Angelbound (17 page)

The stadium lets out a collective gasp. Adair’s eyes, once mismatched, now both glow bright blue. Angel eyes.

“Lady Adair, you are awakened and Angelbound,” says Verus. “Our initiation is complete. When the current Scala dies, you will gain your full powers from him. We bow to you, our Scala Heir.”

The angels bend at the waist, the demons howl and screech. Armageddon leans back in his black stone throne, eyes gleaming red and missing nothing. The whole scene seems way over-the-top and sketchy to me. But what do I know? I’m used to killing things in the Arena, not watching crap like this.

Lincoln offers his arm to Adair, she wraps her fingers around his bicep.
Of course.
Together, they process off the stadium floor.

Suddenly, I’m totally regretting my decision to stand by an exit archway. They’re heading straight for me. My inner rage monster turns positively frantic.

As the Prince and Scala Heir step nearer, Adair eyes me from head to toe. “What do they call these lesser demons again? Partials? Semis?”

Fury twists my stomach.
We’re called quasis.

Lincoln gazes in my direction. His face is stone. “I’m not sure.”

Adair sighs. “Whatever they’re called, I’m glad they saw ‘real warriors’ in action today.” She grips Lincoln’s bicep tighter.

More fury flows through me. I set my feet apart, ready to pounce. My tail arcs over my shoulder. Lincoln watches the movement, the ghost of a smile curling his full lips in a way that says ‘how cute; the little demon wants to fight.’ My blood pressure skyrockets.

The Prince steps past me through the archway. “Yes, I’m sure it was quite an education for the poor creatures.”

That does it.

Mindless rage blasts through my veins. My eyes positively beam with red light. I rush forward, ready to tackle them both behind the kneecaps.

Instead, it’s Walker who pounces on me, knocking me straight into a portal. We tumble through space, coming to a landing in the empty parking lot outside my school.

“Walker? What in blazes are you doing?” I ball my hands into fists. My eyes burn bright red.

“You’re asking
me
?” Walker shakes his head in disbelief. “You were about to flatten the thrax High Prince. A hundred of his best warriors were standing nearby. Even
you
can’t fight that, Myla.”

I pace the parking lot. The movement helps the anger seep from my body. My eyes cool a bit. “Okay, you’re right.” I pause and take three deep breaths. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Walker rubs his sideburns. “That was some look on your
face, Myla. I’ve never seen your eyes turn that red.”

“I guess I lost my temper big time.” I shift my weight from foot to foot. This incident has gone from rage-inducing to totally embarrassing.

“I understand. Ghouls are the same way. We’re quiet enough and then–KABOOM–we lose our cool.”

Maybe that’s a genetic trait I got from my father. Barf. A heavy sadness seeps into my bones. I slouch and hug my elbows.

Walker tilts his head to one side. “Is there something wrong, Myla?”

I meet his gaze, seeing his black button eyes fill with concern. I start blabbing everything. “I’ve been getting these dreamscapes about Mom’s past from the angel Verus.”

Walker nods. “Your mother told me.”

“Well, I think my dad may be a ghoul.”

“Have you asked your mother about this?”

“Not yet.” I slump a bit lower. “Maybe I don’t want the answer to that question so much anymore.”

“I understand.” Walker rubs his sideburns thoughtfully. “Perhaps a change of subject is in order. I’ve learned the Scala will perform an iconigration soon.”

“Really?! Will you sneak me in?” Iconigrations are when the Scala transfers souls in a huge group. So cool.

“Of course.” A wisp of a grin rounds his mouth. “And where would you like to go now?” He opens a portal.

I soak in Walker’s warm smile. A knot of emotion forms in my throat. “Thanks
again, Walker. For everything.”

“No need for thanks.” Walker sets his hand on my cheek, his touch is warm and grounding. “You’re very important to me, Myla.” He glances at the black portal. “Now where to?”

I check my watch. “Well, school ended an hour ago. Can we go to the Ryder library?”

“Absolutely.” Walker takes my hand in his. Together, we step into the portal. For once, I actually don’t feel ill as we tumble through space. We step out right by the mansion’s front door.

I give Walker’s hand a little squeeze. “See you at the iconigration.”

Walker nods. “Until then.” He steps into the dark portal and disappears.

I take a deep breath, walk up to the front door of the Ryder mansion and knock. No answer.

I jiggle the handle. It’s unlocked. I turn the knob and step inside.

“Cissy? Zeke?” I nervously bite my lower lip. I’m totally late after that fiasco at the Arena with Adair. If after all that, I can’t go to the library today, I will definitely need to kill something. Hopefully, not Zeke.

Soft giggles sound from behind the corner to the West Wing.

“Zekie, don’t!” It’s Cissy.

Oh, they’re here alright. Ick.

I stand in the center of the reception hall. “Cissy, I’m going over to the library. Is that okay?”

More giggles.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’” I walk down the hallway to the East Wing and hike up the stairs. I stop at the second floor.

This is the exact spot I saw in my dreamscape. This is where Mom met up
with her family–my family–before she was sworn in as Senator. I stare at the closed door, knots of nervous energy forming down my spine.

Here goes.

I slowly set my fingertips on the knob and twist. It’s open. I step past the threshold and flip on the lights. Inside is an ornate wooden conference room with mahogany tables and chairs. Huge paintings of the Oligarchy hang from the walls.

I frown. None of this looks like it did in my dreamscape.

Another door stands ajar at the back of the room. I walk through it and enter a long, open space dripping in cobwebs. My breath catches. This is the old senate offices, exactly the way they were before the war. My heart starts beating like crazy.

“Hey, Myla.”

I jump a bit and gasp. “Oh, Cissy. I didn’t see you there.”

“Didn’t you hear me calling you on the way over?”

I run my finger along a dusty desktop. “I guess I was a little distracted.” I peep at the empty space behind her. “Where’s Zeke?”

Cissy shrugs. “I told him I’d meet up with him later.” She eyes my fighting suit. “Another Arena match today?”

“Of sorts.”

“You’re going once or twice a month now.” She shakes her head from side to side. “I’m worried about you.”

I open my mouth, ready to tell her everything, then close it just as quickly. “I’m fine, Cissy.”

“You’re always saying that lately.” She steps around the dim space. “What are you doing in here? This is nasty old office space they used before the war. It’s been boarded up for ages.”

“Mom was a Senator in the old Republic. Her team worked in this office.”

Cissy’s tawny eyes open wide. “Wow.” She sets her hand on her rib cage. “How long have you known that?”

“Since I first visited the library. I found a book about it.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know. It’s private stuff.” Guilt worms its way around my belly.
Am I so proud that I can’t tell my best friend I’m part-ghoul?

“You never used to feel that way.” She steps to my side and gently sets her hand on my shoulder. “We’ve gabbed about your Mom’s pre-war ‘mystery history’ since we were kids. Remember that time we made sand castles at Canus Beach? You pretended your Mom fought demons in a tall tower. I said your father was the dragon King.”

My voice cracks when I speak. “Yeah, I remember.” I slowly lower myself into a rickety office chair, setting off a poof of cobwebs and dust. I cover my face with my hands.

Cissy kneels beside me. “Come on, Myla. There’s something bothering you and it’s more than your Mom being a Senator. You can tell me.”

I hug my elbows. “Here’s the thing. The Lewises used to be a huge family. Everyone was murdered in Armageddon’s War because Mom was a Senator. That’s why she’s so overprotective of me. She lost everyone she loved.” I stare at
the floor. “I never even got to meet them.”

Cissy pats my hand. “I’m so sorry.”

“For so long I wanted to know the truth. Now I want to forget everything I’ve learned.” A warm tear rolls down the bridge of my nose.

“I understand, sweetie.”

I slump into the old office chair and watch dust motes float through the beam of light from the opened door. Somewhere an old-fashioned clock ticks away. I stare into the shadows, imagining ghostly Lewis eyes peeping at me in fear. My skin puckers into gooseflesh. Cissy gently rests her hand on my arm.

“Hey, I might have something to cheer you up.” She slides an envelope out of her pocket. “I totally shouldn’t do this.”

I look at her out of my right eye. “Do what?”

“Everyone’s freaking out in the East Wing. The thrax reserved the mansion for some event to celebrate autumn, but the ghoul minister’s kicking them out. No one wants to tell a bunch of demon fighters that they can’t use the house.” She taps the sealed envelope against her palm and looks at me expectantly. “I’m supposed to give this to one of the other Furor fighters to deliver.”

Thrax? Message? I smell payback.

I shoot Cissy my most innocent grin. “You’re right. It would totally cheer me up to go on a little errand.”

“That’s my Myla.” Cissy starts to hand me the letter, and then she pulls it back. “Don’t be surprised if they’re a little cranky about the change.”

“Oh, I can handle it.” I scoop the envelope from her hands. Zipping down my
fighting suit, I set the letter against my collarbone, then zip it up again. “I’m on it.”

“One more thing. The thrax are really into their traditions. To get into their compound, you have to wear a dress and ride a horse.” Her face lands somewhere between a wince and a smile. “This could be a nice change of pace for you. Getting dressed up and all.”

I open my mouth to spill the truth: I’m not dress-girl or horse-lady. Sure, I love sneaking into the Ryder stables to kill Doxy demons, but I have no idea how to touch a horse, let alone ride it. But then I shut my yap. Screw it. I’d say just about anything for this payback fiesta. “That sounds like such a nice idea, Cissy.”

“And won’t tell anyone I let you do this, okay?”

“Never.”

“Good.” She rocks back on her heels, setting her golden ringlets swinging. “There are some thrax horses in the Ryder stables. I guess they’re enchanted or something. I hear they basically ride themselves, if you know what I mean.”

Some little part of me feels guilty for misleading Cissy here when she’s trying to be nice, but my inner demon has that little part of me in a sleeper hold. “Sounds like a plan.”

Cissy and I leave the mansion, hike past the hedgerow maze, and head toward a long and thin building on the outer grounds: the Ryder stables. A great wooden door marks the entrance; Cissy hauls it open. Inside, there’s a long central aisle with about a dozen stalls on either side.

I walk up the main aisle, peeking in the different stalls. Dry hay crunches beneath my feet. “I’ve always wondered. Why do the Ryders have stables
anyway? Zeke never talks about riding and his parents only seem to love tennis.”

“It’s for guests. Thrax aren’t the only ones who like to travel by horse. Some ghouls and demons do it too. Normally, there are only a few horses in residence, but with the thrax in town, the stables are almost always full these days.”

I look at the different horses, reading the names printed above the stalls. “Moon Shadow. Firelight. Eugene.”

“That last one is a demon horse. Don’t go near it.”

My brows arch with admiration. “You’re a fountain of diplomatic information, Miss Frederickson.”

Cissy grins. “Zeke’s parents have taught me all sorts of stuff. It’s really interesting.”

A horse with a bluish-gray coat steps out of a nearby stall. She prances up to me and whinnies.

I smile. I’d know this horse anywhere. She’s been a target of the Doxy demons for months. They love to snarl her mane and tail; I love to play her personal demon exterminator. I run my fingers through the horse’s silky black mane. “What’s your name, lovely?”

Cissy steps up to the now-empty stall. “She’s a thrax horse. Her name’s Nightshade.” Cissy peeps inside. “I wonder how she got out of her stall.”

I shrug. “You said the horses were enchanted. Maybe they can do magic.”

Nightshade couches onto the stable floor. Her big black eyes stare at me in a way that says ‘climb on.’

My body buzzes with excitement. I quickly slip onto into Nightshade; her back
feels warm and steady below me as she rises to her feet. The next moment, Nightshade begins walking toward the stable doors. A sense of calm and ease washes over me. I feel as if I’ve ridden on her all my life. Grinning, I loop my fingers through her mane and whisper in a low voice. “Take me to the thrax.” She rears on her hind legs.

Cissy frowns. “Not yet, Myla. You’re supposed to wear a gown!”

Nightshade gallops toward the stable exit. I look over my shoulder and wave. “I’ll figure something out!”

I’m pretty sure Cissy screams something at me, but I can’t hear her. Okay, maybe I could hear her if I tried, but I’m riding a freaking horse! Nightshade’s muscles shift beneath me in drum-roll rhythm. The wind whirls across my face, roars in my ears and dances through my long auburn hair. It’s nothing less than glorious.

Nightshade and I pound over the rolling hills behind the Ryder mansion. Exhilaration bubbles through my bloodstream. We thrum across vast fields of high grass. After a short ride, her pace starts to slow.

A trio of purple tents appears on the horizon. They’re all large and held in place by sturdy poles, more like circus tents than camping stuff. A line of tall pine trees looms to their right. Nightshade slows to a halt.

“Are we here, Night?”

The horse nickers.

I release my fingers from her mane, slide down the horse’s barrel and pick my way toward the nearest tent. Everything looks deserted. A girl in a yellow gown
steps out from the line of trees. She’s tall and willowy with long blonde hair.