Blest (13 page)

“Shane!” Maria screamed, running to the body lying a few feet from Miles. “Shane!”

Shane didn’t move. Jim’s mind processed everything like an old machine, ticking out information like a typewriter. Shane wasn’t moving. Blood. There was so much blood.

Sydney propped Miles up against the flickering streetlight. She knelt next to him, looking at his leg. Miles had stopped screaming, but his body trembled, as if he was trying to keep all of the pain from bursting out to the surface. His ankle was bent at the wrong angle, swollen and twisted, but he didn’t even seem to feel it anymore. His eyes were fastened on Shane. The demons had crowded around him, but Jim could still see the body. Blood pooled out onto the cement, shining slick in the grainy streetlight. Shane’s eyes were open and blank, staring straight ahead.

Maria screamed hysterically. Gunner slung his arm around her shoulders and brought her close, his eyes resting steadily on Shane’s body. Ben had already called someone on the phone. Nora and Sydney were talking to Miles in whispers. Jim saw Claire hovering by the bench where Gunner had been sitting. She peered in Shane’s direction, but didn’t go any closer. Before he could even think about it, Jim bolted past the demons into a narrow alley between the skyscraper and a convenience store. Sure enough, Claire saw him escape, and followed.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, pulling her into his arms.

“Sorry,” she echoed dully, looking at him with her chestnut-brown eyes. “Sorry for what?”

“If I had just done the Drop like Shane had wanted, then this wouldn’t have happened. He challenged me first.”

Claire shook her head and clasped his wrists in her hands. “No, no. Then that could have been you, Jim. And I don’t think I would have survived that. This is . . .” She kissed him once, a peck that left him aching for more, and then disappeared out of the alley, back to the demons.

Jim turned around to watch her go—and stepped back in shock. Sydney had appeared at the end of the alley.

“Jim,” she said coldly. People were screaming behind her.

“Sydney, I—I don’t—”

“You need to end that.” Her voice trembled in rage. “
Now
.”

What could he say? That he couldn’t help it? That he wouldn’t end it, even if it meant he was kicked out of the Feather?

She walked closer to him and jabbed her thumb in the direction of the shouting. “Don’t you understand how dangerous that is? It’s forbidden for angels to love demons. If she gets really unlucky, the Tribunal will find out and banish her to Slag. If she’s lucky, the demons will kill her first.” She took a breath. “Especially now. They’re not going to let this go, and anyone who’s not with them is going to be against them. She won’t get a second chance if they find out.”

“They’ll . . .” Jim tried to understand, but the words weren’t getting through his head. And how was Slag worse than death?

“They. Will. Kill. Her.” Sydney didn’t blink as she repeated the words. “Mayor Morrisey has powerful connections. Other demons are going to hear about this, and they’re going to come to Pearlton to fill the vacuum. Shane was bad, but he’s far from the worst. End it. If not for your sake, then hers.” She walked out of the alley to join the Feather.

Jim stood alone for what seemed like a lifetime, trying to figure out solution, some way out. He just hadn’t known how dangerous it could be for Claire. The Tribunal. The demons. Did she know what she was risking, for his sake? How could she? He went rigid as he realized what he had to do.

He would rather have her hate him and be alive, than dead because she loved him.

In the eerie silence of her room, Claire still heard Maria screaming and crying, as if she could call Shane back from the dead. She still heard the paramedics who had arrived on the scene asking if there had been “any warning signs” for Shane’s “suicide.” She still heard Gunner promising everyone in the Scale that they would get the angels back for what they had done. As if revenge was the antidote to grief.

Claire sat numbly on her bed and stared into the mirror next to her dresser, pretending that the girl looking back at her was another Claire, a Claire without a demon’s crimson wings poking out of her back. And then she saw movement in the window by her bed. A flash of white wings and blond hair.

Jim rapped on the window. Almost immediately, she felt alive again, electric. It felt like Jim had read her thoughts—he’d come when she needed him the most. She fumbled to open the window. “Jim,” she whispered in relief, reaching for him.

He ducked under the mirror and slid by without touching her.

Claire tried not to feel hurt. She reminded herself that everyone had just been traumatized by the Drop. She wasn’t sure how she felt, or even if she felt anything, but she knew she would never, ever be able to erase the image of Shane’s mangled and bloody body, his eyes staring blankly out into space.

Jim shuffled. “Claire,” he said weakly. “We need to talk.”

Her heart jumped. “Okay. About what?’

“The Drop,” he choked. “It . . . it made me realize . . . how brutal and rash demons are.” He avoided her eyes, looking determinedly at his feet. “And . . .”

“And?” she pressed, feeling like she was teetering on the edge of some cliff.

“And we just can’t do this. Sure, you’re okay now. But look what happened to Gunner. You’re going to turn into one of them, I know it.”

Claire couldn’t speak. Her jaw clamped shut and she stood completely still.

“I was wrong about . . . I . . .” He mumbled something.

“Wrong about what?” Anger and hurt whirled through her like a hurricane, making her dizzy. “Jim. Look at me!” Her voice dissolved into a quiet, almost desperate plea. This couldn’t be happening.

Jim lifted his chin, his eyes meeting hers. “I don’t love you, Claire.”

Claire collapsed on the bed, clutching the frame, hoping she had misheard. “You’re lying.”

“No,” he said, his voice getting louder. “You’re just going to turn into Gunner and there’s nothing more disgusting than what happens to demons. Look at how Shane risked everybody’s lives, just to prove some stupid thing. And you’re going to do that, too.”

“How can you say that!” Claire cried, tears painfully pricking against her eyes, her stomach rolling.

“Because,” he said through his teeth. “Because that’s just how demons are.”

“Are you—”

“Claire,” he said. Hearing him say her name in such a cold, detached voice made her feel sick. “It’s over. In fact, it never should have happened in the first place.”

She turned on him, a cold anger fueling her, protecting her, keeping her from breaking down. “Get. Out,” she said. “Out! Get out of my room!” She lunged at him, shoving him through the window and slamming it behind him. It caught the tip of his left wing.

Jim took off into the distance. Claire stood there, watching silently as a few white feathers drifted to the floor.

• • •

Claire couldn’t sleep. She lay in bed, shivering and replaying the conversation with Jim in her head. Kleenexes lay everywhere on the floor, the empty box upside-down. Her eyes were swollen and red-rimmed from crying. When she wasn’t thinking about Jim, she was haunted by Shane’s blank-eyed stare after the Drop, the gurney wheeling away his dead body. He had been so passionate to help the demons get into Glisten again that it had killed him. But was that kind of passion so bad? He had cared about the Scale, in his own way, even if he had been horrible to everyone who wasn’t a demon. None of the demons had betrayed her like Jim had. Shouldn’t that mean something?

Outside, the sun was starting to climb over the trees, burning gold and orange across the lake. Even that made her shake, because it reminded her of the sunset she had seen on the water tower with Jim, and the sketch of the two of them floating above the lake which he’d given her. She riffled through her desk for the sketch, then methodically tore it into tiny confetti before throwing them in the trash. She opened the window, trying to breathe in the air to stay calm, and noticed that the wind was growing stronger. The trees on the shore swayed violently, leaves spinning through the water. Above, the dawn sky faded as dark clouds knitted into a frowning gray canopy at unnatural speed, casting all of Lakewood in sudden darkness. The wind gathered at the center of the water, swirling in circles. A tornado, she realized. There was a tornado forming
on the lake
.

From the clouds, a funnel of wind descended, reaching into the water like a spear. Claire watched in shock as the tornado shot across the lake—right for her house. She scrambled back from the window. “Gunner?” she called, though she wasn’t sure where he and the others were, or if they were even still here. She turned to run downstairs, shooting one last glance over her shoulder—and stopped in her tracks.

When it hit the dock on the shore, the tornado exploded into a thousand snakes of mist that dissipated into the sky. A man stepped out of the middle and started striding through her yard. He was dressed in a faded leather jacket and his thick, brown hair was wild and unkempt. As he made his way toward the house, the dark clouds broke behind him, revealing spiderweb strands of morning sunlight. He disappeared around the corner and there was no trace of the tornado behind him.

Claire rubbed at her sore eyes. Had she really just seen someone travel through a tornado? She ripped open her bedroom door. Her feet felt like stones, but she kept pushing herself forward. Something was going on, and she needed answers.

Downstairs in the kitchen, the demons were gathered around the man Claire had seen in the yard. He was imposingly tall, with murky, coal-black eyes and sharp features. By the way he turned his jaw as he looked at everyone, she could tell that he was somebody who was used to getting his way. His wings were a dark red, with streaks of black.

All the other demons were talking excitedly over one another. It took Claire a minute to figure out that they were trying to tell this new demon about what had happened to Shane. The man only seemed to be half-listening. When his eyes raked over her, it felt like an icicle shot through her. Before she knew what had happened, he had cut between Erik, Julia, and Ben to reach out for her.

“Claire Morgan,” he said in a deep voice. “I’ve been waiting to meet you for a long time.” He didn’t take his eyes from her. She slipped her hand into his and he practically crushed it in a handshake. “I’m Carlos,” he said, and finally released her hand.

Carlos.
Shane and Gunner had mentioned him before.

“I’ve been meaning to come to Pearlton for some time,” he said, looking around at the group. Everyone had gone quiet. Gunner seemed to be the most impressed. His face lit up every time Carlos said a word, like he had just met his personal hero. “But Shane’s death has expedited that process. This Scale needs a leader, and it’s more important now than ever. There’s a Portal to Glisten somewhere in this town.”

There was a collective intake of breath. Claire felt a rush of excitement. Suddenly, it felt like there was a reason for her to be part of the Scale. If they could just get into Glisten, maybe everything would turn out all right.

“Shane’s death was a tragedy,” Carlos said, his eyes focusing on each demon in turn. “Now it’s up to us to make sure that he did not die in vain. Stay strong, and don’t give up the fight. This will be when the demons finally get back into Glisten and turn the tables on the angels, once and for all!”

The room erupted in cheers. Claire found herself pounding the table along with the others, caught up in their enthusiasm. The determination in Carlos’s voice made her want to believe in the cause.

“Now,” Carlos said after a pause. “Let me speak with the Morgans for a moment. Alone.”

Julia, Ben, Maria, and Erik shuffled into the living room, eyebrows raised, leaving Carlos alone with Gunner and Claire. Claire tried to make eye contact with her twin, but he was focused completely on Carlos.

Carlos leaned back against the marble kitchen counter with his arms crossed, appraising them for a few minutes.

“You’ve both grown since I last saw you,” he said finally.

“Since . . . huh?” Gunner asked.

A smile spread across Carlos’s face. When he smiled, Claire caught a flash of red scales, rippling like a snake writhing across his skin. A Predator, she realized. But hadn’t Julia said they were all banished to Slag?

“Did you ever wonder what your mother was running from? Why you always had to leave schools?” Carlos’s smile grew wider. “Me. She was trying to hide you from
me
.” A gravelly laugh crackled out of him. “But I always knew where you were. Your mother and I may have had . . . our disagreements, but I respected her. I made sure you were taken care of, that you always had everything you needed. And I waited, to see what path you would follow. There’s strength in making your own choices, and living with those choices.”

There was a hard glint in his eye. Claire could tell he was looking at their wings. “I’m so glad you made the right choice,” he said. “And it’s time you knew the truth . . . I’m your father.”

Claire’s eyes went wide as she tried to take in the information. Her father was alive, and standing here in front of her? She felt a sudden urge to hug him and hold onto him, to tell him how glad she was that he was here, but she could tell that he would disapprove. Carlos stood like he was carved out of rock, his body all sharp angles and corners, as if he was ready for a fight at any moment. So instead, she simply nodded. “Nice to meet you,” she said.

“Dad.” Gunner’s voice was flat. “We’re glad you’re here. Now what we can do to avenge Shane’s death?”

Carlos grinned. The scales on his face flashed again, blood-red. Claire could tell that he approved of this sterile, almost empty reunion. There was no time for sentiment. No time to reflect on what could have been, the years they had lost. Claire thought about how hollow she felt from her breakup with Jim, the feeling that someone had pried out her heart and thrown it away. If she focused on just being a demon, though, it didn’t hurt as much. It was like she could turn off all her emotions.

“I’ll explain everything in time,” Carlos said. “But right now, Gunner, I need to talk to your sister, alone.”

Gunner nodded stiffly and headed to the living room, leaving Claire alone with Carlos. His unnerving dark eyes fastened onto her. “Claire,” he said without preamble. “I know about the Blest boy.”

She paled.

“I’m not angry, Claire.” He sighed. “I know he caused you pain. I just want you to know—he’s been playing you for a fool this whole time.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out an iPhone. Claire’s eyes widened in surprise that a demon powerful enough to control the weather would carry a phone. He saw her reaction and chuckled. “It’s a lot better than communicating by ravens like we did back in the day.”

Claire stared at him. Had he just made a joke?

Carlos’s smile disappeared, his voice turning serious. “I was taking pictures of Pearlton, trying to track General Lumen’s movements. And I also took pictures of the Feather that trains at her house. Look.” He tapped the screen and a picture of Jim and Sydney appeared. They were kissing underneath a willow tree. Claire staggered back, feeling dizzy and nauseous at the same time.

“Angels think they’re better than everyone else, Claire. Better than humans or demons. They want Glisten all to themselves and treat the Field—and everyone in it—like it’s a game. Jim Blest’s parents helped kill dozens of demons during the War of the Broken Wall. He doesn’t care about you. He’s just been spying on the demons through you, for his real girlfriend. Sydney Lumen.”

Claire opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Carlos put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it. “It’s okay,” he said in a voice that was surprisingly tender. “Burn that betrayal and that hurt with anger. Anger will refine your thinking and make you determined. Anger is the fuel for passion. And passion is the fuel for change.”

The words wheedled into her ears and seemed to echo in her mind. Claire trembled. Not with tears, this time, but rage. Anger. Passion. “I want . . .” she said through her teeth.

“Yes?” Carlos prompted.

“I want to make him pay.”

The same, slow smile spread on Carlos’s face. “We will, Claire. I promise you. We’ll make sure Jim and Sydney and the rest of the angels can never hurt anybody again. Together.”