Serpent's Sacrifice (The Vigilantes Book 1)

by Trish Heinrich

  Alice thought of several things to say, but all of them felt so empty. In the end, she put her arm around Marco’s broad shoulders and hugged him. When she looked up, his olive skin was flushed and he ducked his head to keep from meeting her eyes. She wondered if she’d embarrassed him, though Marco had never minded physical affection before.

  But then, his thin lips twitched with the hint of a smile, and Alice knew it was alright.

  “What are you drinking?” Lionel asked.

  “Gin and tonic,” Marco said.

  “Just club soda,” Alice said.

  Lionel scoffed. “What? No, it’s on me. How about champagne?”

  Alice shook her head. “No, really, I...I don’t really like it.”

  Lionel stared at her for a moment, then nodded and said, “Okay, sure.”

  He ordered the drinks and an uncomfortable silence settled around them, for which Alice felt responsible. In the span of a few minutes, she’d opened a terrible memory for Marco and made Lionel uncomfortable, because she didn’t drink.

  When she looked up at Lionel to apologize, she noticed that his nose definitely looked better. There was virtually no swelling now, and the bruised skin had lightened to a yellow-green. She was about to ask about it when the drinks arrived.

  “So,” Lionel said, “you don’t drink?”

  Alice sighed. “No, I don’t. I tried it, I don’t like it.” She hoped her tone would indicate that she really didn’t want to talk about it, but Lionel wouldn’t be put off.

  “Not ever? I mean, not even to celebrate meeting long lost friends?”

  She shook her head.

  “Maybe you haven’t tried the right drink.”

  “Lionel...” Marco’s voice held a hint of warning.

  “I don’t want to,” Alice felt her body tensing.

  “Why not? I mean it’s just strange. Everyone drinks.”

  “Well, not me.” She was trying to sound firm, but it came out snappish.

  “Maybe we should drop it, it’s not that important,” Marco said.

  “I’m sorry, I just think it’s a little weird.”

  “Do you remember my dad, Lionel? The one who’d drink, and then beat my mother? Well, it’s strange, but I just don’t care to be like him, okay?”

  Lionel looked down at his drink and Marco stared up at the ceiling.

  “Excuse me,” she said, practically shoving Marco out in her haste to leave the table. “I need to...go.”

  “Wait,” Lionel grabbed her arm as she passed him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think.”

  “No, you didn’t. Are you always this self-involved?”

  A look of shock crossed his beautiful features.

  Alice sighed. “I’m sorry. You’re pushy, and I speak before I think. We’d make quite a pair...of friends, pair of friends I mean.”

  Lionel chuckled. “Yeah, we will.”

  “I just...I didn’t like the kind of drunk I was, the few times I tried it. And I just decided it was best to stay away from it, in case...well, in case I’m anything like him.”

  Lionel’s eyes held hers and Alice felt like she was the only one in the smoke-filled room.

  “I know I haven’t seen you in twelve years, but I doubt you’re anything like him.”

  She smiled, her body relaxing into a pleasant warmth as Lionel’s thumb slowly rubbed her arm.

  “Please, sit down?” he asked.

  “Alright...”

  “Should we toast?” Marco asked, once Alice was once again seated between them.

  “To old friends,” Lionel said.

  The love song ended and their glasses clinked. As the quick beat of a new song began, Alice felt her spirits rise. She had never thought she would see Lionel and Marco again. Despite her best intentions, she’d lost track of them soon after moving to Jet City. But now, here they were, the three of them, sitting in Solomon’s Lounge, laughing and talking as if no time had passed.

  “How did you two find me?” she asked, once the food arrived.

  Lionel tucked in immediately, his cheeks bulging with spaghetti.

  “I saw you earlier, remember?” Marco said.

  “Yeah, but was that an accident, I mean did you know my aunt owned that shop?”

  “I was just walking around before my interview and there you were.” Marco’s eyes settled on her, warm with happiness.

  Alice shook her head. “That seems...” A little too convenient.

  “I know,” Lionel said, around the pasta in his mouth. “What are the chances?”

  “But then, how did you know? You showed up there, too.”

  Lionel washed his food down with a generous swallow of whiskey. “I had lunch with Marco and he told me.”

  She looked at Marco, who seemed too focused on his plate of food.

  “But, why didn’t you tell me who you were when you saw me this morning?”

  “I just...well, I didn’t know if it would be strange seeing me there after all this time.”

  Alice frowned as she took a bite of steak and potatoes. It had been a long time since she’d talked with Marco, but she could still tell when something was wrong. And though he may not be lying to her completely, he was definitely leaving something out.

  What is he keeping from me? And why?

  “What job was the interview for?” she asked.

  Marco smiled. “The Jet City Chronicle was looking for a photographer.”

  “And you got the job?”

  He nodded. “I’m at the bottom of the list, and it’s practically no pay, but I’m a photographer.”

  “I don’t get the appeal,” Lionel mumbled through a mouthful of bread.

  “Earning a living, or taking pictures?” Marco asked.

  “Both.”

  “Not everyone can afford to lay around all day and date socialites.”

  Lionel shrugged. “Only the fortunate ones, I guess.”

  Marco shook his head and laughed.

  “So, you don’t have a job?” Alice asked Lionel.

  “I have an agreement with my step-father. He pays me to stay away from him and my mother. What I’m more interested in is why you have a degree in business.”

  Alice opened her mouth to answer and closed it. “I never told you I had a degree in business.”

  The corners of his mouth froze in a tight smile.

  “You mentioned college in the cab before we got here,” Marco said.

  “Yeah, and I just figured, you know, with the book store and everything.”

  Alice studied them both as they ate. Something itched at the back of her mind, like a puzzle piece you swear you just saw, but now can’t find.

  “How long have you two been in Jet City?” she asked.

  Lionel shrugged, and was about to answer, when Marco cut him off. “Awhile, few months.”

  “Just a few months?”

  “Yep,” Lionel said.

  “How many is a few?”

  “What does it matter?” Lionel asked.

  “Why won’t you say?”

  “Is something wrong?” Marco asked.

  Alice focused on her plate, trying to figure out what it was that made her feel as if they were talking around something very important. But nothing came to mind.

  “No...” She smiled. “Sorry, I just...after last night, I’m a little jumpy.”

  “That’s right,” Lionel said, accepting another whiskey on the rocks from the waiter. “You were going to tell us why you broke my nose.”

  “Except,” she reached out to touch Lionel’s nose, “I don’t think I did. It barely looks hurt at all.”

  Lionel leaned back and gave a nervous chuckle. “I’ve always been a fast healer. Now, this fight. What happened?”

  “I was just closing up when these men came at me.”

  “And what did you do?” Marco asked.

  Alice smiled and launched into her tale, not leaving a moment of the fight out, except the part where the vigilantes showed up. Something told her to let tha
t go. Who would believe her anyway?

  Telling the story was almost as exhilarating as the actual fight. By the time she was done, Alice was practically bouncing up and down in the booth from excitement.

  “That sounds incredibly dangerous.” Lionel frowned.

  “You could’ve gotten really hurt,” Marco said.

  “But, I didn’t. I’m not a weak little girl anymore. I’ve worked very hard to make sure that I won’t ever be that way again. The first time someone tried to make me vulnerable, I was the one who was left standing, not them.”

  “Not without help though,” Lionel said.

  Alice stared at him. “How do you know that?”

  “What?”

  “You had help.”

  “I didn’t say—”

  “Yeah, you did.”

  Her stomach dropped. “No...I didn’t.”

  She really studied Lionel then. Ignoring the devastating good looks, she imagined him with a mask, the yellow light of street lamp shining behind him.

  American Steel was very tall and broad-shouldered, and his voice may have been only a little lower than Lionel’s.

  “Are you...?”

  “Alice—” Marco’s voice was low with apology.

  “Marco...” Lionel’s voice held threat and fear.

  “She’s too smart to not know. And it’s not like you were doing very good at keeping it from her,” Marco countered.

  “Now you’re just confirming it!”

  “And if you’d just let me answer some of her questions, maybe she wouldn’t have figured it out,” added Marco.

  “So, it’s my fault?” Lionel dropped his chunk of garlic bread on his plate.

  “Yes, actually.”

  Alice felt her world tilt and contract all at once. The whole night made sense now. Why they showed up the day after she was attacked, the things they shouldn’t know, but did. And as her mind recalled the articles she’d combed through, just that morning, she realized something that made her jaw clench with anger.

  “You haven’t been here a few months, you’ve been here almost a year. A year and you never bothered to find me. But you found my uncle, and — let me out — now!”

  “Alice, wait.” Lionel grabbed her arm, but she jerked it free.

  “Don’t! Just don’t. I thought you’d come to me because you wanted to pick up our friendship, but you’re just keeping an eye on me for Uncle Logan.”

  “No, well, yes, but that’s—”

  Marco cut it. “What Lionel’s trying to say is that we wanted to find you before now, but we couldn’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because we promised your uncle we wouldn’t,” Marco said.

  “And now he’s going to kill us.” Lionel drained his whiskey.

  “He told you to stay away from me?”

  Marco nodded.

  The low flame of anger in her belly burst to life. “Let me out.”

  “Look, we’re sorry,” Lionel said.

  “Marco move!”

  “What are you going to do?” Marco asked.

  “I’m going to find my uncle and give him a piece of my mind.” She shoved Marco’s side, but he didn’t move.

  “Maybe you should calm down first.”

  “Get. Out. Now.”

  Alice held Marco’s gaze without flinching. She’d have slammed him into the table if that wouldn’t have gotten them all into trouble.

  Finally, he moved.

  “We’re coming with you,” he said, putting his coat on.

  “No.”

  “Yes, or you don’t go at all,” Lionel said.

  She stared at them, seeing that they were as determined as she was.

  “Fine.”

  Her legs were short, but she kept a fast pace as they sped through the red door, up the steps, and out onto the sidewalk.

  It had rained while they were inside, leaving the streets with a slippery wet sheen. A brisk wind toyed with the curls of her dark, bobbed hair and her heels beat out a harsh staccato as she marched along.

  “Should we get a taxi?” Lionel asked.

  “No, I need to walk.”

  It was no trouble for them to keep up with her, and Alice felt annoyed with herself that she was glad they were there. Even in the midst of her anger and hurt, she didn’t want the evening to end just yet.

  They were only a few blocks from the restaurant when Marco stopped, his head cocked like a dog that had caught a peculiar sound.

  “What is it?” Lionel asked.

  The street light behind Marco cast his face in a strange shadow. Though she was still angry, Alice felt as if someone had raked a cold finger down the length of her spine.

  Did Marco’s eyes go black for a moment? Like that fight with the Dorn brothers when we were kids...I thought I’d imagined that.

  Alice stepped toward him, but Lionel darted between them, blocking her view of Marco.

  “I thought...I heard something,” Marco said, his voice distant, as if he were deep in thought.

  “Where?”

  Marco pointed a little way up the street. “Down that alley.”

  Lionel’s face became tense. He glanced from Alice to where Marco had pointed.

  “I can take care of myself,” she said.

  “Stay here.” Lionel’s voice was firm.

  “No. You saw what I did to those men last night.”

  “And you’ve got the bruises to prove it.”

  “I’m still standing.”

  Lionel swore under his breath and took a domino mask out of his coat pocket. “Fine. But if I tell you to run, you damn well better run.”

  Alice nodded and slipped out of her heels, a small shiver going up her legs at the contact with the cold wet cement. As she followed them to the alley, she realized her knee-length skirt wouldn’t allow her to kick.

  “Lionel, rip this for me.”

  He looked confused, until she pointed at her skirt. Despite the fact that they were about to enter a potentially dangerous situation, Lionel smirked at her.

  “I so rarely hear a woman say that to me.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Just a little above the knee.”

  He knelt and easily ripped the fabric. She expected him to stand up right away, but he paused.

  “You know who I am, don’t you? Not just an idea, but, you know.”

  Alice nodded.

  Lionel sighed and stood up. “Your uncle is really going to kill us.”

  They were still a few feet away from the alley when Alice heard the wet slapping sounds and muffled gasps of a fight. Her heart sped up and despite the cold, her body felt on fire. She shed her coat, dropping it next to the alley wall Lionel and Marco were pressed against.

  Marco closed his eyes, wrinkles appearing over his nose, as he concentrated.

  “What are you doing?” Alice whispered. “Are you nervous?”

  His eyes flew open and he stared at her.

  It was eerie, the familiarity of it. Another day flashed through her mind, another place where someone was in trouble, and Marco had seemed to know it.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Alice—”

  Moving easily around Lionel’s out-stretched hand, Alice ran into the alley.

  There were five men of various sizes, all fighting one person.

  Aunt Diana’s oval face shone with blood and sweat. Alice had seen her spar in class hundreds of times, but what she saw now made Alice realize that she had only glimpsed a pale imitation of what Aunt Diana could actually do. Her body moved so quickly, yet gracefully, as if she were dancing with her opponents, instead of inflicting bodily harm on them. Two collapsed against the dingy brick walls on either side of the alley. A third landed a brutal kick to Aunt Diana’s abdomen, while the fourth easily spun around her back and—

  “No!” Alice screamed, seeing the flash of a blade too late.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Aunt Diana’s blue eyes widened in shock, her body arching up as the blade w
as thrust into her back. The man’s arm came around Aunt Diana’s neck and held her in place as he stabbed her once again, in the chest this time. Even in the low light, Alice could see the dark red pour out over her aunt’s white blouse, just before she crumpled to the wet dirty cement.

  All this happened in a few breaths. But to Alice, it had taken a long while to unfold, her mind stunned into uselessness.

  She felt Lionel and Marco run past, the first sounds of their assault a distant thing.

  The nearest attacker, a man with a pock-marked face and greasy hair, turned his attention to her and sneered.

  “Hello, lovely.”

  The words shattered the haze on her mind and everything became alive. The feel of the grime under her feet, the sour smell of the man as he sauntered to her. The blood pumping to every muscle — and something Alice had never felt before — pure, white-hot fury burning in her belly, bringing the fight before her into sharp detail.

  He dove for her and she grabbed his arm, easily dislocating it at the elbow, then driving her knee up into his nose, hot blood splattering on her knee. His other hand began clawing for her leg. Alice twisted his dislocated arm, and he screamed again. Driving her foot down onto his knee, she punched him in the face as he collapsed to the ground.

  Never, in all the years she’d trained, had she possessed such simple, clean focus. It was as if the fire that had kindled in her belly was giving her a kind of power. She could hear a few men begging, fear in their voices and, once again, the past tried to intrude, the memory of her father’s voice holding the same terror the last day she saw him.

  In the back of her mind, a truth simmered and tried to come out, but she didn’t have time for it now.

  She had to destroy these men, make them pay for what they’d done.

  At least, this time, I get the chance.

  That’s when the man with the knife came at her. He was taller than the others, with a barrel chest and meaty hands.

  At any other time, Alice would have had a moment of doubt, since she was small, compared to this man, and he could easily overpower her. But, she looked into his cold eyes, and then down at the large knife, still wet with Aunt Diana’s blood.

  His fat lips spread in a gleeful smile and the burning in her belly spread like fire on dry brush through her whole body. She knew for a certainty that he would not be smiling for long.