Dance of Ashes and Smoke (Age of Monsters Book 1)

by Harley Gordon

  “What happened?”

  I sank into one of our rickety dining room chairs with a sigh while Olivia headed to shower. “On the way back, we had a little disagreement with a wolf pack and a jersey devil. They thought it was a good idea to eat a child and some guy.”

  “Are you okay?” My little brother’s eyes pinched with worry.

  “Sure. They don’t think it was a good idea anymore.”

  His lips jerked up in a reluctant smile. “I suppose that’s good to know.”

  I neglected to mention I’d told Jackson our names, not wanting to freak Al out. In a city crowded with people forced here from the surrounding areas, it was unlikely I’d run into him again.

  “Hopefully they’ll think the wolves and devil killed each other.”

  I snorted and accepted the cup of instant coffee he handed me, sighing over the artificial smell rising from the cup. “I doubt it. Sword and arrow wounds look a lot different than bite marks.”

  He sat down next to me, head in hands, his own coffee abandoned on the table. “We’re crazy for continuing this, aren’t we?”

  I shrugged. “Probably, but what other option is there? Accept this is our life? I can’t do that.” Though I probably should have tried harder to keep Al out of it.

  He’d followed me to the second Uprising meeting, and I hadn’t had the heart or strength to send him away. I’d told myself it was so he could learn to protect himself. I wasn’t so sure it was the real reason anymore.

  “Me neither, but I also don’t want anyone else dead.” Al’s eyes were sad. His face no longer had the baby round cheeks from before. Now they were harsh and hard. My seventeen-year-old brother wasn’t a kid anymore.

  Neither was I.

  I leaned back in the chair until it perched on only the back legs. “I know.”

  “You know what I miss? Most? More than anything else?”

  “Booze?”

  He laughed, his quicksilver eyes lightened. “Racing you on our motorcycles. I miss high speeds and rushing winds.”

  I almost sobbed and blubbered across the table at the longing in me. “I can’t even think about it. All the long hours and work we did and now they’re rotting under the garage.”

  He cleared his throat and stood. “You should clean up. They’ll be here soon. I’ll handle the food.”

  “Thanks.”

  I groaned as I forced myself to my feet, shuffling down the hall to my bedroom after I kissed Alcott on the cheek. My room looked more like a jail cell than a college girl’s space. Not that I’d gotten the chance to begin college. Or graduate. The monsters came my senior year, mere months before we were supposed to walk across the stage. Alcott should have been preparing for graduation instead of hunting monsters.

  My posters and towering piles of music and books and pillows were rotting back in our real home. We hadn’t been given much time to pack our things before they herded us here and shoved us into the homes of the dead.

  I sank into my lone pillow, wanting to wash off the sweat and blood, but exhaustion plucked at me with strong fingers. With a pout, I rose and crossed the hall to the bathroom, stripped off the damp and ripped pieces left of my dress, the shimmery cream painted with streaks of crimson.

  I checked out the damage in the mirror, wincing at the mess I was, no idea how to fix any of it with jacked hands. Mud and leaves caked my snarled hair.

  I no longer recognized myself. Who was this battle-worn warrior? Where was the carefree and happy girl who skipped and danced through her perfect life? I was only nineteen. This shouldn’t have been my life.

  The remaining battle high melted away, leaving me shivering and trying not to cry as I crouched naked on the white tiles.

  When would it get easier? When would I stop caring about the blood staining my hands, seeping into my soul?

  I emerged from my room, clean and armored up in my leather jacket and boots, calm after my mini breakdown. Our apartment smelled like our real home used to when our parents were still alive and dad would make breakfast on the weekends. Piles of pancakes and huge bowls of scrambled eggs covered our table.

  “Why did you make so much?”

  Alcott shrugged. “Everyone’s always hungry after working or patrolling all night. And it keeps up appearances. We’re just a bunch of humans desperate to hold onto the slightest bit of humanity. And it looks harmless, so they shouldn’t ban it.”

  “They might decide to ban human gatherings just for fun.”

  “Then we’ll figure another way. Maybe message boards through World of Warcraft.”

  I laughed and grabbed plates from the cabinets. “Sounds good.”

  “Besides, it’s nice having the place full of people despite the circumstances.”

  I coughed against the hitch in my chest as I set the plates on the table. “Yeah.”

  Olivia’s door banged open, and she entered the kitchen with a flourish. “Feed me now or lose me forever!”

  We grinned at her and waved at the creaking table covered in food. She laughed and clapped in delight and filled a plate. The rest of our quadrant’s cell trickled in, including the guy from earlier. Jackson.

  My brows drew together in confusion and annoyance. “What are you doing here?”

  He snagged a pancake and took a bite before answering. “I was invited.”

  “By whom?”

  “By me.” The local vet, Dr. Singh came to stand beside Jackson. “He’s my new vet tech and is wonderful with animals. He wants to help with the Uprising. Don’t worry, he’s been vetted.”

  Pun intended. I grunted and faked a smile for the vet’s benefit, turning away to get the coffee served, not liking or trusting the turn of events. What good was he to the Uprising? We needed soldiers, not dudes carrying herbs as a weapon. I ignored the strange lack of pain in my hands. Good healer or not, he shouldn’t be on the front lines needing to be rescued.

  Everyone milled about, munched on the food, sipped coffee, and chatted about inane things, letting the tensions of the past hours dealing with walking nightmares melt away.

  The leader of our cell, Marie, cleared her throat and stood in front of our fireplace. The chatter died down and everyone gave her their attention as she gave a rousing speech I barely heard, memories of blood and fangs and purple wings tormenting me.

  Marie finished up her speech and sat. “Now, give me your reports.”

  Everyone shook their heads, claiming quiet nights and no new intel. I sighed and nudged Olivia, letting her deal with the explanations.

  Olivia raised her hand. “We took out six werewolves and a Jersey Devil over at Fairmount Park.”

  A heavy disbelieving silence fell across the room, no one hardly breathed.

  Marie’s eyes widened. “Could you give us a little fuller account?”

  Olivia did. With relish, making us sound way more awesome than we were—especially against the Jersey Devil. We were the first to take on so many at once. Mostly the only missions we’d had up to now had been sabotage and the occasional monster assassination.

  Marie blew out a breath. “There will be repercussions for this. I’m not damning you for what you did. You did exactly what you should have, but the Nightmare Council will not be pleased. I’ll let the leaders of the other cells know and we should back off patrols and any sabotage for now until we see how things fall. We’ll send out messages. Unless you hear from me, we’ll still have our usual meeting so it doesn’t seem suspicious. Now, I’m sure everyone’s exhausted, so head home when you’re ready. Keep your heads down.”

  She grasped my arm and squeezed, something like respect and pride shining in her eyes. I nodded in return.

  Everyone but Olivia and Jackson left saying little, and we cleaned up the mess left in the wake of the Uprising members. With me useless because of my hands stiff and clumsy from bandages, Jackson took advantage of Olivia and Alcott’s bustling to lead me a little away from them.

  “How are your hands?”

  I looked down a
t them. “They barely hurt. I’m not sure how I’m going to hide them though.”

  He reached in his pocket and handed me a bag of herbs. “I brought you extra in case I don’t see you. If you run out come by the clinic for more. Just add a little water until it turns into a paste, slather it on, and wrap it up.”

  I pinched the edge of the bag with my thumb and forefinger, letting it dangle awkwardly. I was a dancer; I was supposed to be graceful. This sucked ass. “Thanks.”

  “Do you have pain meds?”

  I shook my head. “No, but I’m fine. I don’t need them.”

  He reached into his other pocket and gave me a bottle of pills. “Here. Only if the pain’s really bad and only if you’re about to go to sleep in a safe place.”

  “Okay.” I frowned. “Why didn’t you say anything before—about being one of us?”

  “I didn’t know if you two were in my cell and frankly things were crazy so it wasn’t high on my list of priorities.”

  “You said you weren’t much of a fighter.” I raised a disbelieving brow.

  A pretend humble smile curled his lips as he leaned against the wall. “I’m not. But as you’ve experienced, I’m helpful in other things.”

  I shrugged with my mouth. “Maybe.”

  He grinned, his eyes flashed. “Don’t worry. I’ll grow on you.”

  “Like a barnacle?”

  He laughed loud and long, melodically, his smile gorgeous. “Exactly.”

  Not liking my line of thoughts, I backed away. “Well, nice seeing you again and all, but I’ve got a bed calling my name.”

  He quirked a brow, humor shining from those forest eyes. “Of course.”

  Before I realized what he was doing, he darted in and planted a kiss on my cheek. I froze, unable to move or think.

  He bowed and disappeared through the door, leaving me standing with a gaping mouth.

  Olivia’s voice behind me made me jump. “If you don’t, I will.” She winked at my still open lips and disappeared into her room.

  The sky was a swirl of purples and oranges left behind by the setting sun, colors fading to black as Alcott, Olivia, and I headed for Love Park. The ground was dry, the dirty slush gone, but the cold air bit through my clothes, signaling more snow to come.

  We’d been summoned along with the rest of the quadrant and I tried to keep the dread steadily building inside me at bay.

  It was never good news when they brought us together like this.

  And Marie warned us there’d be repercussions for the dead monsters from the night before.

  Before the red Love sign, the Nightmare Council stood, faces impassive, but eyes glinting with expectation. The streets lamps cast a dull glow across the water in the fountain and the faces of the monsters, giving them sinister shadows streaked across their faces. I was unable to stop the shudder vibrating up and down my spine at the sight.

  I clenched my hands into fists, wincing as my scabs protested. Whatever Jackson had used, there’d been no infection. I was suspicious at the quick and almost miraculous overnight recovery, but refused to question or stress over it. I needed to be back to fighting shape.

  The entire quadrant gathered where the Christmas Village would be this time of year.

  Now we huddled together, gray and terrified, as we waited to find out what fresh new horror was in store for us. We found Marie and a few others from our cell in the crush, pretending to ourselves we were meeting up to enjoy the day as cheeks were kissed and hands were shaken.

  It was the little things we held onto to remind us we were still there, still human, still fighting.

  And we had to pretend we hadn’t just seen each other for an Uprising meeting.

  The vampire head of the Nightmare Council monster, Angus, stepped up to a human he’d forced into the shape of a podium and projected his voice for us to hear. “Welcome, friends. I am saddened at the business we have before us, but I see no other choice. We wish to live side by side in peace with you, but there are those in your midst who refuse that friendship. And because of those people, we can’t have true peace and harmony until they are rooted out like the cancerous cells they are and destroyed.” He waited with a creepy, pleasant smile for the muttering to die down before he continued. “We have been patient, hoping the sickness here would pass, but it became clear last night that waiting is no longer possible. Several of our treasured friends were despicably murdered for no reason we can see other than some disturbing psychopathy.”

  “Now, I’d like you to give a warm welcome to Tashia Inareen, a powerful and impressive sorceress who is here to help root out the resistance. Once she has, we can finally have peace.”

  Most of the crowd clapped with terrified enthusiasm, refusing to ignore or rebel against his wishes and desires.

  It was all my fault.

  The sorceress was achingly gorgeous, like Snow White and Cinderella had a baby. Golden tumbling curls, bright blue eyes, porcelain skin, rosy cheeks, red lips.

  The bitch.

  It was her. It was the woman who killed my parents. Olivia’s parents. And her damn familiar who helped her. A female monster of some sort who was as gorgeous as Tashia.

  The roar in my ears drowned out the next part of the vampire’s ridiculous speech. The hate inside of me twisted and snarled like a master demanding I bow to its will and kill them all right now.

  Liv and Al jerked and squeezed my arms, keeping me still, our other friends surrounded us, hiding me from sight. Vivid, green eyes swam into view and sounds returned with an audible snap. Jackson turned around and stationed himself in front of me while Liv and Alcott kept hold of my arms.

  Tashia walked to the podium, smirking at the trembling human podium. “Thank you for such a gracious welcome. I don’t want to get in the way of the important work you do here, so my investigations will be quick and mostly painless.” She cackled like witch from a B-rated movie. “So, please. Go about your lives as usual and if you are innocent, you have nothing to fear.”

  Her unspoken threat hung in the chilled air.

  The vampire clapped his hands. “Excellent. You are dismissed.”

  Olivia and Alcott led me away, and I mouthed thanks to Jackson over my shoulder.

  We made the long trek home to change for work, worry and silence choking us. As soon as the door closed behind us, we sprang into action, and gathered up every single piece of forbidden paraphernalia and piled it on the dining room table. Each weapon and book we were prohibited from having covered every inch of the table.

  “We have to hide everything. Let’s put them with the motorcycles and our go-bags.” Alcott and Olivia nodded at my words, but I didn’t give up my knife necklace. I refused to go out there without a way to protect myself or the rest of the town.

  I also hid a couple weapons under a loose floorboard in my room.

  My mind whirled with fantasies. Dark ones of stabbing the sorceress over and over, laughing as she bled out, painted with the same red as my parents. I wanted her dead. I needed her dead.

  I wouldn’t stop until she was dead.

  And it needed to be before she ferreted out any of the Uprising members.

  Because if someone got killed because of it, I’d never forgive myself.

  Marie canceled the next morning’s Uprising meeting, unwilling to chance us being seen together. We avoided each other, not wanting to give any evidence of anything other than our tedious lives. Liv and I went to our performance as usual, my wounds wrapped with a scarlet ribbon the same color as my dress.

  On our walk home through the fresh, snow-covered streets, we stopped at the coffee shop to warm up with the rare treat of real coffee. Avoiding the eyes of the monsters there filling up on their strange love of caffeine, we grabbed a spot on a love seat in the corner, keeping our backs to the wall.

  We couldn’t talk about anything real here—any stray word would kill us, but it was still nice to sit in the warm coziness of the corner and pretend for a moment we were two nineteen-year-old
girls there for a break between classes.

  “I think I need to practice that song more. I messed up a couple times tonight.”

  I took a sip of coffee, starting as it burned off a few taste buds. “I didn’t notice anything.”

  Liv preened. “I covered well of course, but it wasn’t Julliard quality.”

  Her reminder sent us into a depressed silence. Julliard accepted us both, surprising because we came from the same town, and they accept so few across the country.

  Our lives were supposed to be filled with music, culture, and exploring our favorite city. Then it had been snatched away just before our fingers reached it.

  Sometimes, the reminder made it hard to breathe.

  “I was actually thinking about a new song I’d like to add to our lineup.” I slipped my phone from the pocket of my jacket, scrolling through until I found the song and handed it to her.

  She stuck the earbuds in and clicked play, her eyes closing as she listened to my new favorite song by Skylar Grey. Was the talented musician dead? Or had her wealth kept her safe, hidden in a bunker?

  Music pumped from the buds and I pictured the choreography of the dance I wanted for the song. I already knew each step, each movement, each sweep of my arm.

  And it was a beautiful dance, even performed for monsters.

  Liv yanked out the buds and handed my phone back, eyes shining. “That’s beautiful and I definitely think I can play that. I’ll get with the drummer and we’ll work it out. Do you have a dance for it?”

  I bounced in my seat. “I do. My best one yet, I think.”

  She smiled. “Good. I’m bored of doing the same routines.”

  I took another hesitant sip of my coffee, finally able to drink it without injury. “Me too.”

  We were quiet for a few minutes as we searched for a safe topic of conversation. Unfortunately, she found one I wasn’t too interested in.

  “Have you seen that guy since the other night?”

  Not wanting to say his name here, I played it coy. “You mean the one who fancies himself some kind of doctor?”

  She giggled. “Yep.”