“Can I help you?” I ask.
Her lips curl in a lopsided way. Something about it is familiar.
“I sure hope so. I’m looking for Gabriel Turner.”
Chapter Five
Gabriel. She called him Gabriel.
“Are…are you Marcus’s mother?” I take a step backward and stumble. I grab the doorknob and jerk upright, saving myself from an embarrassing fall. She must think I’m a total klutz. Marcus hasn’t said much about his mother. Just that she’s the only person in the world who called him Gabriel and she left when he was very young.
“He goes by his middle name now?” Her forehead creases like an accordion. She cranes her neck to look inside the foyer. “He lives here, doesn’t he?”
Marcus’s mother? Is this a surprise visit? Or have Marcus and his mother been in touch? Would he keep something that huge a secret from me? “Is he expecting you?” I ask.
If her eyes were weapons, I’d be a pile of dust on the foyer floor. “No,” she says icily. “Is that a problem?”
It would be rude to slam the door in her face. Should I lie and tell her Marcus doesn’t live here? Again, bad idea. Marcus may actually want to see her.
“No.” I open the door wide. “Apartment two, second floor.”
She maneuvers around me, plants one foot on the bottom stair, and pauses.
“He’s not home, but Aiden, his…roommate, will let you in. You can wait for him.”
“Thank you,” she says over her shoulder.
Her steps are slow as she makes her way to the second floor. Maybe I should walk her up and wait with her. I mean, she is my boyfriend’s mother. I should probably try to make a good impression or something. Then I think about trying to make small talk with this stranger and Aiden. I chicken out and text Marcus instead.
My fingers shake, and I have to retype my brief message twice.
What time will you be home?
I pace the foyer. Back and forth. Back and forth. What else did Marcus tell me about his mother? Nothing. I had pretty much assumed she was dead. Is he still mad at her? Or does he never talk about her because he no longer cares?
I jump when my phone vibrates against the palm of my hand.
Half hour. Why? What’s up?
Marcus is always on edge, worried Seamus will come for me. I drum my fingers on the banister while I figure out how to word my message. Is it my place to tell him his mom showed up? Or should I let her surprise him? I try to put myself in his shoes. Would I want to be surprised by a parent who bailed on me? Nope.
A woman claiming to be your mother is here. She’s waiting in your apartment with Aiden.
Five seconds later, Elvis Costello’s voice croons from my phone. Marcus’s ringtone.
“Hello—”
“Is this some kind of joke, Lucy? Because it’s not funny.” His words come out in sharp, angry bursts.
“It’s not a joke, I swear.” How could he think I’d do that to him? He must be completely freaked out. “She just showed up asking for Gabriel Turner. Should I have lied? Told her you don’t live here?”
There’s silence on the other end. Finally, he murmurs, “No.”
“Do you want me to be there when you get home?”
“No. I’ve got this.” His voice sounds flat. Is he in shock?
“You’re sure?”
“Positive,” he says crisply.
Marcus disconnects without saying goodbye. I shove my phone into my pocket and head into my apartment. I follow the buttery scent of something fantabulous into the kitchen.
“Hey, kiddo,” Sheldon says. “Homemade pot pie tonight. Just for you.”
“Not those frozen things. Trying to find a vegetarian pot pie at the store that’s any good is impossible,” Bernard huffs as he shoves the clean rolling pin in the lower cabinet.
“You’re the best.” I wrap my arms around him and kiss him on the cheek.
Sheldon raises his bushy eyebrows and taps his cheek. “Hey, what about me?”
I cross the kitchen and plant a noisy kiss on his cheek. Figuring I should add my efforts to the cause, I wash my hands, then grab plates, glasses, and silverware and set the table.
Bernard pulls dinner out of the oven and distributes the pies onto our plates. I pick off bits of crust, blow on them then pop them into my mouth.
“What’s going on with Dylan?” Sheldon asks as he opens a bottle of red wine. I wrinkle my nose as the sour smell hits my nostrils. “He hasn’t come around in a while.”
It’s true. Dylan usually stops by once a week for dinner and to suck up to my uncles. It’s an ongoing rivalry he has with Marcus.
“I’m not sure, but I plan to call him after dinner. I’ll find out.”
“See if he wants to come over for dinner one night this week. We like your mood when he’s around,” Bernard says.
Given Dylan’s demon-esque outbursts lately, I really don’t want him around my uncles.
“Sure. I’ll ask him,” I lie.
“If he doesn’t show his face more around here, his ranking may slip below Marcus’s,” Sheldon says. He and Bernard chuckle.
My face grows hot. The fact that they consider Marcus and Dylan on the same playing field is annoying. Marcus is my boyfriend. Dylan is my good friend. There’s no contest.
Speaking of my boyfriend, it’s been an hour. Why hasn’t he texted me? What’s going on with his mother?
* * * *
I dial Dylan while unloading my backpack. The sooner I finish all of my studying, the sooner I can meet Marcus on the roof. That is…if he calls or texts me. He was there for me when I discovered Jude was my father. Will Marcus let me be there for him?
“Tennessee.” Dylan’s voice comes across the line like a slow purr. “How’s it going?”
“The more important question is…how are you?”
He laughs. “I’m doing great. Better than ever, actually.”
He’s always been cocky, but his voice seems edgier than normal. After Dylan’s powers awoke and we found out his father had made a deal with Jude all those years ago for extreme success and wealth in exchange for his first born, Dylan and I made a pact to keep each other from turning evil. I can’t let the change in him slide. I have to be on guard, for his sake.
“Why’s that?” My attempt to sound nonchalant fails, and instead, I sound suspicious.
He blows out a noisy breath. “I had a great day. That’s all.”
“If it’s no big deal, then tell me about it.”
“You’re a pain in the butt, you know that?”
I knew it. Marcus was wrong. Dylan’s demon powers are changing. But there’s no way I’m talking with Marcus about this. Never mind that he’s upstairs right now facing his long-lost mother. He’ll blow a gasket like he always does whenever I bring up Dylan.
“Something happened. Tell me. Now.”
“Really, it’s not a big—”
“Sure. No big deal. So spill it.”
I hear the rustle as he shifts the phone to his other ear.
“Get this.” His voice is low, excited. “So the guys and I shot hoops earlier today. It’s not my strong suit like football, but man…I was on fire today. I wish you were there, Lucy,” he gushes. “I still don’t know how—but it was like, all of a sudden, I had tunnel vision. It was just me and the net. I was unstoppable.” Dylan pauses in his rapid-fire explanation to take a breath. “Did you hear me? Un-stop-a-bull. I sunk the ball more times than I can count. I actually tore the net from the rim on my final shot.”
I swallow past the uneasiness creeping up my throat. “Must be all your practicing,” I say weakly, knowing Dylan would no more take time away from his football training for any other sport than Jude would become an angel.
Dylan chuckles. “Yeah, right. I became LeBron James, Kobe Bryant, Kevin Durant all in one today. Tony Parker, too. It was all me. One guy. And I was awesome. I told the guys we’re doing this again next weekend.”
“You don’t normally pla
y basketball, right?” Is it possible that Dylan’s naturally talented at all sports? Or is this part of his demon genes awakening?
“Hey, Lucy, I know where you’re headed with this and I have two words for you. Buzz. Kill.”
After I hang up with Dylan, I wonder if I should talk to Aiden about my suspicions. I still don’t know if he is trustworthy, but he’s a demon, and he seems to know more about demon transformation than anyone else. Except Jude. But Jude would be excited by the prospect of Dylan embracing his demon side or whatever is going on. I make a mental note to call Aiden after I know Marcus’s mother is gone.
I open my biology book. As I flip through the pages, my mouth goes dry. This can’t be right. I turn to the prior chapter, scan the highlighted information, the notes in the margin. I close my eyes tight, then open them again. I know we covered this information already. Had a test on it. And yet it’s not familiar. I can’t breathe. My chest is tight.
I rustle through the pages to the next chapter. We’ve studied this material all week. I’ve read every page. Why don’t I recognize any of the information?
I’m just barely managing to keep the B average my uncles insisted on if I want to keep all my privileges, a decline from the A average I maintained in Tennessee. If I don’t do well on this test, will they tell me I can’t see Marcus any more? Will I have give up my weekend job babysitting for Dylan’s brother and sister? What if Sheldon and Bernard refuse to let me see Jude until I bring my grades up?
I try to focus on the diagram explaining how photosynthesis works, but the words blur and swim around the page. I’m checking my phone before I know it. Nothing. I try to read the text beneath the neat green diagram, but it might as well be in another language.
Finally my phone buzzes.
Meet me on the roof?
Chapter Six
Marcus beats me to the roof. He doesn’t stand at the railing ready to take my hand as I climb over. Instead, he sits on the ground, slumped against the short wall. I take a seat next to him. A fresh breeze chills my skin. I wrap my arms around myself. My teeth chatter, more out of nervousness than the cool night air
“I can’t believe she showed up like that.” His voice is quiet as he stares at his hands clenched in his lap.
Marcus has never looked so miserable. What can I do to make him feel better? Nothing comes to mind. I hate feeling helpless.
“How long has it been?” I ask.
His laugh sounds more like a bark, harsh and loaded with pain. “She left when I was four.”
I take hold of his hand and gently unfurl his fist, one finger at a time. “How are you doing?”
He focuses on his shoes. “I freaked out when you called. A hundred questions went through my head at once.” His voice is flat, monotone.
“And now?”
Marcus pulls his knees up. “I asked her why she left.”
“What did she say?”
He swings his head back to me, his eyes narrow, searching. I work hard to keep any sign of judgment off of my face.
“She—Camille—didn’t want to leave. She thought she could change his mind about me.”
I sit up straighter. “What do you mean? Change whose mind?”
“My real father—not the man I thought was my father—is special like me.”
“Wait—your real father?”
“Nice, right? I’m a candidate for one of those stupid daytime talk shows featuring messed up families.” Marcus shakes his head. “Anyway, Camille refers to us as protectors. My father left when he found out she was pregnant. He had a political career path, and children didn’t play a role in that.”
“So your father bailed?” My entire body tenses, my muscles quivering. What’s wrong with these people? Part of me feels sorry for Camille, since Marcus’s father took off when she was pregnant, but then she did the same thing.
Marcus nods. “She thought they were hardcore in love. Soul mates.” He rubs the palm of his free hand on his knee. I wait, not sure if he plans to continue. “Then the guy I thought was my dad came along.” Marcus sighs, scratches his jaw. “Camille’s car had broken down on the side of the highway one day, and he happened to stop. He fell in love with her on the spot and pursued her until she gave in.”
“Did he know she was pregnant?”
“Yes, but he didn’t care. He wanted a life with her.”
“So…what happened? Why did she leave?”
Marcus pulls his hand free. “Turns out my biological father contacted her. He wanted to reconcile.”
“Why didn’t she take you with her?”
“Apparently, being a protector, even one as powerful as my mother claims he is, has its disadvantages. There are supernaturals whose role it is to kill them. Thugs for hire.”
A shot of adrenaline surges through me and I gasp. “Who’s out to kill protectors?”
Marcus raises one eyebrow. “I’ll give you one guess.”
My skin tingles and my fingers twitch. My body’s not going to produce a fireball. It’s more of an energy overload. Then it dawns on me.
Who hates Marcus more than anyone else? Who tried to destroy him on the night of homecoming?
My father. “Demons.”
Marcus presses his lips into a thin, tight line. “Yes. Hired muscle. Demons with no other talents. Higher-level demons hire them to take out my kind. Garret—my father—thought it was safer for me to remain off the radar for a while.”
“That would’ve been fine if demons couldn’t sense what you are, but they can. Jude can. Who was supposed to protect you? Your human stepfather couldn’t.”
Marcus snorts.
“So…Camille up and left when he contacted her?”
Marcus rests his arms on his knees. I scoot closer and lean my cheek on his shoulder. I wrap my arms around him. “Camille was sure she could change his mind once she spoke with him face-to-face.”
That didn’t work out so well.
“So what now? What does she want?” I force the words from my mouth. My lips and tongue move slowly as if numb from Novocain.
“She wants to be a part of my life and…”
I can barely breathe. I close my eyes tight. “And?”
“To introduce me to Garret.”
I suddenly feel dizzy, breathless. “Why? What good is that now? They dumped you, made you fend for yourself all this time, and now they want some happy family reunion?”
“Camille wants us to be a family.”
Chapter Seven
I make it through my first couple of periods at school on Monday in a daze. Marcus is going to meet with his mother again tonight, probably tomorrow night, too. I might as well get used to it. I’m going to lose him. A part of me wonders if Jude helped orchestrate this. He’ll get his wish to have Marcus out of my life. By the time I join Katie and the girls at lunch, I’m feeling miserable.
“Hey what’s up with you?” Ella looks over at me. “Someone kill your cat—or wait, you have a bird, right?”
Lola and Serenity, Gram and Persephone’s ravens haven’t returned since Jude’s visit to the three-flat. Of course, Jude tried to kill them last year, so it’s understandable why they took off, but it doesn’t make sense that they’re still gone. “Not today, Ella,” I say quietly.
Katie bumps my elbow, giving me a questioning look. I shake my head and pick at my cheese and pickle sandwich.
“What-ever.” Ella responds in an annoying valley girl voice.
My relationship with Ella is hard to describe. She doesn’t like me and goes out of her way to make sure I know it. While Katie’s my best friend and Suzie and Cloe are close seconds, Ella’s a thorn in my side. Caroline’s not as bad, but she’s Ella’s BFF and is pretty annoying, too. There’s not much I can do about it, though. The five of them have been friends since grade school. I’m the newbie, having started at St. Aquinas at the beginning of the school year. I don’t want to rock the boat. Ella and Caroline were surprisingly nice to me after homecoming when I was so depressed o
ver my boyfriend’s absence. Of course, they didn’t know he was turned to stone and camped out on the three-flat roof. But their kindness ended pretty quickly once they realized Dylan and I were spending time together. Ella’s got a crush on Dylan, who pretty much ignores her these days, and Caroline goes along with whatever Ella says.
Ella smirks at me and turns to Caroline. “Let’s talk about something fun. Is everything still on track for your party?”
Caroline nods. “It’s four weeks away, but I already have the guest list done. The menu, too.”
“Menu?” Cloe looks confused. “You said you’re serving chips and dip, snacky stuff, right?”
“I like to be organized,” Caroline points out. She flips through her spiral notebook and runs her finger down the page. Her party notes? Ella peers over her shoulder.
“Do you really think people are going to respect a guest list?” Suzie asks, dipping her French fries in a pool of ketchup on her plate. “You know how it is. Everyone will tell their friends, and you’re going to wind up with a packed house.”
Caroline tears her gaze away from her notes and glances at Ella nervously.
“All the better.” Ella grins at Caroline. “There’ll be a great selection of guys for me—for us—to choose from.”
I’m guessing Ella will be the one inviting people not included on the list. She’ll take Caroline’s party and make it her own. I wonder if Marcus will still be here by then.
He’s going to leave you, the little voice in my head says. I close my eyes as a wave of dizziness washes over me. Lunch is no longer appetizing, and I push my food away. I pull my phone out of my purse to see if Marcus texted. No message.
“Awww, what’s wrong, Lucy? One of your boyfriends ignoring you? Maybe you need a third. Oh wait, there’s Shawn, too, right?”
Anger flares inside of me, and I dig my nails into my thigh. I envision shooting a fireball at Ella, watching her go up in flames. The satisfaction is short-lived as I remember my promise to Persephone and Henry to keep my powers a secret. Turning Ella into a crispy critter doesn’t bother me nearly as much as it should. Maybe I’m more like Jude than I thought.
The Girl and the Gargoyle: Book Two of The Girl and the Raven Series Page 3
