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Authors: Susan Goldsmith

Tags: #fantasy, #angels, #paranormal

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BOOK: Abithica
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“Naw, that’s not it. Sydney is pretty, but it doesn’t fit
you.

“Shae Marie…” Lane was still chuckling, but now it was directed at her. He dropped down next to her, putting one arm around her shoulders. “Believe me, honey, I’m ecstatic you’re talking again, I really am, but let’s not forget our manners, okay? I didn’t hear Sydney ask for your opinion.”

That was my cue. “Well, then, I’ll just ask,” I chimed in. “What would
you
have named me, Shae?”

“Hmmm, let me think about that.” Her nose twitched like a bunny as she searched for the right word. “It would have to be something… something… foreign. Something unique. Maybe something from a dream, like an angel name.”

Foreign? Unique? Angel name? Were they lucky guesses on her part or something more? This was
not
going well at all. Another few guesses and she might blurt out how she was seeing someone else inside Sydney’s body, or worse. Children, especially girls, were susceptible to things like poltergeists and ghosts, and they often saw auras that adults couldn’t see. I couldn’t allow anything like that, not when she and her brother were already mysteries in my steadily worsening plight. What if she guessed what was behind the very thing I couldn’t figure out for myself, my own existence?

There were two exits I could see. Which one could I reach first? I’d been leaning over, but I was already back to my full height as I decided on the mall’s side exit, the same one I’d used the first time. Faith’s silver sandals had the tiniest of heels, so I could run in them.

“Good going, Shae! She’s looking for an exit. She’s gonna leave us now!”

He was clearly disappointed for her, but it could only get worse if Shae kept having lucky guesses about me. Better to leave now and get it over with. I was two paces away when he caught my wrist. Even though he was only trying to stop me, his touch sent my pulse rate soaring again. One touch from him, and already my defenses were crumbling.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he said, spinning me around. “Where are you going? Shae and I wanted you to join us for lunch. She’s been looking forward to it ever since yesterday, and a deal’s a deal.”

“What lunch? Lane, you mentioned some sort of treat, not lunch. I ate before I came.”

He threw up his hands in mock defeat. “Well, it’s settled then. Our treat will be a movie instead, right, Shae?”
Please?
He mouthed the word so she wouldn’t see.

“Please come with us,” she answered out loud. “I’ll share my Cracker Jacks with you. Please?”

“Cracker Jacks? Well, then I better say yes, right? How can I refuse a great offer like that? Do we give any to Lane or keep them all for ourselves?”

Shae giggled. For once I’d said the right thing. Actually, the movie idea was a lot better than dashing for an exit and causing all sorts of hurt on both sides. A couple of hours watching whatever movie it was, then the “thank you” and a final goodbye. Clean, quick, and painless. After that, I would just deal with Faith’s meddling in whatever way was needed.

But even as I was applauding my own wisdom, I had a premonition of being wrong. The mall exit might have been a better choice after all.

Chapter 6
 

The Legnas’ Lair, Seattle, Washington

 

Eliam swore.

It was his damned ADHD again, going into overtime and making it hard to remember what the instructions had been. Too much, too fast, all coming at him like paintball pellets from that eerie voice in the darkness over his head. If only he had some Ritalin with him, then… but no, that was over and done with. No more Rids! He’d thrown them all away the day he quit school. There was better stuff just about anywhere in the city if you knew who to ask, and who’d care what he did now anyway? Theresa sure didn’t. If she had her way, he’d have been stuck on the junk the rest of his life, just so she could manipulate him. Sisters did that, and she’d done it for years, but he’d finally outsmarted her. Tricked her into telling him about the Legnas and how excited she’d been when they’d decided to let her join a few months back. No details, but she sure did hint a lot about what they all did while wearing their long, black robes. She was getting her kicks for sure, and that was good enough for him. Hey, candles and rituals and all? That was Dungeons and Dragons stuff. Way cool! Who wouldn’t want to join something like that?

No doubt she was pacing around not far away, tickled pink about the whole scene. Her own little brother! She’d said to hurry and get his robe on, but Theresa always told him to hurry, another of her ways to control him, so he’d just take his sweet old time. Maybe the whole thing was a joke anyway, cameras and all that, except where would they put them if the ceremonial room was anything like this cobwebbed corner? All she’d tell him was that they were somewhere beneath Seattle, in the part of the buried city where nobody ever went ‘cause it was off limits. Some sort of market, with ghosts and all. Next time he wasn’t going to let them blindfold him while they led him through the tunnels. Didn’t matter they eventually let him take it off. He was no damn snitch! Who was he going to divulge their secret hiding place to anyway?

As soon as they’d gotten wherever it was, she’d left him alone. No sooner had he whipped off the blindfold when a really creepy voice came at him from above. Disrobe completely, it said and step into the ceremonial robe we’ve provided, but did they really mean for him to take off his undies, or was he supposed to keep them on under the crazy voodoo robe he was already wearing? He felt pretty naked in places he shouldn’t. Cold air currents were climbing up his legs, and the whole front of his robe was poking out because he was excited. So what? Maybe that was the idea. They had sex along with all the ritual stuff, didn’t they? Well, he was ready.

Theresa had already added her typical know-it-all blabber: don’t look them in the eye, don’t speak until spoken to, fold to your knees and bow until they release you, and whatever you do, don’t mess up the pledge or scream no matter how much it hurts. Yeah, sure. She probably added that last part just to get him all lathered up, but somehow none of it fit Theresa. She wasn’t the joking type. Wild, yes, but not funny wild. She rarely smiled, like maybe her face hurt her when she tried, but mostly she resembled a pissed-off green-eyed Egyptian cat. Most kids said “mama” as one of their first words. In her case, it was probably “idiot.”

At that very moment Theresa suddenly materialized, as if his thoughts were enough to call her to him.

“I told you to hurry so we could talk first,” she hissed, withdrawing her hands from the folds of her own robe to smooth down the wrinkles in his. In the candlelight, that bright red goat’s head flickered nearly black on her hand. She’d claimed it hadn’t hurt all that much, but then she always lied about such things, trying to show how cool she could be about being branded. That was the only word for it. The goat head told the whole world she was a Legnas disciple, nothing fake about it. He could almost smell the burned flesh when it came time to get his own hand done. Well, they’d better not do it before the kinky fun stuff if they expected him to perform at his best, or at all. Anyway, who even cared about robe wrinkles? Who’d see ‘em in the first place?

“Remind me once more why I’m letting these dudes brand
me
with that goat thing” he growled, “just for some freaky sex and all that. There are girls into kinky sex all over Seattle, so why shouldn’t I just kick the shit out of these weirdos instead? I could have my fun that way and forget the freakin’ goat. What’s the goat supposed to mean, anyway?”

Why was she avoiding his eyes? How come his robe had suddenly developed some sort of lint you couldn’t even see way down at the bottom edge, and why was she hell bent on brushing it away? She always did things like that when she wouldn’t face tough questions, coming up with all sorts of lily-livered baloney to cover her weakness. Worked on Mom and Dad way back when, but it’d never worked on him! Sure enough, she kept her head down when she answered.

“Does the goat head really matter? Look, Eliam, we aren’t homeless anymore, right? We have a roof over our heads and all the food we could ever want. What do you care if it’s a goat? You want it to be something else? A rhinoceros, maybe?”

“Does that mean you haven’t asked what the goat means, or they wouldn’t tell you, or is it that you know but you won’t tell me?”

“It means I did my job as your sister. You wanted security, they’re offering it. You wanted to belong to a family, they’re offering that, too. What you decide to do after you join is your problem, but they don’t let many new members in. I had to do lots of convincing, so you can at least show me a little gratitude.”

Her expression said she wanted to add, “idiot,” barely managing to choke it back. At any rate, she was making it sound like
he
ought to be grateful to
her.
Hell, ever since the Legnas had been taking care of them,
she’d
been taking care of the Legnas and having a real good time doing it.

“So it’s keep my trap shut while I’m getting all trembly, because my brilliant, big sister kept me out of foster homes after Mom and Dad died, right? If it wasn’t for your countless sacrifices, I’d be locked up in some weirdo’s house—your words—and sniveling about it. Big deal! If you ask me,
you
wanted in with these weirdos because you’ve got a hot box and they offered you some neat ways to cool it. You weren’t thinking about your little brother then, only about yourself and your itch. It was only later you remembered you even had a brother, and you still haven’t told me what the goat is all about. Some sort of sex symbol? Is that it?”

What a buzz kill she could be! His raging meat pole had already collapsed. Enough with the talking, and on with the action. “Okay, forget it. Where do I pledge my so-called loyalty and whatever else they want? Let’s get on with it before my chicksicle gets mistaken for a miniature prune.”

Gently she pulled his hood down, cutting off his peripheral vision. The gesture was almost tender. “Eliam, listen to me. Promise you won’t look them in the eyes. I don’t recommend their mouths, either. Just find a spot on their hoods somewhere in the middle and keep your eyes pinned there no matter what happens.”

“What? Hey, wait a minute. How… how bad is this going to be?”

Dark shapes were making their way down the dimly lit tunnel at that very moment. She followed his gaze, then quickly leaned closer, enough so he smelled peppermint on her breath. There was no more time. She spoke rapidly, running her words together.

“You’re going to have second thoughts. You’re going to consider running, but don’t. It’s too late. If you do, they’ll kill us both. If they even
suspect
you have doubts, they’ll kill us. Try and clear your mind, but if you can’t, just recite ‘I’m happy to serve. I’m happy to serve,’ over and over again. Do you understand what I’m saying? Can you do that?”

“Holy shit!”

“Do you?”

“Okay, okay. I get it. I’m happy to serve. Yeah.”

There were lots of better things she could have said, encouraging things, but no, she had to go and try scaring the crap out of him. She’d been that way as long as he remembered, about as supportive as the training bra she’d worn back when she was eight. He was about to voice his opinion out loud, but they were suddenly surrounded by black forms. These had to be the disciples, according to Theresa, but there was no way to tell who was who. It was the Ku Klux Klan, only in black!

They made no sound, but ushered him back down the tunnel and into a much larger room where other Legnas were assembled, shoving him so violently that he sprawled in the center onto something that felt like carpet. He pushed himself up slowly, but even before he looked up he knew there’d be no naked girls, no tables of food, no endless drugs. He could forget the cameras, too.

He was on his own now, in the creepiest situation he’d ever imagined.

Tucson

 

Somehow, crawling into Lane’s red Toyota pickup was unbelievably intimate. Sure it was just a truck, but now I knew what it looked like, knew that he drank Monster drinks, chewed the green Extra, liked rock music, spent time on dusty dirt roads, and did something requiring a pair of well-worn work gloves and a fairly complicated looking calculator. It was like crawling into Lane himself. His presence was all around me. It was exactly what I had pictured heaven to be and that was a problem. Because Shae had turned up the music, making it impossible to talk, I could wallow in my own brand of miserable silence as we headed off to the movies. Not only had I failed to maintain my so-called self-control, I was still reeling from Shae’s remarks about my name. And then there was that thing Faith had said about children following me and how people stared when I walked by. She was right, but I’d never given it that much notice before now.

Shae sat on the window side, so close that an atom wouldn’t have had proper room to breathe. The only reason she wasn’t on my lap was because Lane insisted she wear a seatbelt. I was still in a state of mild shock, not caring what movie we were going to or if we went at all.

He whirled the pickup into a parking lot, chose a spot, and shut off the engine. Shae immediately chucked her seatbelt and pulled me out after her, telling Lane to hurry up even though he was already rounding the truck’s rear end. He slipped a hand down to the small of my back.

BOOK: Abithica
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