I pulled up to our house, a cookie-cutter copy of our neighbors’, and ran to the door. Fall in Colorado had turned from seasonal and pleasant to chilly and unforgiving quickly this year. Shutting the door against the wind and rustling leaves, I called out a quick greeting to see if either of my parents were home early from work. Met by silence, I made my way down the hall to my sister’s room.
“April!” I shouted as I entered.
“Yes?” She didn’t look up from her laptop.
April’s brow was furrowed in concentration as she worked on the midterm for her psychology course. She was a single point of focus amid the chaotic stacks of papers and textbooks surrounding her. If you asked her, she’d know precisely what was in each stack.
After her accident, April elected to change her college enrollment to online from on-campus so she could work as a volunteer coordinator at her physical therapy center. April’s mind for details was the perfect fit for the role, but I worried that she was driving herself into the ground. Between her classes, rehab schedule, and full-time job, it wasn’t unusual for her to work late into the night. The dark smudges beneath her eyes worried me.
“I’m in,” I said. I felt my chin lift in a moment of pride.
April’s head snapped up from her work. “What?”
“I’m in,” I repeated. “The Red Court. I’m officially a member.”
April ran a hand through her cropped hair. We had similar petite frames and the same fair skin and hazel eyes, but her hair was lighter, like our mom’s. Her mouth parted to speak, but she didn’t say anything. I wanted her to be excited for me, but I knew better than to expect it.
April had more reasons than anyone to want the Red Court destroyed, but she didn’t carry the same anger I did. She’d moved on, past the pain and the prognosis that her chances of walking again were slim to none. She’d found her place along the new path she’d forged for herself. It was me who couldn’t forgive, couldn’t forget that the Queen of Hearts was out there planning to hurt someone else’s sister.
A fresh pang of shame shot through me for my earlier thrill at being named a member of the Red Court. My resolve strengthened. I was going to find the Queen of Hearts and blackmail her into submission. Her remaining days of running Hell High were few.
“Part of me was hoping you wouldn’t get in,” April whispered.
A small stab pierced my heart. Did she not have any faith in me?
“Ember, you’re so talented. I hate that you’re investing your time in this. You could do so much better, give your time to something so much more worthwhile. And I know you don’t want to hear it again, but you could get hurt.” There was a hint of regret buried beneath the sweetness of her voice. I was her little sister; she was concerned for me, like any big sister would be.
I grasped her hand. “Don’t worry about me. I’m not missing out on anything.” Maybe it was the desperation for her approval I was wearing like a second skin, but her face softened.
“I’m proud of you for wanting to change things. What the Red Court does to people is terrible. I only wish that I had done something about it earlier. If I’d been less focused on myself a few years ago, I might have been able to put a stop to them myself.” April gave me a sad smile. My chest contracted in response. It was everything I needed to see to know I was doing the right thing.
“You could never be selfish.”
Unlike me.
My selfish need for revenge was what had fueled me through my exhaustion during finals and pushed me to run for captain of the debate team. It was basically my own renewable energy source, which was good because I would need it now more than ever.
“You’d be surprised.” April loosed a small, reluctant laugh before sobering. “You don’t have to do this for me. You know that, right? I’m not waiting for the Red Court to end to get on with my life.”
Though she seemed tired like usual, April’s features lacked the restlessness I knew I radiated. Maybe she was truly happy, but something in my mind refused to quiet. It was like a record skipping across the same thought and had been every day since I learned about the secret society that hurt April. The Red Court still existed, independent of my sister and what happened to her. She was only one person they hurt. If it didn’t stop, there would be more.
“I know you don’t need me to do this, but I do.”
“So, how did it happen?” She set her laptop down and shifted to make space for me on her bed. I made to help and lift some of the clutter out of the way. “Don’t mess with my system,” she insisted. “I can do it.”
Typical April. Adamant that she could take care of everything. A stubborn strength rested in her bones. If she’d been interested, the Red Court would have jumped at the chance to have April. The thought left a sour aftertaste in my brain, and I shoved it away.
I recounted my day for her, trying to include all the small details. When I mentioned Haley was the Red Court member who recruited me, a flicker of something I couldn’t identify crossed her face.
“Do you know Haley?” I asked. April was nearly four years older than me, so I didn’t know many of her friends when she went to Heller.
“I knew of her. She was a sophomore when I was a senior. She’s, like, artsy, right? Even as a freshman she had some piece in an art contest and won some big prize.”
“Yeah, that’s her.” I paused, unsure if I should share my apprehension. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t at least a little nervous.”
“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t regret telling you about the Red Court in the first place.” Her voice wavered. “In case you need to hear this, you can walk away. It doesn’t have to be you, Ember.”
Time seemed to slip backward to my earlier conversation with Haley, when she made a similar offer. I did have a choice, and I would choose to do the right thing, no matter what it cost me. “If not me, then who? Who else knows what I know and is willing to try?”
The Red Court took and took, and it was time for them to start paying. Who better to end them than someone who has seen the impact of their cruelty up close?
The front door opened and my dad’s voice called out. “We’re in here,” I called back.
My dad came down the hall and poked his head through the door. “How are my two best girls?” he asked. He was a classic college professor with his dark hair neatly combed. In class at the University of Denver he was all business, but outside of school he was prone to whimsy in a way that his two daughters never were. Case in point: naming his children after their birth months.
“What about Mom?” I asked with an eye roll.
“Shhh,” he whispered conspiratorially and added an exaggerated wink for effect. “Don’t tell her.”
“We’re fine, Dad.” April smiled.
A crease appeared across his forehead. “Ember, I got an email from the school about this morning.”
My stomach bottomed out. “This morning?”
“I know the administration is taking steps to address the culture of bullying among students. If you ever want to talk about it, we’re here.”
I shot an uneasy glance at April before saying, “Thanks, Dad. I’m fine.”
The school district should receive an award for the spin job they put on Red Court hits. Bullying didn’t even begin to cover it.
He nodded. “Tacos for dinner tonight?”
“I’ll be out to help in a minute.”
April busied herself neatening the stacks of notes around her. “I’m actually headed out tonight. Going-away party for someone at work.”
Dad eyed her. “Aren’t those sorts of things usually at bars?”
April rolled her eyes. Hard. “It’s at a restaurant. Relax.”
My sister had been rolling her eyes at any attempt by my parents to actually parent her since she was eight.
“Ok, then,” he said, and knocked t
wice on the door frame.
After he left, April turned back to me. “It’s in the bar at the restaurant.”
I shared a secret smile with my sister and stood to go help Dad with dinner. “Sounds fun.”
“Ember.”
April’s tone sent a shiver down my spine. It was a plea and a warning and something else I couldn’t name.
“I wanted to tell you...to be careful. If it gets to be too much, we’ll get you out. Together.”
“Of course.”
Lie.
There was nothing that would stop me.
CHAPTER 6
WALKING THROUGH SCHOOL the next day, I tried to look like I wasn’t harboring a big secret, and then tried even harder to look like I wasn’t trying. My life over the past year had been straightforward: work hard and earn positive attention for accolades. I worshipped at the shrine of my routine, borderline fanatical about each element. Now that I had achieved my initial goal of gaining access to the Red Court, there was no routine, and it was freaking me out. Haley texted once to let me know that she’d be in contact again only when she had something to say. So much for our hair-braiding sessions where I got her to spill everything she knew.
Gideon woke up with a cold and tapped out for the day, so I was free to waste my off-hour feeding my caffeine habit. After I put in a few minutes of face time with Mr. Carson to make up for my lapse in participation the day before, I swung by my locker to nab a jacket. When the locker door popped open, I found myself staring at a Queen of Hearts.
My own heart seemed to still for a long moment. I considered the card, trying to puzzle out its meaning before I picked it up. Why would Haley need to leave another card for me? I lifted the card from its perch on the top shelf and noticed the script on the back was neat, almost girlish, and not the block lettering from yesterday. Someone else had left me this message.
Welcome to the Red Court.
I expect great things from you.
Make me proud.
Unlike the invitation yesterday, this playing card didn’t have a signature. Only a small red heart drawn below the text. My hands began shaking. It was a note from the Queen of Hearts. I held something of hers, and that fact made my place in the Red Court feel real, feel like something was happening. And it reminded me the Queen of Hearts was watching me probably as much as I was looking for her. Behind the note was a stack of playing cards. My own personal supply of threats.
As slyly as possible, I slipped the Queen of Hearts playing card into my wallet, leaving the rest. The card Haley left me yesterday was safely tucked away in my dresser at home, but this one was special. It needed to be kept close. Grabbing my coat, I bolted for the nearest exit to find some coffee and my footing in this new landscape.
* * *
I stood at the counter of my favorite coffee shop in what felt like a waking dream of queens and playing cards (how was this my life?), chatting with Damien, aka Maker of the Best Lattes, when Chase Merriman breezed in the front door. It seemed fate wanted to rub my nose in my own misdeeds. I was hoping to avoid him for at least...forever.
He immediately joined the line but hadn’t looked up to see me. This was a good thing, since I was staring at him in a way a normal person probably wouldn’t be. After our little heart-to-heart yesterday, I couldn’t decide if he was a decent person or if I hated him more for knowing something so personal about me.
Damien noticed my gaze and smothered a grin. I scowled at him and went back to discreetly watching Chase for a few more moments. His breaths seemed strained and his blinks took just a hair too long. Noticeable bags had taken residence under his eyes. He was like a walking advertisement for why humans needed to sleep. Chase was the undeniable kind of handsome that even sleep deprivation couldn’t touch. Because, of course.
Chase shifted his weight just before he glanced in my direction. Crappers. I didn’t have time to look away or think of anything else to do but wave lamely and turn around to place my order. As I moved to the far end of the counter, a girl came up behind Chase and they chatted amiably. She was from our school and had the kind of looks you couldn’t forget, with a warm brown complexion and striking brown—almost amber—eyes. She’d be the sort of girl Chase would date. She leaned forward and placed a hand on his arm. I wondered if she was the jealous girlfriend when another guy walked up and placed his arm around her waist. Chase gave them a friendly nod as they left. I tried to watch him out of the corner of my eye as he gave the cashier his order and came to stand near me.
“Hi, Ember,” he said when I didn’t acknowledge him.
“Oh, hi,” I responded. So. Very. Lame.
“How’s your sister?” His tone was polite, and not at all intrusive, but that didn’t stop me from bristling.
“The same as she was yesterday,” I responded, letting acid soak my words.
He stepped away from me like I’d physically pushed him. Regret hit me with a jab to the stomach and frustration followed with a hook to the jaw. The foot-in-mouth one-two punch. Chase didn’t do anything to me, other than edge me out last year with a higher weighted GPA. I was the one who told him about April...as part of an elaborate ruse to trick his girlfriend into thinking he was unfaithful.
God. Already my part in the Red Court was blurring lines unexpectedly.
“I’m sorry,” I muttered, and then louder, “I’m just not used to people asking me about her.”
“It’s ok. I shouldn’t intrude. I was only making conversation.”
I stared at Damien behind the counter, my eyes pleading with him to hurry. He caught the look and slowed his movements.
REALLY?
The uncomfortable silence grew until it was unbearable. I broke first.
“How are you? You seem tired today.”
“You mean I look like shit?” he asked with a laugh. It was a nice laugh, easy and good-natured. I couldn’t remember hearing it before. At school, he was always the one making the jokes instead of laughing at them. Like he wouldn’t deign to chuckle at sophomoric humor.
“No, you don’t look like shit. You look like you pulled an all-nighter. Big test today?”
“I wish.” Another laugh, but rueful and a bit more reserved. “Actually, I was up half the night talking to my girlfriend. Well, I guess she’s technically my ex-girlfriend now. We broke up.”
“I’m sorry to hear that?”
Why did that come out as a question?!
He shrugged, clearly shooting for nonchalance and not pulling it off. “I think she has some trust issues to work through. She kept accusing me of being with other girls, which is ridiculous since I was with her nearly all the time.”
“Wow,” I said. What else do you say to the guy whose relationship you were part of a plot to destroy?
“I’m oversharing, aren’t I?”
“Not at all. You were so...nice to me yesterday, listening to my problems. The least I can do is listen to you, but you should know that my fees are pretty steep.”
He smiled. Cracking jokes with Chase was not part of my routine. My eyes lingered on his mouth and his lips that seemed too soft for a boy. Not in a bad way, but in a kissable way. Why was I noticing his mouth and thinking about kissing him? Focus, Ember. Get out of this conversation.
“I’m glad I did. We’ve never really had a real conversation before. Now twice in two days. It’s kind of weird that we keep running into each other.”
“Yes, but that’s life. Weird and unpredictable.” I scrambled to get the conversation back to safer territory before he thought to ask why I had been wandering the halls crying during class. “This breakup sounds like it’s a good thing. I couldn’t imagine being with someone who didn’t trust me.” Because I was SO trustworthy.
“You’re right. It is. It’ll just take some time getting used to it. I was with Madison for over a year. Our moms are close, so that will be tough around C
hristmas.”
“Don’t stress. Lots of people have awkward holidays. My grandmother comes over every Thanksgiving and performs this elaborate taste test where she literally tries every dish and gives a critique like we’re on Iron Chef. It’s pretty terrible.”
Silence with a side of awkward descended on us again, but this time Chase broke first.
“I didn’t set the curve for our last Lit test even though I got a ninety-six. Was it you?”
My smile escaped before I could put a leash on it. I absolutely set the curve; I missed only one question. “That’s too bad. Maybe next time.”
Damien finally called my name and I snagged my Americano off the counter, swallowing back a snarky remark. “I better run,” I said to Chase, lifting my coffee in salute. “See ya.”
“Until next time,” he said. I didn’t know if he meant the next time we saw each other or the next time we competed to set the curve on an exam. Both options sent shivers down my back.
I climbed into my car and heard an unfamiliar ring tone coming from my bag. It was my new Red Court cell phone.
I raced to dig it out and glanced at the display. It was Haley of course, though her name didn’t come up, only the number that had been saved alongside the mysterious Fire Alarm contact.
“Hello?” I answered, then added, “This is Ember.”
I heard a sigh. “Listen, Ember. I know you’re new to this game, but stay away from Chase Merriman.”
My mouth popped open and I looked around. I had no idea why because it wasn’t like I expected to see someone standing in the shadows with a sign that read “Red Court Spy,” but instinct prevailed and I closely examined everyone in the parking lot. A girl from my Geometry class was standing in front of the coffee shop texting. Could she be Haley’s eyes? She was something of a slacker, so not likely. But still, she could be watching me if she owed the Red Court a favor.
“How did you know I was talking to Chase? And it wasn’t like I planned to run into him. He was just there. And he started talking to me first.” My defense was thinner than tissue paper, even to me.
These Vengeful Hearts Page 4
