Jake came up to Rinae, slowing his pace until he inched his way toward her. Out of the dozen or so that roughly lived in their hideout, Jake was both the person you wanted in your back pocket, and the person you wanted to avoid at all costs. He stood at average height, his short blonde hair shocking and naturally bright, the same way his blue eyes glowed on their own. Rinae thought back to the first time she had joked he soaked up all the radiation from a power plant, and how he’d punched her so hard in the shoulder she had sworn it was dislocated. Over time, he came to warm to Rinae, as all the others had carefully done, too. In some ways, she viewed him as an older brother more than their unspoken group leader. He was their dark angel, the protector of their small, tight-knit group to the city’s cruel and unforgiving streets.
“Leaving so soon?” His voice was smooth, but gritty, like sand polishing your feet at the beach. “Del said you only just got back.”
Fighting the mechanical urge to sneer at the mention of Del, she gave a short, jerky bob for a nod. Opening her mouth would have the same effect as pulling the plug to a bathtub full of water; rushing of words that couldn’t be said.
Reaching with a pale hand, Jake touched the hem of Rinae’s sleeve, slipping a finger in the thumbhole. A small frown dashed his lips. “Guess it’ll be the clubs. Kickin’ it out tonight?” Jake probed. He had a terrible habit of sticking his nose where it didn’t belong, but Rinae never could bring herself to say something. “What, are we not good enough for your precious time?”
She knew it was meant to be a friendly jab, still since winced. “You know me,” she offered, shrugging off the verbal sting. Her free hand flexed in and out of a fist, starting to shake. “Can’t sit still for more than a few seconds.”
Jake studied her for a moment, then nodded. She thought back to the first time they met, and how he’d made a passing comment of her visible shaking. In an act of desperation, Rinae had claimed she suffered from some kind of ADD. Couldn’t bring herself to sit still, never kept her mouth shut. And yet somehow he managed to tolerate her, smooth talk the rest of the gang into accepting her like a little sister while she kept the real reason hidden. Now it was her calling card, an excuse she could slap on anything in case she got out of hand.
“So which club are you thinking of crashing?” His hand moved from her sleeve to the ends of her hair, twirling a strand around his index finger.
Rinae ignored the urge to bite the inside of her cheek, that would be the quickest way to tell she was about to lie. She could feel the tears stinging her eyes, working a wall of liquid that would spill if she didn’t control herself, fast.
Forcing herself to stop twitching for a moment, she let the lie slip effortlessly from her lips. “Nowhere special. Was thinking about Slash.” She paused, long enough to fake contemplation. “Maybe Glitz & Bitz if I’m feeling edgy.”
“The lesbian bar?” Jake arched a single blonde eyebrow in true, classic cartoon form. Confusion and amusement riddled his voice as he spoke between two chuckles. “Funny, you don’t take me for the gay type.”
She made a move to turn and look away, but it was too late. A fresh, strawberry red blush tinted the upper half of her cheeks. The shakes riddling her body stopped, replaced by a new kind of jittering that swallowed her stomach and rattled her heart. Memories of his lips, brief and strong as he kissed her lips and palms, only made the quivering worse. Against all odds, she kept her cool. “Hey, you never know. Maybe that’s where my true love is at. You know, true love’s kiss can take form in a variety of ways.”
A knowing, come-on-now look settled in his eyes. “So can a chicken’s egg. Scrambled, sunny side up, hard-boiled, deviled, the list goes on. Just picture freshly made deviled eggs, laid out on your naked-”
“Jake Mathews, you finish that sentence, and I’ll-”
“You’ll what?” He pressed his body closer, stealing the space she had been keeping between them instinctively. Heat flamed her cheeks brighter, a twisting sensation in her gut making her brain go hay-wire. She could feel the beginning of her control unwinding, stripping away like paint to a wall. Or clothes to a body.
“What happened, Rinae? What happened to us?” His breath tickled the side of her neck, teeth grazing the edge of her earlobe. Hands found themselves on her hips, holding her tightly in place. “Tell me, Slayer, tell me you miss it. Tell me you miss us like I do.”
Rinae could feel her jaw forcing itself to lock. Her tongue rammed into the roof of her mouth. Sure, she could have told him she missed being together, missed it like a flame misses wood when it burns to ashes. But that would have been a lie. A beautiful, hopeless, damning lie.
He couldn’t be with her, just as she couldn’t be with him. For more reasons than he’d ever know.
Seconds ticked by, slow and silent. Each moment felt like a painful gunshots to the chest. It sealed her fate. Jake’s hands, having moved up and wrapping in her hair, withdrew carefully until they hung to the sides of his body in defeat.
She sighed. “Jake...”
“Be safe.” Red tinged the white in his eyes, hurt wavering inside them. He quickly blinked both eyes, the hurt dissolving with each blink. She could hear the faint wavering of his voice as he fought to keep himself in check. “I’d hate to break someone’s face if you didn’t come home in one piece.”
Inwardly, she ached to reach out to him, to soothe him. She knew enough to know she had ever been the only one to crack Jake’s diamond-tough shell, to expose the raw and vulnerable side he kept under lock and key. Her throat tightened. Rinae wanted to love him, love him to ruins. But their falling out had nothing to do with a lack of love. And that’s what made their break-up hurt that much more.
“I’ll be good,” she assured him with a wry smile. “It’s everyone else you’ll need to look out for.”
CHAPTER TWO
LOST SOULS
Sweat, booze, and hormone-driven teenagers; three things Rinae could always guarantee to see in any club shaking the underground masses of New York City.
By the time Rinae had shut the metal door to her hidden home, New York City had transformed. The sky had turned dark; ribbons of navy and charcoal dashed the celestial heavens like a pristine canvas, sprinkled in glittering bursts of starlight. Like flipping a switch, the city went from a posh and clean home, to a dark and seductive realm.
Making her way across several back streets, Rinae kept the hems of her sleeves low. This time, she was no fool. Each hand carried a petite blade, ready for the fight should any boys decide to make a move on her. It was rare, especially once she hit the streets lined with underground clubs and drug detox hideouts, but one could never be too sure. And at this point, if anyone was going to try and take her freedom, Rinae was prepared to unleash a can of whoop-ass worthy of a gold medal.
When it came to leaving the hidden underground she called home, it was usually only for a few things, clubbing being one of them. Clubbing was one of those double-edge swords that gave her the freedom she craved, with the benefit of being able to lower her mental barriers. Losing herself in the music was the closest thing Rinae had to a drug to quell the whispers that danced in her head to a mean beat, lifting the blinders and showing her the truth to the disjointed world around her.
Disjointed. Rinae laughed. She knew better- it wasn’t so much that the world was disjointed, but that she was horribly broken. Scratch that, broken couldn’t even cover just what she was. Monster, maybe. Unnatural, probably.
Inhuman? Definitely.
Thinking the word alone put a dent in her step as she crossed a pair of giggling girls dressed in skin-tight pastel dresses. She hadn’t known she was different at first. No one had exactly told her that kids couldn’t create fire... that was it unnatural to see horns and scales and wings on people who appeared perfectly normal to the rest of the world. It wasn’t until her ‘gift’ nearly killed someone that she learned to keep her mouth shut, and ignore the painful itch that danced in her veins.
Rinae easily cleare
d several more rows of cracked and eroded homes, passing ancient-signed businesses, and tiny coffee shops to an unmarked iron door wielded into an intimidating marble pillar alongside a black building. Two symbols, both in the shape of capitalized V’s, were burned into the door.
Three knocks, two pounds with a fist, and a whistle. The door inched open with a jolt, a dark skinned girl with blazing red hair to rival Rinae’s sticking out to peer around the frame.
“Password?”
“Black symphony,” Rinae said.
With a nod, the redhead pulled herself back inside, leaving enough space for Rinae to squeeze in after her. The door shut behind her automatically, immersing the two of them in a purple light as they stood in a cramped, compact elevator. The redhead pressed two buttons on a control panel to her side, the sound of a buzzing hum filling the silence. Quietly they descended, Rinae ignoring the jerking of the elevator as it creaked and rattled in its drop.
The door flung itself open as soon it came to a stop, screeching music and blood-pounding bass shocking her ears. Stepping free from the small space, Rinae barely had the chance to speak when the elevator sealed shut with the redhead still inside, and continued on its drop without her.
Shrugging, Rinae pushed away the pounding sensation in her head to take in her surroundings. Being one of the newer underground clubs boasting a tight list for partying fanatics, it was a bit of a surprise when Rinae was first offered to check it out with Loyal. He’d made her promise, swear on the only valuable item she had, never to share its with anyone. So far, so good.
Rumbling bass pushed against her ears sharper than she last remembered, but it didn’t take long for the music to fill her soul like it always seemed to. A hand reached out to her from inside the throng, and she happily took it. Once inside, it was like the world didn’t exist.
Every step, every beat, it all flowed like some kind of erratic electricity that flowed in her veins. Rinae closed her eyes, letting her hands move freely in the air as her hips swayed to the beat. It felt like hours had passed under the flickering strobe lights and wild techno beats before she finally stepped away, slamming into the bar counter with an exhilarated grin plastered on her sweat-drenched face.
“Ah, having a good night, I see,” the barkeep behind the counter winked. At first glance, she looked like any other girl slumming it in the underground; shocking electric blue hair, scrunched in tight curls, framed her heart-shaped face covered in varying tattoos of blooming roses on both cheeks. She had naturally bright green eyes, but preferred to wear contacts that colored them a deep, enchanting violet. Paired with a shoestring-laced secondhand corset, and some ripped leather leggings, and she was a beauty in a mystical, haunting way. “What’s going, Slayer?”
Rinae tilted her head back, laughing despite herself. “Not much, Annslea, just a taste of freedom.” Brushing a piece of damp hair out of her eyes, she grinned. “I see we’re still digging the wild violet contacts.”
“Hey, you ever want a pair, just say so. Those muddy brown eyes of yours should sparkle, not bore,” Annslea chimed, raising her hands above her head to shake a drink. Flipping it faster than Rinae could keep her eyes trained on the shaker, she poured the drink into three sugar-rimmed glasses, not a drop wasted.
A petite blonde, gracing the world with a glittering cocktail dress that barely covered her chest, took one of the glasses off the counter, nose high with a saunter back into the wild crowd. Rinae and Annslea exchanged eyerolls, but not before Rinae caught sight of rainbow colored scales brushing the top of the blonde’s cheeks.
“I see we’re serving the posh and stuck-up now,” Rinae sighed.
“Trust me, I don’t like it any more than you do.”
“Then why let them in?”
Rubbing her fingers together in emphasis, Annslea frowned. “Money talks. Besides, you of all people know better than to ask why some get in and some don’t, Miss Underage.”
She ignored the comment, preferring to lean over the counter and grab a glass to fill with something cold. Annslea had the orange juice out before Rinae could even think to ask, filling the glass halfway. She downed the glass in a single swallow, still grinning by the time Annslea returned to their end of the bar after several orders. They chatted quietly between bursts of people, watching them come and go with different drinks and requests, the crowd growing like an uncontrollable batch of mold.
“So?” Annslea probed nearly an hour later, glancing up from a tray of glasses to dry. A navy towel embroidered with little pink clouds hung off her shoulder. “How are things at home?”
She shrugged, shoulders tightening under her black shirt. Home wasn’t exactly what she came out to talk about. “It’s home. Del’s going to give birth any day now.”
“Is the baby full term?”
“Not even close.”
“Oh. And I take it she...?”
“Isn’t going to a doctor? No, not at all.” Rinae could feel the tension tightening in her chest. “She’s too busy looking for the father, her angel.”
Annslea rolled her eyes again. “You’ve got to be kidding me. That girl’s going insane.”
“You think? If it wasn’t for her constant early contractions, I might not spend so much time shuffling in the library.”
Setting down the tray and tucking it into place, Annslea came over to Rinae. Her voice had grown quiet. “Speaking of library, any luck?”
The words were innocent enough, but Rinae instantly knew the weight that was hiding inside. Over the last few weeks, she had tried to research anything that would help her understand the power she so painfully hid away. That, and tried to understand why out of everything, the only thing her Mother had left her pre-death was a necklace that pulsed on its own with a warmth that couldn’t be explained.
“No, not much.” Reaching into her black shirt, Rinae gently nudged the velvet pouch connected to the chain hanging around her neck. A dull, comforting warmth radiated from inside. At first, she hadn’t told Annslea anything about the research, just that she was looking for an answer to a question she couldn’t phrase. But with time came a growing friendship between the two, and ultimately Rinae learned to confide in Annslea the things she refused to say aloud.
Frowning, Annslea pulled up a stool to sit, resting her arms on the wiped-down counter. “Huh, weird. You’d think something so... curious would have more information. What did you look for exactly?”
“Drug-babies with bizarre powers, weird necklaces that have heating capabilities, you know, all the regular stuff.”
Annslea snickered. “Might want to consider broadening that search there, Slayer.”
“Sure thing,” Rinae winked,polishing off another glass of orange juice. She watched the barkeep for a moment, raising an eyebrow in confusion as the barkeep glanced over Rinae’s shoulder, then silently laughed to herself. “What?”
“Don’t look now, but I think you’ve got some kind of admirer.”
Of course, as soon as she said not to look, Rinae spun around and pressed her back to the bar counter. The crowd had thinned considerably in the last few hours, only the lonely souls who didn’t care to go home still dancing in patches across the dance floor. But in the center, a boy stood alone, eyes locked on Rinae.
He stood out like a sore thumb, a zebra among cheetahs. Under the barely-there light, Rinae could make out a hint of dark olive skin, and wild curly black hair. His eyes shined, expectant and amused, but to what Rinae had no clue.
Looking back at Annslea over her shoulder, she shrugged. “Any idea who he is?”
“None,” she said, shaking a quick drink. “I’ve never seen his face before.”
Turning back to stare at the nearly-empty floor, Rinae paused.
The boy was gone, vanished as if he were made of smoke.
________________
“No, Rinae stop! Please, please stop!”
“I can’t, Cecily, I can’t!”
“RINAE!”
“Rinae, Rinae.”
> Rinae’s eyes flew open, a gasp caught like a bubble in her chest. Her eyes darted around the room, dancing between the small cots and bundles of still blankets.
Hands cradled her face. Familiar, warm hands. Jake whispered in a voice that barely reached her ears. “You were whimpering in your sleep.”
“Oh. Fun.” Swallowing the urge to lean over and hurl, Rinae pushed away Jake’s hands, sitting up. Her heart thundered like a unforgiving storm pummeling a small town with rain. Visions, both bright and dark, continued to flash in her memory until her hands started to shake. It had been months since her last nightmare. Now, they had been playing on a constant loop for the last week, nearly waking everyone every night she cried out for the girl in her dreams.
Inching over, Jake did his best to keep quiet as he moved to sit alongside Rinae. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, warm fingers igniting a rush of excitement under her skin. “Rin, Slayer, talk to me. What’s going on?”
This was it; she could finally tell him. Tell him and not have to take it back later. Mentally, she wondered if he’d believe her if she told him just what was really eating her alive, what was keeping her closed off from him and the rest of the group. The warmth from the velvet pouch under her shirt reminded her it would destroy him if she said something.
“It... it’s about my family, and me,” she said, deciding to go with a half-truth.
“You’ve never talked about your family before.”
“Doesn’t mean nobody else hasn’t.”
Naturally, people talked. Even rumors could run rampant in a band of street urchins and throwaways. The first time Rinae had heard the rumor that her mother was a druggie, and she the product of her experimentations, she had shoved some blonde-haired joke of a thug through a patch of drywall like it was tissue-paper.
As time had gone on, and Rinae found little to nothing about either of her parents, she started to wonder if maybe the underground was right. Maybe she was a druggie child who was dumped and tossed into the System. Maybe bumping from one foster home to the next was her dead-end destiny in life.
Ethereal: An Illumine Series Novella (The Illumine Series) Page 2
