Authors: Elizabeth Miles
Fury
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
SIMON PULSE
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First Simon Pulse hardcover edition August 2011
Copyright © 2011 by Paper Lantern Lit
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Designed by Mike Rosamilia
The text of this book was set in Bembo.
Manufactured in the United States of America
2 4 6 8 10 9 7 5 3 1
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Miles, Elizabeth, 1982–
Fury / by Elizabeth Miles. — 1st Simon Pulse hardcover ed.
p. cm.
Summary: After high school junior Emily hooks up with her best friend’s boyfriend, and football quarterback Chase’s life spirals out of control, three mysterious Furies—paranormal creatures that often assume the form of beautiful women—come to town to make sure that Emily and Chase get what they deserve.
ISBN 978-1-4424-2224-7 (hardcover)
1. Erinyes (Greek mythology)—Juvenile fiction. [1. Erinyes (Greek mythology)—Fiction.
2. Supernatural—Fiction. 3. Revenge—Fiction. 4. High schools—Fiction. 5. Schools—Fiction.]
I. Title.
PZ7.M59432Fu 2011
[Fic]—dc22
2010053367
ISBN 978-1-4424-2226-1 (eBook)
To my parents
High above a freeway, a girl gripped the overpass railing. She almost slipped as she maneuvered onto the tiny ledge, and for one second she felt a sheer moment of panic, clutching and grasping for balance.
The wind was strong. The traffic was a whir below her, a river of cars and headlights streaming together. Her hands were freezing; her fingers numb, cramping. The gold snake pendant at her collarbone glinted even in the dark.
Everything felt hazy—the blackness before her eyes and the blackness of her thoughts. She was breaths away from jumping. She could feel the darkness moving through her.
And then she leaped. She was flying. Falling.
In a flash, she realized she couldn’t take it back.
Her lungs were being squeezed to pinpricks. She couldn’t
breathe. Icy air swirled around her, terror radiating through her body.
She clawed at the nothingness.
She screamed.
Ascension, or The Party
Emily Winters stood in front of her bedroom mirror, a fluffy white towel wrapped around her torso, as she tried to work a tangle from her dark, dripping hair.
The room was quiet, except for the radiator next to her closet—it made its trademark ticking sound, one that had kept her awake as a child. She always imagined an old witch trying to claw her way out of the wall. But she was used to it by now. Just like the tiny mole above her right eyebrow—she’d had it since birth, and the only time she ever noticed it was when someone else commented on it.
Someone like Zach McCord, for example. Last week in earth science, the class no one ever paid attention in, he’d leaned toward her to steal a peek at her quiz. Then he’d looked
up into her eyes and touched the edge of her eyebrow. “Beauty mark,” he’d said. A shiver had run through her as he turned around, and that was that.
Thump.
Out of the corner of her eye, Em saw something white flash by her window. As she whirled to look, she heard another heavy thump.
She cinched the towel tighter, her heart hammering and her mind immediately churning out visions of robbers and murderers. She waited a second, listening, but heard nothing more. Clutching her plastic comb, she approached the window to peer outside. The front porch light shone on the blanket of winter snow covering the brittle, dark yard and the driveway that sloped down to Em’s quiet street.
Of course someone hadn’t tried to break in, she told herself, lowering the comb with an embarrassed smile (and seriously, of all the weapons she could have picked—a
comb
?). Nobody got robbed in Ascension, and certainly not in this part of town. It must have been a clump of snow falling from the old oak tree next to the house.
No sooner had her heart stopped pounding when the
bing
of the chat messages began: first one, and then several more, in such rapid succession it sounded like an alarm clock.
Em sighed and went over to her laptop, which was sitting among books and papers on her bed. Em hated working at the
desk in the corner of her room—she used it mostly for clothing storage. Currently, the desk chair was completely obscured by a mound of scarves, dresses, and vintage blazers.
Gabs357:
Em? U there?
Gabs357:
um hello?
Gabs357:
K well I’m getting ready and I was wondering, hair up or hair down?
Gabs357:
Emmmmmm! U promised to help! Also I’m torn between the blue sweater dress (w/short slvs) and new jeans w/pink ruffled top . . . what do u think? And where’s my black cardigan—do you have it?