerve in high alert as crisp footsteps approached. Looking for the angelic glow, none was seen. Not her dazzling angel—but human, Mark stooped and lugged her from the powdery drift.

  “Why don’t you use that lightning thingy more often?” she asked. “It’d save a lot of time.”

  “It zaps my strength too quickly.” His fair hair was a mesh of soaked whorls, and he sounded out of breath. “I don’t like this,” he said, irked. “Why are they seeking you so frantically? It’s almost as if there was a price on your head.”

  “I must have a bull’s-eye from hell on my back.” She chortled then turned serious. “Why haven’t you come to see me? You’re my angel, right?”

  Clomping footsteps foiled any explanation. They prepared for another beastie.

  “Jordan—Mark?” Thrill yelled. He stumbled through the trees to find Mark shielding Jordan. “Am I interrupting?”

  “No, Thrill.” An unflappable Markus patted Jordan’s snow-covered jacket and jeans. “Jordan hit a tree. She seems a little dazed.”

  “Oh.” In an uncertain inflection, he said, “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah, fine.” She swatted at Markus’s obliging hands.

  Hightailing into the Ridge’s casino for hot cocoa, they found everyone jostling around a stoned fireplace, where a roaring blaze crackled. Shrugging off gloves, scarves, and coats, they bathed in the heat.

  “Ahh, this feels good.” Beth slipped off her mittens and raised her hands to the warmth, while Kristen and Jeff heated their backsides. “Wow, Jordan, you could’ve been hurt.”

  “Missed the tree by inches.” She knelt on her heels, facing the fire.

  “I’ve never seen anyone sled that far into the woods,” Thrill said. “Seemed pretty unusual.” Heads bobbed, agreeing.

  “I think I’m done for the night,” she said to Thrill. “Mind if we leave?”

  “Nah, I’m freezing. Let’s get out of here. See you guys later.” He swigged the rest of his cocoa and helped Jordan to her feet.

  “Bye.” She snared Markus’s glinting eyes. “See you later.”

  Quiet on the ride home, Thrill finally looked at her. “It was strange.”

  “What was strange?” She tried sounding casual.

  “I saw you sledding too close to the trees and was ready to come after you when Markus just about ripped the tube from my hands and flew down the hill.”

  “Oh?”

  “And when neither of you walked out, I thought you must be hurt. I had to wait until Kristin walked up with her tube to follow. I saw strange flashes of light.”

  She trembled to think of Thrill being trapped in that skirmish. “I was shaky and Markus made me rest for awhile.”

  A muscle jumped in his jaw. He knows I’m lying.

  Damp and cold, he walked her to the front door. Unanticipated, he held her face and kissed her warmly on the lips. “I’ll call, okay?”

  She didn’t respond, though, her mouth spread with an inane grin.

  Essentially floating up the stairs, she turned into the bathroom. Passing the mirror, she groaned at her wet, snarly hair and shiny red, runny nose. She groaned again.

  “Jordan, how was your night?” Seeley called softly.

  She slipped into her mom’s bedroom, noting the journal in her lap. Not divulging the eerie spirits, she said, “Sledding’s a riot. I forgot how much fun it can be. And Thrill’s nice.”

  “Really? How nice?”

  “He kissed me.”

  Her mom’s eyes gleamed with interest.

  “I think I flubbed it.”

  “Did he ask to see you again?”

  “He said he’d call.”

  “You did fine.” Seeley smoothed the pages of her father’s journal.

  Jordan’s room felt chilly, and she quickly crawled beneath her cozy quilt, a smile adorning her face. What’s Thrill thinking right now? She ran fingertips over her chapped lips, recalling the pressure of his mouth.

  The violent episode in the woods and the fact she’d hidden it from her mom, came back to haunt her. I can’t have a boyfriend. Thrill could get hurt, physically and mentally if he remained in her zany life. Now she understood why her mom hadn’t dated after her father’s death.

  Her eyes drooped waiting for Markus, and she decided to snooze until he showed.

  It wasn’t her angel singing in her ears, but her alarm clock waking her in the morning.

  THE CROSSROARDS HAVE

  BECOME AN ABOMINATION

  THE CHURCH WAS dark except for the perpetual candle beside the tabernacle. Despairing, Father James knelt in the first pew, bracing his head in his hands. Beleaguered with uncertainty about the possessive demons on the rise, constituting loss of life and impurity, he wept for the end of innocence.

  Raising a teary face, he spoke to his predecessor, Edmund Posluszny. “Edmund, ungodliness ravages the world. Even our own little village is suffering. We need help.” He paused to take a tattered breath. “Are we losing the battle?”

  A hiss drew the priest’s head upward to the high-rising crucifix. The sole candle fluttered, casting sporadic shadows on Christ’s Corpus. A massive serpent rose from the top beam of the cross. Its split tongue flickered. The serpent coiled sinuously around the corpus, encasing it. A faint sp
linter sounded as the beast applied force, crushing the granite.

  Father James stared at the apparition, transfixed. The cross teetered. He gasped, thinking, It will topple.

  “Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle,” he murmured in a harried voice. “Be our safeguard against the wickedness and snares of the devil. By the power of God, cast into hell Satan and all the evil spirits who prowl the world seeking the ruin of souls.”

  The statue of Christ flushed with color—breathing to life. Seraphim and cherubim filled the sanctuary with splendor. Father James witnessed Father Posluszny prostrate before the altar. A heavenly choir of angels sang sonorous praise. In the midst of the serpent’s coils, Jesus raised His pierced palms, beams of light issuing forth from the wounds. Father James sheltered his eyes, rapt with the experience.

  The serpent, engorged with evil, shuddered, unable to abide in divine sanctity. Its treacherous grip slackened, and it dropped to the ground. A beatific woman clothed with the sun, appeared. Raising her foot, she crushed the beast’s head with her heel. Resplendence enraptured the sanctuary of St. Mary of the Holy Angels.

  The radiance blinding, he blinked and reopened his eyes. All was silent with one lit candle. The sanctuary and the crucifix remained unchanged.

  In the solitude, hushed footfalls breezed up the aisle. It was after three in the morning, and the church doors were locked. With a racing pulse, the priest vaulted from the pew to face two men.

  “Father James, we must talk,” said Ezekiel, with Markus by his side.

  CRUISING THE SCHOOL corridors, Jordan ran into Ronan, who uncharacteristically said nothing. The beautiful girl’s weary bloodshot eyes looked as if she’d been crying nonstop. Her lanky unkempt hair and clothes seemed too large on her frame.

  “Are you alright?” Jordan felt compelled to ask.

  “No. Do I look all right?” she said. “My friends have abandoned me. I’m all alone. My dad’s gone, again, on another business trip.” Ronan wiped her nose with the back of her hand.

  “Want to go for a cup of coffee after school and talk?” I’m a chump.

  “Look at me.” Ronan held her arms out, like preparing to be frisked. “I don’t want to be out in public. I don’t want to be here.” She started to walk away.

  “Wait, Ronan—” She didn’t know what to say. “I’ll come over to your house tonight, but ask the girls to come too.”

  “If you’re not afraid of the boogie man, then come,” she spat the spiteful words before blending into the corridor with a bunch of students.

  Jordan lagged behind her. Ronan’s head veered sideways talking to someone—someone not visible. They’re here!

  After dinner, she called for Markus, then again after her shower. Like a caged animal, she paced around her room and hallway.

  When Markus implied he’d be gone for a while, she’d taken for granted that he’d meant from school, the country—the Earth. He hadn’t been gone at all. Her temper hit the maximum breaking point, and she slammed off the light. A spark caught her eye in the dark bedroom.

  “Where’ve you been?” she accused, trouncing towards him. “What’s going on?” When another angelic Markus appeared, she felt bamboozled. Two Markus’s?

  “You were never alone,” said the one on the right. “And I couldn’t very well miss school, could I? My disappearance would’ve caused quite a stir with the Schaffer Family.” Markus’s hand flipped to the duplicate angel. “Meet Rafe.”

  “You have another angel impersonating you. Why didn’t you just tell me?”

  “Because I know how you think,” he said, not expounding.

  The duplicate angel dipped his head and vanished, leaving them alone.

  “That wasn’t you sledding with us,” she said. “It was the other Markus?”

  “That was me,” he said. “Rafe notified me of your date to go sledding.”

  “How’d he find out?”

  He graced her with an ingenious smile. “Word gets around rather quickly in high school. Although, there’s another development. Veronka’s on the warpath.” His features hardened. “As I’d suspected, she’s initiated a bounty. She’s offered some form of reward for the demon that captures you.”

  “That sounds awesome,” she said fully sarcastic. “Don’t tell my mom, or I’ll be in protective custody forever.”

  Markus seemed to grow cold, and if she didn’t know better, she’d think he almost seemed fearful? “I think your mom should be made aware—”

  “Absolutely not.”

  Ezekiel emerged from the ether, and said without preamble, “Get your mother, now.”

  Oh, God, something’s wrong. “I didn’t tell her what happened when we went sledding,” Jordan templed her hands. “Please don’t say anything. She’s just starting to get a life. Please.” She entreated them with pleading eyes.

  While Ezekiel pursed his lips, but Markus tipped his head in agreement, though appeared unhappy.

  Seeley rushed into the room with Jordan in her wake. “What’s wrong?”

  “We have a major crisis,” Ezekiel said. “Inexplicable lines have been crossed.”

  Weak-kneed, Seeley lowered onto the bed. A sturdy Jordan remained standing, a firm hand on her mom’s shoulder. Then, in a sight to behold, the angelic beings unfolded feathery wings. A fiery kaleidoscope of lustrous, crystalline colors darted around them. Markus’s glimmering eyes locked on Jordan.

  “The Powers have discovered a violation.” Ezekiel hesitated peering at Markus before continuing. “You know that tiny voice in the back of a person’s mind? It has the potential to influence someone toward the dark side. Since the beginning of time, evil has oozed into the world, corrupting human souls, but now, someone or something is creating abnormal aberrations. We’re presently at a crossroads.”

  Jordan didn’t quite comprehend the crisis.

  “Demons are impregnating humans,” Markus explained. “Who give birth to half-breeds.”

  “It’s true—” Seeley shivered, hugging herself. “I didn’t want to believe my visions of these…these…half-breeds.”

  “What can we do?” Jordan asked. “How can we fight this?”

  “Ridding the world of this kind of atrocity will be nearly impossible,” Zeke admitted, declining to go into specifics.

  The ringing music of her cell phone jolted them.

  “Omigosh,” she said. “I forgot, I’m supposed to be at Ronan’s tonight.”

  “You cannot go to that—that girl’s house.” Standing tall, Seeley frowned.

  “But, Mom, I think Ronan’s seeking help—my help. I feel it.”

  “Reason with her.” She looked to the angels. “Ronan cannot be trusted. Not now, when everything’s turning upside down.”

  “Your mother’s right,” Ezekiel concurred.

  “I’ll go with Jordan,” Markus offered.

  Jordan smiled at him, all her anger evaporating like a trace of smoke.

  “That wouldn’t be wise.” Ezekiel glared at the younger angel. “She knows what you are. With The Order’s resources, it’s more than likely they’ve trained Ronan well. Her ability could far exceed our expectations.”

  “God would want me to help her. Wouldn’t He?” Jordan protested, her hands on her hips. “I don’t like Ronan, she’s wicked. But what really pisses me off are these soulless manipulators. They have the gall to do whatever they want, take whomever they want, and kill—” Swallowing a sob, she brushed at a loose tear. “Dad would know what to do.” She ran from the room and banged the bathroom door behind her.

  “This news hit her hard. She’s spent her entire young life looking over her shoulder, and now…” Seeley stalled. “I’m taking her to Sacred Heart Church with Father James tonight. Stay close and wish me luck with my speech.”

  “SINCE I’M RUNNING late, Father James is meeting us at the church.” Seeley glanced at Jordan while turning right. “I know you’re upset. But I think we should talk to him first, explain more about Ronan and get his advic
e.” The car fishtailed on the slippery pavement.

  Jordan huffed through her tangled expression. “Ever since I’ve been old enough to understand about Dad and the book he wrote, and then his journal, all I ever wanted to do was rid the world of evil things. This is going to sound bad, really bad, but I want to kill demons.

  “Every time I close my eyes, I picture Dad hanging on that cross. I see and feel his blood dripping on me and hear the way you screamed. It haunts me. In my dreams, I hear your screams all the time.” She hesitated and raked her fingers over her jeans. “I don’t know if I want to do this anymore. I—I want to be a normal teenager, go on dates, and not think about demons jumping out at me. What if one of those mangy things hurts someone I’m with?” She talked as if a wad of cotton was bunched in her throat.

  “Jordan, God would never make you do anything against your will. You’re free to be whomever you desire.”

  “But, I thought I was a warrior,” she stammered. “I have these powers.”

  “True, and I don’t know why it was foreseen before your birth, but—” Seeley pressed the bridge of her nose. “We’re all called to be warriors, more or less, by fighting those evil thoughts, helping people, being a good person, and showing kindness and respect to others.”

  “Can I walk away from all this demon stuff and just be a good person?”

  “I really don’t know. I’d be lying if I said anything different.”

  “You’re not helping me one bit.”

  “Talk to Father James about this, or maybe even Markus.”

  Her mom sounded panicky, probably about her upcoming speech, and she was being an absolute pill.

  “There’s the church. I’m late. He’s probably thinking I chickened out.”

  The attendance was disappointing, scarcely fifty people. Slumped low in the last pew, Jordan listened to her mother’s lecture.

  “It’s time to take our world away from the devil,” Seeley began, and paused to catch a bumpy breath. “The evil one has claimed our land and roams freely, devouring morality and purity. He deceives our young people into seeking vain, prideful glory as the only way to achieve success, squashing anyone and everyone in their way. Revenge is taught as the norm in today’s society. We face an epidemic of materialism and commercialism.”