These Vengeful Hearts

by Katherine Laurin

  “Hear me out, please. I’ve supported your revenge plan even though I don’t agree with it. I never want to take your choices from you. I’ll never force your hand because I think it’s the right decision. It’s a lesson I learned the hard way. But I think you’ve been doing this for too long, pouring too much of yourself into it. I’m worried about you.”

  I crawled onto the bed next to her and put my head on her shoulder. “Thank you for being here for me.”

  “I’ll always be here for you. I just want you to know that you can walk away, even with everything that’s happened. I don’t want you to have to live with more regret than you have to.”

  I almost laughed. My sister, in all her sincerity, couldn’t know how much I already regretted what I’d done. But if I could get rid of the Red Court, I could move on. Things would be better. For me. For everyone at Heller. I could do this.

  I knew the players, and now I had to stack the odds in my favor. I needed to refocus all my energy into dismantling the Red Court like I should have from the very beginning. Instead, I’d let myself get swept away by the current of power that the Red Court ran on. The regret would fade if I succeeded. I knew it would.

  When I didn’t respond, April moved on. She was giving me the space to make my own choices, no matter that she’d chose something different for me. “Are you upset that it’s Haley?” April’s tone was careful, questioning, and it felt like her keen eyes asked me the same question a thousand different ways.

  “Yes.” There was no point in lying about what I so obviously couldn’t conceal, but I couldn’t admit the whole truth to April. “I’m upset that she was there, right in front of me, and I was too caught up in...other distractions to see it.”

  April seemed to accept my answer, but the lie cost me. My sister was probably the last person who saw me, the whole truth of who I was, and had yet to turn away. Choosing to lie to her again was choosing to further the distance between us. But the truth was that I was angry with myself for not seeing Haley for what she was, and a small, naive part of my brain stung at her betrayal. She was my partner, and she’d kept her part in the Red Court a secret.

  The Queen of Hearts was always the goal, but perhaps my narrow focus on her alone was what held me back. My plan was to cut the head off the snake. That no longer seemed like enough. “My original plan was never going to work. I need to get all of them, not just Haley. The Red Court’s foundation isn’t built on her.” I considered how dangerous someone like Gretchen could be if she moved into Haley’s vacant role. “It’s designed to withstand the defection of any one member, even the Queen of Hearts. She may be the most powerful player on the board, but any pawn could take the game.”

  “You’re mixing metaphors. What are you talking about?”

  “I’m saying that it isn’t enough to remove Haley. I need to find every other member, too. All of them have to be taken out all at once, or they could just rebuild the Red Court without her.”

  April nodded in understanding. “So, what’s next?”

  “I have four of the thirteen members if you count Haley, Shauna, Gretchen, and me. Haley is the key to unlocking the rest, but I don’t know where the door is.”

  When Haley granted me access to the Red Court’s ledger of favors owed for Gideon’s takedown, I’d saved a copy for myself and pored over every entry but didn’t find anything that indicated who the rest of the Red Court was. The Red Court relied on playing cards for communication from the Queen of Hearts, but the rest was done via text. I grabbed my phone from my bag and stared at it.

  “What are you thinking?” April shifted my way and I held the phone closer for her to see the contacts list.

  There was only a single number with no label for Haley and the Fire Alarm. Haley had the same phone and no other. Not even a personal one.

  “I wonder if everyone else’s phone numbers are in Haley’s phone. If I could get ahold of it, I might be able to check.”

  April chewed on her lip, thinking of holes in my thought process. “Would she have names and numbers stored in her phone or just numbers? Seems like a liability to keep names—even first names—on a phone like that.”

  “Burners and their numbers have to change every so often or they could be lost or stolen. I don’t think she could reliably remember every new number. My gut says the bigger risk is in leaving only the numbers listed. She could accidentally message the wrong person. If it were me, I’d label them.”

  I felt a flare of excitement as my mind raced ahead of our conversation and began to forge new paths, chasing ideas like they were the White Rabbit. Haley wouldn’t be so careless as to leave her phone unattended, even for a few minutes. That would be the hardest part.

  “So, how do you get the phone?”

  “I need her to willingly leave her bag with me. That’s the key. She has to trust me so implicitly that she doesn’t think twice about walking away. That might be hard. She’s been keeping a careful eye on me, and I don’t think she does trust me anymore.”

  The best way to get Haley to do something she wouldn’t ordinarily do was to put her in an unfamiliar situation away from her routine.

  “What’s something you have in common, something you could build on?” April asked.

  “The only thing I know she loves is art.” I couldn’t think of a foothold for me to grasp onto when it came to art. The closest thing I had to any art knowledge was the handful of trips I’d made to the art museum. “The museum.”

  “The art museum?”

  “What if I could get us into Final Friday?”

  Final Friday was a popular series of events at the art museum. The best local restaurants provided appetizers and drinks, and they always had great live music. It was a hell of a way to spend a Friday night, eating and drinking your way through a mostly empty museum. It was also twenty-one and over.

  “How are you going to get in? I can’t even buy tickets.”

  “April? Are you ready to go?” our mom called from down the hall.

  My thoughts churned ahead, already planning this new angle. There was one person who could most definitely get tickets, but I couldn’t be the one to ask. “I was hoping you might ask Mom.”

  “Ember,” April said. “Come on.”

  As kids in the Williams household, we learned quickly that asking for something for yourself was the quickest route to a hard no. If we asked for something for someone else, we stood a puncher’s chance. It was a risk.

  “This could work. This could be the thing that ends the Red Court for good, April. Please.”

  Our mom appeared in the doorway of April’s room to take her to a doctor’s appointment.

  “Are you ready, darling?” Our mom’s delicate features were tired, but she rallied with a warm smile.

  April’s eyes held the hint of annoyance as she said, “Mom, Ember and I have been thinking of something nice to do for a friend of hers. She’s really into art but hasn’t been having an easy time lately. Do you think you might be able to get them tickets to Final Friday? It was my suggestion, but I completely understand if you don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  Mom’s job as an event director at the nonprofit she worked for meant she had connections at venues all over the city, including the art museum.

  “Well, I’m not sure if it would be allowed. Although, Henry will be there to keep an eye on you, and he does owe me a favor. I’ll give him a call and see.”

  * * *

  The following day, I breezed through the doors of Hell High in possession of a plan. My mom had sweet-talked her friend Henry into reserving two tickets for me. Now all I needed was a plus-one for Friday night.

  I shot a quick text to Haley before first period.

  Me: Can u meet?

  A moment later brought her terse reply.

  Haley: is it important?

  Me: Yes.

 
Haley: whatever

  I took that response as implied agreement and bolted to the theater room to wait.

  I’d barely sat on Haley’s usual slouchy couch before the door banged open and I leapt back onto my feet.

  “What?” Haley was in torn black jeans splattered with white paint, looking like she was wearing her art.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Haley turned to leave, but I reached out and tugged on her bag before she could duck out.

  “Wait! I didn’t ask you to come here so I could apologize.”

  She turned back to glare at me. “Then why?”

  “My mom got tickets to Final Friday this week at the art museum, and I wanted to see if you wanted to go. If we’re going to keep working together, we need to be a team.” I kept my tone light and widened my eyes hopefully.

  “You want me to go...with you?”

  “Yeah, as a peace offering. I know you said you weren’t interested in being my friend, but I don’t know anyone else who would appreciate it more than you. And...” I paused and pretended to struggle with my apology. “I’m sorry for what I said about you not caring. That wasn’t fair. If you don’t want to, I can let my mom know. She can release the tickets back to the museum. I’m sure they’d have no problem selling them—”

  “No, I want to go. But I don’t have a fake ID. How are we going to get in?”

  “Don’t worry about that. My mom’s contact said it was fine. They just won’t give us ID-check bracelets for the bar.”

  Haley looked skeptical, but I knew I couldn’t push. If this was going to work, Haley had to come on her own.

  “I have always wanted to go.” She spoke like it was an admission of guilt, and I laughed.

  “Like I said, it’s up to you.” I held my hands up and let them casually fall to my sides. “You don’t even have to go with me if you don’t want to. I can have them leave the tickets at will-call for you.”

  I left my baited trap wide-open and waited. This was the make-or-break moment in the plan. There was no further cajoling. I had something I knew Haley wanted; I just didn’t know how badly she wanted it and what she was willing to risk to get it. If there was one thing I learned through the Red Court, it was that wanting was a powerful thing.

  “No, I would feel bad if you didn’t get to go, too. Thanks for the offer. I would like the extra ticket.”

  Her gratitude seemed genuine, but we didn’t live in a world where I took anything she said at face value. Not anymore.

  “Ok, let’s meet there. Doors open at 7:00 p.m.” The first bell rang, and I gathered my things. “See you later.” Saying goodbye, when I’d been explicitly told not to, was my final test. Her response would tell me where I stood.

  “Bye, Ember.” She gave me the smallest of smiles.

  A flare of triumph rose up inside me and I gave her my brightest smile in return. It was my turn to deal the cards, and I was working with a stacked deck.

  CHAPTER 39

  I STOOD AWKWARDLY outside the art museum that Friday night, trying to look like I belonged. Among the glittering crowd in designer jeans and stilettos, my standard jeans and T-shirt would have stood out too much, and not in a good way. April served as my stylist for the night, vetoing almost every outfit I tried on. We’d finally dug out a teal sequin tank and black jeans that I paired with an old pair of her heeled boots. My mom contributed the black satin blazer to complete the look.

  I felt ridiculous. And cold. Ridiculously cold. Even with all my ploys as part of the Red Court, I’d never felt more like a fraud than I did amid a crush of adults like a kid playing dress-up. Plus, the kohl eyeliner April had insisted on was irritating my eyes. My hands itched with anxiety, and it took all of my practice not to rub them along the rough denim fabric of my jeans.

  “What are you doing?” I heard Haley’s voice from behind me. She emerged from the throng pushing their way into the warmth of the museum and looked me up and down. Her critical expression confirmed I looked like as big of a fraud as I feared. Haley was in her standard black-on-black ensemble, wild blond curls fluttering around her face in the icy wind.

  “Blending in.” I gave her a slight sneer.

  She slowed her steps and eyed the security stationed at the door checking IDs. “Are you sure we’re going to get in? If I paid twenty dollars to park for nothing...”

  “Relax. It’s going to be fine. We’re not even going in this entrance.”

  We skirted the side of the building and I located the service door for employees in an alley. A guy a few years older than us stood outside in shiny black shoes and a black wool coat. He was cute in a I-probably-like-to-sail-and-have-a-ski-chalet-in-Vail kind of way.

  “Are you Ember?” he asked as we approached him.

  “I am.” I flashed him a confident, toothy smile. “Is Henry coming to meet us?”

  “Unfortunately, he had to deal with a catering issue and asked me to wait for you.” He eyed us critically and had probably surmised we were not twenty-one. “I’m Ethan. I intern for Henry.”

  “Well, thanks for waiting for us. I’ll be sure to let my mom know that you guys took such great care of us.” I reached out and gave his arm a squeeze to punctuate my words, lest he get cold feet about letting us in. Haley glanced sidelong at me. It was amazing how much desperation could motivate a person to step out of their comfort zone.

  After another moment of hesitation, he stood to the side and passed an ID badge over the door’s keypad. “This way.” He swung the heavy door open and a blast of hot air blew my hair up around my face in an honest-to-goodness Marilyn Monroe moment.

  Ethan led us through the busy kitchen. Servers in black vests swooped in and out of the melee while white-coated cooks bellowed that more duck confit appetizers were ready. My stomach rumbled in response to the intoxicating scents of citrus and spice.

  Shutting down the urge to reach out and swipe some of the hors d’oeuvres from the silver trays moving swiftly past me, I risked a glance at Haley. The grin plastered on her face told me I made the right choice in bringing her here. Already her hard exterior had cracked, revealing a girl giddy with the thrill of stealing into a VIP event.

  “Think I can get us a couple of wristbands for the bar?” I whispered to Haley. My mom trusted Henry enough to keep us out of any real trouble, but she didn’t know Ethan.

  Haley seemed to remember herself and tucked away her smile, giving me an indifferent shrug. “If you think you can without getting us escorted out.”

  I quirked my brow at her. “Challenge accepted.”

  We followed Ethan out of the kitchen and into the atrium at the museum’s entrance. The airy space was lit with strands of lights overhead and an electric guitar could be heard crashing down from somewhere on the second floor.

  “Thank you again.” I turned to head up the escalators before pulling up short. Making a good show of looking around, I turned back to Ethan. “Is it going to be weird that we don’t have bracelets like everyone else? I just don’t want to look too obvious.”

  My performance lacked delicacy, and Ethan took the bait, shooting me a skeptical look. “Oh, so you promise if I get you two wristbands that you won’t touch a drop of alcohol?”

  I raised my palms to him in coy admission. “Ok, so I wouldn’t go that far. But I won’t tell if you won’t.”

  He shook his head at my exaggerated wink and ducked behind the docent’s counter. There were a few small boxes stored out of sight and I watched with a smile as he produced two red wristbands from a packet.

  I held my hand out for him to fasten it around my wrist. There was no use in hiding the sparkle of triumph I felt. Ethan gave me one more indulgent smile before doing the same to Haley and excusing himself.

  “Alright, I’m impressed.” Haley flicked her finger against her wristband. “That was pretty great.”

  My heart was stil
l pounding, and I took a deep breath to calm myself. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Please. You played that guy hard. And the best part is that he knew he was getting played and did it, anyway. He was happy about it.”

  I let out a laugh and we joined the crowd at the bottom of the stairs. “Yeah, he did. Couldn’t you see how much he wanted to do it?”

  My smile faded as Gideon came to mind. I wished he was with me to witness that. Maybe he would understand why being in the Red Court was so easy. How grifting Ethan the intern was second nature to me. It was hard to dislike something you were so good at, but I was trying to keep my head above water this time, keeping my goal in mind. The Red Court wouldn’t pull me under again.

  Gideon’s memory was a palate cleanser for my mind. I remembered that the friend standing next to me wasn’t Gideon. She was a lie.

  “Where should we go first?” I asked when we stepped onto the second floor.

  Haley was reaching for her phone and I watched as she typed in her password. Her lack of care at my seeing it told me all I needed to know about the likelihood of her leaving the phone with me. She didn’t look up until I cleared my throat loudly at her.

  “What?”

  “I asked where you wanted to go. Is something going on...” I left room for the unspoken words in my question: With the Red Court?

  “It’s nothing.” Haley tossed her phone carelessly back into her bag. “I want to see the Warhol pieces they have on loan.”

  She marched in the direction of the Modern & Contemporary Art wing, her gait easy but her shoulders tight. How did I not see before how hard she worked at not caring? Her demeanor was more curated than the art on display.

  I gave Haley a bit of distance and stopped the first harassed-looking server with a tray of drinks that came my way. Someone already put out with other patrons was less likely to look at me twice. My hesitation nearly gave me away as she asked if I wanted red or white.

  “Can’t we mix them together and make a rosé?” I asked as a joke.