“Indispensable gifts are bestowed on a worthy warrior. Ask, and if it’s God’s will, it shall be given.”
She rubbed her nose with the back of her finger, thinking, and then pulled the coverlet to her chin. “I wouldn’t call myself worthy.” When Markus didn’t comment, she said, “Let’s talk about that lightning thingy. I can do that now?”
“Well, I kind of helped. We’ll practice that again.”
She frowned. “Okay, now I want to know exactly what happened. You tell me to meet you in the backyard at sunset, and then you don’t show, and the forest is chocked-full of demons. What the heck is that?”
He receded a few feet and lowered to the one chair in the room. “You are unique, Jordan.” Sitting straight as an arrow, he crossed his arms, his muscles flexing. “My Father would like you trained as well as humanly possible. Remember, you are a warrior, chosen to battle the unmentionable fiends.”
“Why? Why me? I’m . . . I’m only a girl. And not a holier-than-thou girl. Just me. Why not pick someone . . . someone like the strongest man in the universe or the holiest person alive?”
“Our Father picks the weakest and makes them strong,” he said with a captivating smile.
AFTER MARKUS EVAPORATED, Jordan hastily dressed for her meeting with the girls at Taste. She was already behind schedule. The minute she turned the corner, she noticed the lively multicolored umbrella’s poking out of café tables, festooning the front terrace of the coffeehouse. The red brick building, with its signature logo of an enormous coffee cup and saucer, was smoking with mist over the roof. Aromatic coffee and desserts wafted on currents, enticing the populace.
Paisley sat at one of the tables, pecking at her cell phone. As if sensing Jordan’s approach, she swiveled on her seat and lifted her chin. “What happened to your face? Did Thrill play a little too rough?” she insinuated with a blatant expression of approval.
Jordan grinned at her remark. “I fell, nothing serious.” She’d dabbed skin-tone concealer on her bruises before leaving the house. Evidently, it hadn’t helped. “Where’s Cayden?”
Pulling back a chrome chair, she sat opposite of Paisley. Jordan couldn’t prevent her eyes from straying to the girl’s shape and her overflowing boobs in a low-cut shirt. Her pinned-up platinum-blonde hair sported a dyed black stripe on the left side of her head. Paisley had admitted it was in memorial for their deceased friend, Ronan. Jordan watched as the lone black strand waved in the breeze.
Jordan didn’t need a reminder of Ronan or her bewitching spells. That night would forever be imprinted on her memory. Lucifer had made an unprecedented appearance. The walls had wept, sprayed with Martin Beckman’s blood. Markus had usurped Lucifer in a cataclysmic battle. Beckman’s house had shattered during the battle, and devilish fire had burned it to the ground. Ronan’s body had never been recovered.
“Cayden said she’d be late,” Paisley said, abstractedly coiling the loose strand of hair over her finger. “Do you want to order something?”
Jordan blinked as the memory faded. “I’ll wait.” She peered over Paisley’s head saying, “Cayden’s coming down the sidewalk now.”
Paisley swerved on her seat, rendering Jordan a clear view of the tattoo on the nape of her neck, a circled snake biting its tail and centered in the middle the five-pointed star.
Cayden Rotella, the one friend Jordan had known prior to attending Elma High, gamboled up the walk as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Lanky, almost six-feet tall, she looked all legs in a pair of jean shorts, teal tank top, and pink sequined flip-flops. She gestured a hand as a hello.
Coming closer, her upper lip bent and her nose wrinkled as if looking at Jordan made her feel icky. “Hey, what happened to your face?”
“Nothing serious, I tripped,” Jordan repeated.
Cayden slung her purse handle over the back of the chair before taking a seat. “Are we having something to eat?”
“I ordered non-sweetened iced tea. That stupid waitress hasn’t returned yet.” Paisley glanced impatiently toward Taste’s doorway. “I was waiting for you guys to order food.”
Jordan thought of the paltry five-dollar bill folded in her back pocket. When the waitress appeared, she ordered a bagel and a glass of water.
Sitting there on a textbook summer’s day, the girls had a prime location for people watching. Main Street was a bustle with tourists sightseeing in and out of the quaint shops.
The Wooly Lamb, known for their winter gear, had a window display of a lamb wearing a flowery bikini and a wide-brimmed sunbonnet.
The Five and Dime, with its heralding red and white striped awnings, featured old-fashioned, timeless toys that had children dragging their parents into the store.
After the waitress had supplied the table with their orders, Jordan bit into the crispy bagel with relish. “I’m moving into the city for the summer,” she said between chews, “or at least for a few weeks.”
Cayden and Paisley ceased munching long enough to goggle at her.
Paisley spoke first. “What about Thrill?”
Jordan looked at the girl who’d steal Thrill away from her in a jiffy. “I didn’t get around to telling him yet,” she admitted.
Paisley’s mouth gathered as she scratched the side of her jaw. Jordan could almost see the cogs turning in the girl’s cranium. She’d better act quick, or else Thrill would hear it from Paisley before she had a chance to explain.
“Have you gone all the way, yet?” Paisley asked out of the blue. “Because Thrill’s one of those eager kind of guys, if you don’t know already. You’re giving him something, right?” Her kohl-lined eyes held Jordan’s and proved the girl had experience. “You’ll be tossed aside and replaced within a week after you’re gone.”
“Stop it,” Cayden snapped, nudging Paisley’s arm. “It’s none of our business.”
The sexual topic intimidated Jordan, who recalled Thrill needling her on a few occasions and her hard-set refusal.
Nixing the sex talk, Cayden asked, “What about Twisted Tour? Are you going?”
“Sure, why not?” Jordan fumbled with a napkin and blotted the moisture accumulating on her upper lip and under her eyes. “It’s in Buffalo, and that’s where I’ll be. My mom’s been pretty sick. That’s why I’m moving to the city for a while.” She noted their combined sympathetic and insensitive facial twinges, as if she was getting the raw end of the deal.
“That’s gross, don’t you think?” Paisley piped up with a clump of bread sticking out of her mouth. “Your mom having a baby at her age? You’re almost eighteen. You’ll have a baby sister or brother. Weird.” She then wolfed down the remnant of a turkey Panini and scraped together leftover crumbs with her fingertips, sucking them between her lips.
Following Paisley’s rude comment, Cayden gave an exasperated sigh. “I think it’s cool,” she made an attempt at sounding cheerful. “Jordan’s mom finding true love with Mr. Donavan, after all these years, and having a baby.” Her baton-like fingers touched Jordan’s arm in a sisterly fashion. “Now that’s really romantic.”
“She’ll never really know the kid.” Paisley was never one to mince words, and Jordan listened with an attentive ear. “You’ll be off to college,” Paisley went on. “And when you graduate from college the kid with be going into kindergarten. Like I said, it’s weird.”
Weighing all the options, Jordan disagreed. “Mom’s happy. I’m happy. I can’t wait. I think it’ll be great.” Although, her words didn’t quite come out joyous, more like stilted. That damn vision of a demon baby was putting a damper on the special occasion. “I haven’t asked my mom yet, but I was thinking maybe the two of you might come and stay a few days to hang out or something. I’m going to look for a part-time job while I’m there, so I guess it depends on that.”
“I like Buffalo,” said Paisley. “That’d be cool.”
“I don’t know if my mom will let me.” Cayden’s face dropped. “She’s always despised the city. She says it’s full of degenerates
. But maybe if your mom talks to mine, she’ll say it’s okay.”
“I’m sure that can be arranged.” Jordan crumpled the leftover bit of bagel in a napkin and tossed it in a trashcan. Then she brought up a subject dear to her heart, although her friends would more than likely think she was a geeky Holy Roller. “Tomorrow morning, at St. Mary’s Church, I’m having a mass offered for Ronan. If you guys want to come, I’ll pick you up. It starts at 11:30.”
Paisley burst out laughing, and Cayden’s mouth turned up at the rims as if she’d mentioned something gross.
Jordan ignored Paisley. She was used to being an outcast and ridiculed for her devotions. “I thought her soul could use some cleansing.”
“Her soul!” Paisley snorted. “Come on. Be real.” She scowled at Jordan as if she was a freak of nature.
Cayden looked sideways at Paisley, as if what she was about to say might cause a backlash. “Since Ronan’s gone,” she said to Jordan. “I don’t feel the need to be so devoted anymore.”
“Devoted? To what?” Now, Paisley glared at Cayden as if she was from outer space. “Don’t tell me she’s been filling your head with heavenly crap?” Paisley turned on Jordan, her face knotted in a snarl.
“Do you believe there’s a devil?” Jordan asked.
Paisley had a stubborn set to her bottom lip. “No, not really.”
“Well, guess what? You will when you meet him.”
ONE DAY YOUR KNEES WILL BEND
“YOU DON’T SCARE me,” Paisley said. “I used to think Ronan was threatening, at least with her power, but you? No way.”
“You’re in denial. Where do you think Ronan got her power?”
Paisley’s mouth thinned, she had no quick comeback.
“All this talk is making me sick.” Cayden’s shoulders hunched as she held a palm to her stomach. “Ronan’s games used to be fun. That’s all I want to remember.”
Jordan wasn’t giving up on her friends, but for today she remarked, “Fine, don’t go to church. But one day, you’ll be brought to your knees, and then—” She didn’t finish her sentence, and flicked crumbs from the table top. “Faith will help get you through life’s upheavals. God helps—” She broke off as she sighted Paisley’s exaggerated eye rolling as if she was completely wacked.
Jordan checked the time on her cell. “I’d better get going.” Since the end of the school term, Thrill’s lunch breaks had become a nice little ritual, which she looked forward to. “Thrill’s coming to my house for lunch,” she said, purposely razzing Paisley, knowing full well she’d be jealous.
“Oh, Jordan,” Paisley said with spite. “Tell Thrill I had a good time last night.” She watched her like a hawk in hopes of spotting envy on Jordan’s face.
“Sure.” Jordan faked it, as if Thrill had already disclosed his activities of the previous evening. “I’ll see you guys later.” Hoping she looked more self-assured than she felt, she moved away, her chest tightening. With a false grin of confidence, she straightened her shoulders, walked around the corner of the building, and then drooped.
Paisley and Thrill had shared more than friendship over the years, and her bold insinuation was disturbing. Ever since Jordan had caught Thrill’s eye, Paisley had gone out of her way to show her jealous streak. Ironically, it had been the deceased Ronan who’d insisted Paisley needed to move on because Thrill was no longer interested. Jordan was now having second thoughts. Then, recently, Markus had talked of her boyfriend as being advanced. The thoughts sent her mind racing.
Yesterday, she’d forgotten to call Thrill. And with Markus’s untimely arrival and speeding to the city, all thoughts of him had vanished. She’d spent the afternoon with her mom and the evening combating demons in the woods. She groaned. Thrill was probably pissed.
Retrieving her cell from the pocket of her shorts, she read three missed calls. She listened to her voice mails. One was from her mom, saying how much she’d enjoyed their visit and looked forward to her moving in. Then the second and third voice mail was from a curt Thrill saying, “Call me.”
She tapped in his number. It went straight to voice mail. Darn it. She felt like a dumbass for leaving him hanging. New to the boyfriend thingy, she hated being insecure, and wondered if Paisley was filling the gap. Jordan drove home in Henry’s car, knowing at that exact moment, Paisley was providing Thrill with the details Jordan wanted to delicately discuss.
She sped down her deserted street and saw Thrill’s car parked next to the curb. She stowed the car in the garage, recalling Henry’s latest squawk. ‘I want it parked in the garage because the birds are using my car for their private dumping ground, ruining the paint job.’ She’d maintained a tight hold of her tongue, doubting the birds were targeting his car.
She performed a double check in the rearview mirror and dabbed her shiny face with a tissue. Then she grimaced at the resurfacing red welts, better than yesterday but still obvious. Her rebellious hair was useless. She swept it into a ponytail before elbowing out of the car. She scampered to the door, nearly bungling her feet, and prayed her grandparents weren’t divulging inappropriate tales of her nerdy childhood.
The squeal of the screen door alerted the kitchen occupants of her arrival. They smothered their chuckles as she entered. Gazing past Thrill’s tight-lipped smirk, Jordan landed on Em’s twinkling eyes.
“We were keeping your young man company,” said Em. “We told him you must’ve been held up with your friends.”
As if on cue, her grandparents eased from their chairs and hobbled out of the door, offering them privacy. Jordan pictured Em meticulously picking weeds in her budding gardens while Henry sat idly by, pointing to the patches she’d missed.
“It was nice talking to you, Mr. and Mrs. Kubiak,” said Thrill loudly, as if assuming her grandparents were hard of hearing.
Henry reopened the screen and poked his head between the doorframes. “Remember, I’m keeping my eyes on you.” He raised two fingers to his eyes then pointed at Thrill, and when the screen breezed shut, they heard Henry’s grainy chuckle.
Thrill veered toward her, his smile slipping from his face. A smudge of grease streaked the hollow of his cheek, an indication he’d come straight from work. He wore ratty jean shorts and a grimy black tee, and the odor of motor oil emanated from him.
“Sorry I’m late,” she apologized, “but I promised to meet the girls at Taste.” She noticed the empty glass of ice tea stationed in front of him. Walking to the fridge, she snagged the pitcher, refilled his glass, and poured one for herself.
Thrill surveyed her every move. “What happened to your face?”
“I fell. It’s nothing.” She sat in the chair next to him.
“When? Last night? Because I wasn’t with you last night.” He sounded patronizing. “I called twice. Where the hell were you?”
She didn’t appreciate his tone, though, she felt accountable for his nasty behavior. Besides that, she was trapped into conjuring an excuse for her bruises and for not returning his calls. She’d parted her mouth to speak when his cell beeped with an incoming text.
Jordan said, “Do you want to get that?”
“It’s Paisley,” he replied without looking. “She called earlier when I was talking to your grandparents. I muted the ring. I didn’t want to be rude.”
His eyes darkened, waiting for an explanation. This must be the flipside to the charming Thrill. Yet, she was relieved Paisley had been unable to snitch on her impending move. She rolled her vertebrae against the back of the chair, somewhat in a pickle. Slaughtering demons was easy compared to boyfriend stuff.
Recollecting Paisley’s insinuation, her own hackles spiked. “Before I forget, Paisley wanted me to tell you she had a good time last night.” Sarcasm dripped from her mouth. “Evidently, you were in capable hands.” She tried analyzing his expression on the hard planes of his face. “I spent the afternoon with my mom, and after dinner, I took a long walk.”
His eyes narrowed faintly, and then the buoyant smile returned. �
��Oh, you were with your mom,” he said with a skeptical sidelong glance. “You should’ve called. I was worried.” He guzzled the ice tea and set the empty glass on the table. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, said, “Just a walk, you say?”
She ignored his question and flipped to one of her own. “So, you were with Paisley last night?”
She pulled at the hem of her tank top and crossed her arms. She’d believed their relationship was exclusive, at least on her part. Essentially, that dialogue had never come up, and now she wondered if he was vying for girls on the sly.
“Paisley called me.” He shifted in the chair with a change of attitude and jiggled the ice cubes in his empty glass. “Jordan, there’s something you’re forgetting. Paisley and I were Ronan’s friends since fourth grade. We’re still having a hard time dealing with her death, and when Paisley phoned, she was a blubbering fool and all.” He averted his eyes as his fingers mopped the condensation forming on the glass.
“So that was a good time?”
He became defensive. “Yeah, in a reminiscent sort of way. We talked about old times and did a lot of laughing. So, yes, I guess it was a good time.”
She sipped the refreshing tea and decided to break the news. “Thrill, I want to be honest with you. My mother asked me to move into the city for the summer.”
His brow raised high on his forehead then came together over speculating eyes.
“I’m going to look for a part-time job,” she inserted, “and help my mom. She’s been sick a lot with the baby and all. I’ll be back in Elma a lot, and I’m hoping you’ll come and visit me.”
Ousting an airy puff through his mouth, his shoulders sunk. “Wow. I didn’t see that coming.” He sucked in his lips for a moment. “My dad has me working so much lately that I hardly get a chance to see you now. And football training starts in the beginning of August. It doesn’t leave us much time.”
“I probably won’t spend the summer, possibly a month.” Browsing his piqued features, she added, “Maybe only a few weeks.”
Wickedly They Dream Page 7
