by BTKT
“No offense, but he doesn’t look like much of a guard dog.” “He’s not an ordinary dog.” “Of course he’s not.” “Sarcasm, Sasha?”
“It’s new. I made it myself.” He was quiet until he said, “How do you feel right now?” “Fine.” “Don’t lie. How do you feel?” She rested her head against the window again. “Sad and confused.” “Just like Jax.” “If you’re trying to make me feel guilty, I—” “What purpose would that serve? I’m only stating facts. He likes you, you don’t like him, he’s upset about it. End of story. Take the dog and go home.”
Before she could say another word, the call ended. She shoved the cell back in her pocket and walked away from the shop, away from the guard dog she didn’t need, didn’t want. Brett and Melanie didn’t know she was Anabo, so she’d be just fine. Miserable, but fine.
She’d barely gotten past the next store before an older man in a red cap and rainbow suspenders came up beside her, holding out the leash with the ugly dog attached. “Excuse me, but you left your dog.”
“He’s not my dog.”
The man bent and looked at the collar tag. “Sasha Annenkova. Is that you?”
“Yes, but that’s not my dog. Somebody’s playing a prank on me.”
The man cocked his head to study the homely thing. “He is kinda ugly, but he looks like a friendly sort. And it’s awfully cold. Maybe you could take him with you, just until you can give him back to your practical-joker friend.” He held out the leash.
She didn’t take it right away, and the dog whined, hanging his head, looking even more pitiful. Good grief. Huffing out an irritated breath, she took the leash from the man and glared at the dog. “Just until my friend comes to get you, understand?”
Perking up, the dog came to sit at her feet, resting his paws on the toes of her Uggs while he gazed up at her adoringly. He was missing half of one ear, and his right eye drooped. “There now, see? He likes you.” Rainbow Suspenders smiled like he’d just found the solution to world peace. “It’s got to be hard for this little guy, being so ugly, but he’s all heart. Who knows? Since he likes you so much, maybe you’ll warm up to him.” She was struck by his unintentional analogy. So maybe Jax was lonely and wanted to be her friend; maybe he was hot, smart, funny, and kind. Maybe he was sad because she didn’t want to be his friend. It didn’t change what he was, just like this little dog’s obvious affection didn’t change that he was a creature of Hell. All she wanted was for everything to go back to how it had been before, when she was normal and ordinary, like everyone else. How could she do that if she dated a dark angel and had a hellhound for a pet? Suddenly very tired, she said “Good night,” and turned away, the leash in her hand.
“Good night, Sasha,” Rainbow Suspenders cheerfully called after her.
She trudged down the street with Boo alongside, suddenly painfully hungry, and wondered if she should stop somewhere to get a sandwich before she went to the house. If all she got for dinner tonight was a plate of peas, she’d die of starvation.
Deciding to take her chances, mostly because she didn’t want to spend any more money today, she headed toward the Shrivers’, noticing when the people she passed took one look at Boo and grimaced.
The sun had set and twilight lay across Telluride, casting everything in gray and black. Away from the main drag, it was quiet and much darker. Not until Boo began growling low in his throat did she realize someone was following her. She didn’t hear anything, but she knew someone was there. When she sped up, the feeling of someone right behind her didn’t fade.
Boo suddenly lunged away from her to turn all the way around, baring his teeth and growling ferociously at whoever was behind her.
Oh, crap.
Jerking on his leash did no good. He was glued to the spot, body quivering, back legs bent as if he was set to pounce.
Fear made her look over her shoulder; horror made her heart race and her breath hitch.
Reilly O’Brien stood less than five feet away, a look of rage on her beautiful face. “I’m going to kill Brett Shriver, and you’re going to help me.”
---
Standing on the sidewalk outside of St. Patrick’s Cathedral in New York, Jax watched people come out after mass. He tried to see inside, just as he’d done a thousand times before at a thousand different churches, but the small glimpses he caught were as satisfying as a drop of water to a guy in the desert. Just enough to frustrate him.
He wished he could go inside, kneel at one of the pews, and ask God for help. He’d be able to think and come up with an idea about how to win Sasha, even though he’d maybe screwed it up beyond hope.
He’d just managed a good look at a row of candles close to the doors when Phoenix appeared next to him. “We have a situation.”
“I don’t give a damn.” “It’s Sasha.” The church forgotten, he jerked his head around to look at his brother. “Tell me.” “M brought a new Purg to the mountain a few hours ago, that red-headed chick from town, the hot one. The Shriver kid shoved her off Devil’s Ridge, and she’s hard-core pissed at God for not protecting her. Reilly hadn’t been there an hour before she escaped.”
For once, Jax didn’t go off about the Purgatories. “What’s this got to do with Sasha?”
“She’s with Reilly, right now.” “Reilly abducted her?” Phoenix nodded. “Almost thirty minutes ago. Boo gave chase, making his tag go so haywire, it set off the alarm. Ty lost the signal when Boo made it to Last Dollar Road, so he popped over to see what was going on. Reilly has Sasha in the woods outside the old Taylor house, where the kids go to party. It’s Saturday, so a lot will be there tonight. We think Reilly’s waiting for Brett to show up.”
“Why did she take Sasha?”
“That’s the freaky part, Jax. We don’t know. Key told me to come after you, because of the rule that we all go, or no one goes, but also so you can make sure Sasha’s okay.”
Jax turned away from the church. “Let’s go.”
“Do you know what it’s like to try to live up to perfect parents? They’re both doctors, working in third-world countries to save all the poor people. They left me with my grandparents so they could be saints, but what does that say about them, that they left me here with a couple of old people who never know where I am or what’s going on?”
Sasha couldn’t think of anything to say to that. Her mother had ditched her for what she said was a higher purpose, but it didn’t feel good. It didn’t make it okay. Especially now, considering all the weird stuff that was happening to her. Tonight was the icing on the cake. She still wasn’t exactly sure how she had gotten here, in this little snowy clearing behind what appeared in the half-light of the overcast sky to be a small cabin. One minute she was wondering if she was hallucinating Reilly O’Brien, and the next, Reilly had her hand while they flew over the treetops so fast she couldn’t breathe. She heard Boo barking his head off below them, until his barks became more distant, then stopped altogether.
She kept trying to get her hand loose from Reilly’s, but she couldn’t. It was as if they were fused together.
“Give up!” Reilly said. “I’m not letting go until after Brett shows up and you tell him I’m the one who’s going to kill him.” “Why won’t he know it’s you?” Reilly shot her an impatient look. “He can’t see me!” “I can see you.”
“Of course you can, because you’re an angel, but Brett’s only human, so he can’t.”
“I’m not an angel.”
“You’re glowing, and every angel I’ve seen since I died glows like that.” She frowned. “Until the dark angel came. He didn’t glow, but he was super-good-looking. Strange, right? He said I’m too angry at God to go to Heaven. He took me to this huge, spooky castle and told me I’d have to stay there and work through things before I can go to Heaven.” She smiled. “But I escaped and saw you, and you’re going to be there when I pay back Brett for what he did.”
Sasha suspected, but now she knew for sure, Brett really was a murderer. Justice needed
to happen, except if Reilly killed him, Sasha would get the blame. Who’d believe a ghost had done it?
But all her attempts to talk Reilly out of killing Brett were ignored. Instead, Reilly talked and talked, venting her anger and sorrow.
Would Sasha ever get to go home? Would life ever go back to normal? Her whole life was unraveling. Everything had changed within the space of two days, and it had all started when she went to that stupid Ravens meeting, which she did because Mom had given up trying to find out who had killed Dad. Then she left her with Tim Shriver, and now this. Yeah, she knew all about being abandoned. But she didn’t say so to Reilly. Even if she wanted to, she’d never get a word in edgewise.
“I’m dead, and everything I looked forward to will never happen.” She shook with fury. “I never even had sex! I didn’t have a boyfriend because it took too much time away from school, and volunteering to save the whole freakin’ world, and being an example to everybody. My mom was always telling me that, to be an example. I was an idiot! I should have gotten a tattoo, pierced my nose, and slept with that way-hot guy who works the lift at Revelation Bowl. I wasted all my chances, and now I’m dead. Brett shoved me off that cliff, and I want revenge.”
“He’s a lost soul, Reilly. Do you know about the lost souls, about Eryx?”
“The death angel told me, and that only makes me more determined to off the bastard. He won’t be sucking anyone else into that stupid club, and he won’t be around to kill again.”
“He’ll be taken away soon. Anything you do to him will only interfere.”
The girl’s face morphed into an expression of tremendous pain. “I never knew what evil looked like, until today. I was so scared, and prayed for God to help me.” She choked on a sob. “But he didn’t! He let Brett Shriver kill me, and I can’t forgive him for it.”
“Look, Reilly, I understand how angry you are, but if you kill Brett, I’m going to prison. That’s not fair. I hate the guy, but I wouldn’t kill him. And what will it change if you do? You’re still going to be dead. Please, let me go and—”
“Shh! A car’s coming up the road.”
Panicking, Sasha fought hard to get away from Reilly, but it was no use. The girl jerked her arm so hard, her shoulder wrenched and she cried out in pain.
“Shut up! They can’t hear me, but they can hear you. I have to be able to surprise them.”
When Sasha heard voices and car doors, she shouted, “Brett!” Reilly clapped a hand over her mouth, but it was too late. “Sasha, is that you? What are you doing up here? Who told you about the ghost house?” Ghost house? That might be funny someday. Right now, she was terrified he would come to the back of the cabin, looking for her. Wrestling with Reilly, she finally got her mouth free and yelled, “I met a guy on the slopes, and he said you’d be here. I came to tell you about Reilly O’Brien.”
Instantly, Reilly stopped trying to cover her mouth. “What are you doing? He’ll kill you, too!”
“Just wait,” she whispered. “What about Reilly?” Brett called out. “Did you hear? Reilly didn’t die. Her neck’s broken, but she’s going to live. I went to see her in the hospital.” All was quiet until Reilly said, “He’ll never buy it. The news is all over town.”
Sasha didn’t respond. She was hoping Brett would be worried enough to head back into town and find out for sure.
Then she heard footsteps and knew it hadn’t worked. “Where are you, Sasha?” Reilly was dragging her backward, into the forest, when giant shadows appeared with them in the small clearing behind the cabin, two of them moving toward her so fast that she didn’t have time to scream. One of the shadows grabbed her wrist, the other grabbed Reilly’s, and immediately, her hand was released. Then she was enveloped within something that smelled of leather and spiced cider, and everything went dark.
Unable to think of a place to take her where they could talk about what happened without interruption and eavesdroppers, Jax decided to take her to his room at the Mephisto house. When they arrived, he released her and stepped back, watching while she blinked in the light and looked around her. “Where are we?”
“In my room. I’ll take you home in a while, but I thought you might want to know what’s up with Reilly, and we can talk here without anyone overhearing.”
“How did we get here, Jax?”
“I can transport myself and anything I can carry anywhere in the world in just a few seconds. It’s kind of necessary for what I do.”
She looked at him as if she expected him to sprout wings and fly. “You are one spooky dude, Ajax DeKyanos. What else can you do?”
“I can hear things ordinary people can’t; my sense of smell is almost as good as a dog’s; I can see in the dark; and I sometimes have premonitions. I’m also pretty good at basketball.”
Her attention returned to her surroundings. “So this is where you live. Our whole apartment in Oakland would fit in this room.”
He looked with her, seeing things for the first time in decades. He lived here—day in, day out—so he scarcely noticed the paintings in gold-leaf frames; the twelve-foot ceilings; the massive furniture, blood-red silk against dove-gray walls; his gigantic desk; the black marble fireplace; or the things he kept in his bookshelves, besides the books.
Sasha walked away from him, circling the room, stopping to stare at the paintings, craning her neck to see the upper bookcases. She asked about a few things, like his dueling pistols and his British helmet from Waterloo. She knew of the artist who had painted him and his brothers in the gardens of their house in Yorkshire in 1803. What she didn’t know was that the artist had become a Lumina. His paintings were all over the house.
She was still studying the portrait when she said, “I don’t want to know how you found me. Don’t tell me where Reilly went, and I’ll die happy if I never have to know how she intended to kill Brett, because I’m pretty sure I was crucial to the plan.” Turning, she met his eyes. “All I want to know is why she came after me. Is it because Brett’s my cousin?” He shook his head. “Yeah, I was afraid of that. It’s because I’m Anabo, isn’t it?” Now was probably not the best time to tell her it was because she was changing to be like him, which enabled her to see ghosts, so he simply said, “Yes.”
Moving away from the north wall, she went to the windows on the west wall and cupped her hands to look outside. “I can see the shadow of the mountains. You must wake up every morning to an awesome view.”
The door opened, and Mathilda came bustling in, a large tray in her pudgy hands. “I was told you won’t be coming down for supper, Master Jax, so I’ve brought you a wee bite.” She set the tray on the table beneath the portrait and turned to look at Sasha. “How’d’ye do, missy? I’d be Mathilda, the housekeeper.”
Turning, Sasha smiled. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Sasha.” “Well, of course you are. Are you hungry?” “Yes, ma’am.” “Then have a nibble, and don’t let Master Jax talk yer ear off.” She turned toward the door. “If you need something, just give us a ring.”
When she was gone, Sasha looked at him with curious eyes. “Is there a reason you have an English housekeeper who dresses in clothes from the 1800s?”
He explained about the Purgatories before he said, “Mathilda’s twelve-year-old daughter was attacked by her employer. Trying to protect her child, Mathilda killed the man. He was an aristocrat, an earl, and she was a housekeeper; justice in England in those days was always skewed. Her daughter died, and she couldn’t get past her anger at God for letting that happen. She was executed before she could resolve it. She’s been with us since 1852.”
“How did Reilly escape?”
“We’re not sure yet, but she won’t try again. She’ll either agree to stay with us and work to get past her anger, or be sent to Purgatory to figure it out on her own.” He caught the scent of meat, and his stomach growled. He noticed she kept darting glances toward the table. “Would you like to eat something before I take you home?”
“I shouldn’t, but I’m not sure
there’ll be anything to eat at the Shrivers’.”
“Why shouldn’t you?”
She looked exasperated. “I don’t want to be here, Jax. I don’t want to talk to you, or know you. I just want my old, normal life back.”
Now was the time he should tell her it was too late: that she might be able to go back to normal someday, but not anytime soon. Not as long as she looked at him with that paradoxical expression of desire and loathing. Maybe she didn’t want to talk to him, but he’d bet anything she wanted to kiss him.
He ended up saying nothing at all, but walked to the table and held out a chair for her. When she was seated, he took the chair opposite and prepared to eat without talking. Maybe it would help if he didn’t look at her. He focused on his plate, which was filled with pot roast, potatoes, roasted butternut squash, and fresh green beans, but he couldn’t avoid looking at her. She was gorgeous, her long blond hair pulled back into a braid, some of it escaping to tease her jaw. Her nose was pinked by the outdoors, and her lips were slightly chapped.
“You’re staring.” “So are you.” They both dropped their gazes, and he ate a little before he couldn’t stand it and looked up again, catching her doing the same. So it went, and her demand for no talking went south when she said, “My favorite dessert is chocolate mousse.”
“Mine, too.” “You’re just saying that.” “Mathilda will back me up. My favorite color is red.” “Mine, too.” “Now you’re teasing me.” “No. If you looked in my closet, you’d see how much I like
red.” She reached for one of the apple dumplings and took a bite. Sasha didn’t eat as much as he did, but she ate a lot for a girl. He wondered if she was stronger. Did she think about things she’d never thought about before? He hoped not. That she was changing without knowing it bothered him, but the idea that she’d be dogged by dark thoughts and negative emotions nearly broke his heart.
