Night Fury: First Act (8 page)

Ari spots me first. She looks flustered, prattling off harsh words in French. When she settles on me, she beams. “Oh, dear. You look beautiful.”

Frankie looks up from placing vegetables onto serving dishes, and rather than smiling, she looks down at my clothes and pales. “Oh, Cat...”

Before she can say a thing, Bob—
no, scratch that
—Father Robert appears by my side, dressed the part. He smiles down at me. “You look very pretty, girlie.” But the expression doesn’t reach his eyes.

My mind reels. “What’s going on?”

Father Robert puts on a tight smile. “Change of plans. We have an extra guest tonight. An outsider.”

Oh, shit.

My eyes widen as I’m suddenly panicked. “Should I go change?”

Frankie cringes, while Bob utters quietly, “Too late for that. They’re already here. Just go with it. We’ll be okay.”

“We’re here!” comes from the back entrance.

Smiling widely at Clark’s voice, I hear Frankie mutter, “Oh, shit,” a second before I turn to see Clark.

And his date.

***

I
take my fork and stab at a roasted potato on my plate so hard that a shrill squeaking noise fills the awkward silence of the church’s dining quarters. I seem to miss everyone cringe and wince at the high-pitched sound.

I’m oblivious to everything and everyone at the moment. My mood tonight went from hopeful to murderous. Yes. Murderous.

Literally.

If I had a job tonight, I would have executed it in mere minutes. Blood pumps through my veins at such a speed I can hear it pulse and roar through my eardrums.

I’m furious. But what makes me even more furious is that I’m not sure why I’m so angry.

I knew it. I told Frankie Clark and I were just friends, but she pushed. And pushed. And pushed until I thought—for just a moment—we could have something good together. Sure, my feelings for him have changed, but he’s a great looking guy; he’s sweet, adorable and a great friend, and I’m sure—given the chance—I could fall in love with him.

It took me all day to work up the courage to admit I wanted to kiss him, that I wanted to feel his lips on mine, because I know if I had been given the opportunity to kiss him, that’s all I would’ve needed to know if Clark and I are compatible.

Although, you felt the
zing
with James...

That wasn’t a zing. I was wrong about James. This time around, when I feel the zing, I’ll have something to compare it to. Something to judge it against.

This time, you’ll know if it’s lust or something more.

I sure as hell hope so.

After Clark and
Michelle
arrived, I stood in the kitchen blinking stupidly at the pretty woman, completely missing my introduction to her. Bob nudged me in warning, so I gritted my teeth and held out my hand to the obnoxiously kempt outsider.

As I shook her hand and smiled, I pictured picking every blonde hair out her head one-by-one. I thought about taking the fork from the long kitchen bench and gouging her pretty blue eyes out. It would’ve been so easy to take the carving knife next to the resting racks of lamb and slit her dainty little throat, then watch the blood and life ooze out of her simultaneously.

But then she smiled at the mention of my name. Then hugged me.

“Oh, wow! You’re Cat! Clark talks so much about you.” Winking, she chuckled. “You’re his special girl.”

I stood there mid-embrace, begging my lip not to curl at her touch, while pleading with my hand to avoid flipping her ass-over-tit and breaking her wrist.

My response was laced with venom. “That’s funny. He never mentioned you.”

Loosening her hold on me, she took a step back and fluttered her lashes up at him. When he smiled back down at her, it hurt a little. Irrationally. That smile had been directed at me so many times before; I wonder how I missed just how special it was.

That’s
my
special smile.

She beamed at me. “Well, we didn’t tell anyone we were seeing each other.” Taking Clark’s hand, her smile softened. “We wanted to make sure we knew each other a bit better before we took the next step.”

My heart skipped a beat.

Excuse me, Cinderella?

Next step? Next
step
?

I swallowed hard, then stuttered, “N-next step?”

Clark cut in then, “Yeah, meeting each other’s family.”

Family. Yes. We are a family. I should be happy for him. I should.

So why do I feel as though she’s won and I’ve lost?

Jaw set, I stab at a carrot with such force I almost crack my dinner plate. Father Robert sits at the head of the table, with Sisters Arianne and Francis by his sides. On one side of the table, Michelle and Clark sit close together, whispering soft words to each other.

I fight hard to hide my subtle eye roll.

Oh, puh-leeze. Someone gag me.

On my side of the table, Marco sits between Ari and me, leaving me at the open end of the table.

Michelle speaks up, “So, Cat, where do you go to school?”

Before I can answers with, ‘I’ve been training as an assassin since before you knew your times-tables’, Bob cuts me off as he states, “Cat is in training here at the church.” He smiles proudly at me. “She’s going to be a nun.”

Michelle’s brows rise in surprise. “Oh, wow,” her eyes narrow at my dress, “I didn’t realise you could wear things like that.”

My mouth opens, but once again, I’m cut off, this time by Frankie, “We’re a smaller church, and although our beliefs remain the same as the Vatican, you could say we’re a little more liberal that way.” Frankie smirks at Michelle. “The way Cat dresses doesn’t affect what she believes in, but most days, she wears a modest outfit and veil.”

Michelle nods, face blank. We all watch her intently, hoping to God she buys our bullshit. When she smiles for the hundredth time tonight, we all seem to exhale in relief.

While everyone chats away, I mope around my meal. When a husky voice whispers by my ear, I jump. “You look beautiful, pussy cat.”

Blood rushes to my cheeks. “Thank you.”

It’s then when I stop focusing on the happy new couple and look around me. Frankie and Bob talk with their heads close together, while Ari and Michelle talk from across the table, with Clark listening in on their conversation. And Marco...

Holy shit.

I hadn’t really noticed Marco until he spoke to me. Conflicting emotions coarse through me. My cheeks flush hotter. Marco looks amazing. He’s made an effort this evening, and dressed up in dark jeans and a black long-sleeved shirt. My eyes close as I suddenly catch his scent, and it makes me want to bury my nose in the crook of his neck and lick a trail up to his jawline.

Oh, fuck.

You don’t ever think about Clark that way.

No.

I don’t.

Before my mind can stop my mouth, I respond to Marco with, “You look beautiful, too.” He lifts his head and slowly turns to me, lips twitching.

Shit!

Cheeks so red they might just burst into flames, I quickly mutter, “Not beautiful—handsome. You look handsome.” I shrug in an act to seem as though I’m unaffected by his magnificence. “Not that you don’t every other day, but with the dress jeans and shirt, you don’t just look handsome—you look gorgeous.”

Oh, for fuc—SHUT UP!

Really. Kill me, please.

Having had this conversation quiet enough so no one else could possibly hear, I sit in silence blinking down at my lap, my face on fire. Thankfully, Marco gives me the silence I need right now.

My mouth is dry. I’m suddenly parched.

“I need water,” I croak, and reach for my glass at the same time Marco does. Our hands collide and knock my glass full of water all over the table, where it dribbles and spills over the side and into my lap.

Marco mumbles, “Shit,” as I jump up so fast, my chair flies back, tipping over with a
boom
that echoes throughout the room.

As Marco reaches out to me with his napkin in-hand, I step back, away from the source of my discomfort. “I’m sorry; I’m so darn clumsy sometimes.” I force a strained chuckle, holding my own napkin to my soaked dress. I look to Clark and whisper, “I’m so sorry.” Blinking away tears of mortification, I quickly turn to Bob and ask, “May I be excused?”

Before he can answer, I’m out the door.

––––––––

H
ave you ever been so embarrassed about something all you wanted to do was crawl in a hole and die?

Well, that’s exactly how I feel right now.

My feet move quickly up the stairs and down the hall to my room, where I throw open the door, close it behind me and lock it. I shrug out of my dress, humiliated at the fact I wore something special for a man who didn’t appreciate it. A man who didn’t want me.

I feel rejected for all the wrong reasons.

A day ago, Clark was just my friend. And without him even knowing, I have spent the last twenty-four hours contemplating our non-existent relationship beyond repair.

I quickly dress in plain black pyjama pants and a loose white tee; I slide on my slippers and retreat to a place I always feel welcome. Going the long way around to avoid our guests, I slip downstairs and out Bob’s private entrance to the side of the building. I tiptoe my way to the back entry, where my haven awaits me.

I shuffle over to the garden, but surprise has me screeching to a halt.

Clark sits at the bench by the tree beside my garden.

Sighing, I run my hand through my hair and take a small step forward. Clark sits with his elbows resting on his knees, his face in his hands. The sound of leaves crunching beneath my feet has Clark looking up at me. His eyes meet mine in an intense stare.

My heart rate spikes. “Hi.”

He looks at me a moment longer, and he looks at me as though I’m a stranger. “Hey.”

So very awkward.

Make it stop.

Clark doesn’t look up at me, but his voice comes out thick and low. “What’s happening with us, Cat?” When I don’t make an attempt to answer—because, quite frankly, I have no idea what to say—he sighs, “I know you know. Frankie warned me before I came out looking for you.”

I slowly make my way over to the bench and hesitantly sit by his side. I didn’t want to go here tonight, especially when Clark’s date is waiting for him inside, but there’s no avoiding it. “I don’t know anything. I thought she was joking.” I roll my eyes and nudge him gently with my shoulder. “You know how Frankie is; she’s sarcastic so often she even starts to believe her own bullshit.”

Much to my relief, he chuckles. “Yeah, I know, but she’s honest when counts.” He leans forward and places his elbows back onto his knees. “It’s true though; she wasn’t lying.” He turns his head and says sincerely, “I think I’m in love with you.”

My throat tightens, along with my gut. I’m finding it hard to breathe.

Love hasn’t worked out well for me in the past. It’s not something I associate with happy emotions.

“How do you know?” I whisper.

He barks out a humourless laugh. “I know, Cat. I just know,” he pauses, “or at least I thought I did. I’m not sure about anything anymore.” He looks over at me. “You know why I didn’t bring Michelle here earlier?”

I shake my head in complete silence.

He explains, “Because I wasn’t sure if I was in love with you, or if I was in love with Cat from three years ago.” He breathes deeply and continues on an exhale, “Then you came back to Mirage, and all these feelings came rushing back from where I hid them, but I was already seeing Michelle. I didn’t want to be unfair to her, so I delayed her meeting you all. So when I finally decided to bring her down here to meet you guys, Frankie took the opportunity to spill her guts to you, and when we got here, you start acting like a little kid who had to share her favourite toy.”

I flush and glare all at once. “I did not!”

He smirks. “You did, Cat. You really did.” Placing my hands on the bench, I bite my lip to stop myself from getting defensive. A warm hand comes over mine, and I look up into Clark’s eyes. He utters, “It’s okay. I would’ve done the same thing.”

My gaze moves to my garden—my pride and joy—and without permission, my mouth opens and reveals things I never intended to share. “I had the biggest crush on you.” I smile into the night. “You were my guy, but you didn’t even know it. I was fifteen when I saw you for the first time. I knew what Mirage was and why you were there, but I was never allowed near you, and I think in a lot of ways that made you safe. You were a really safe person for me to have a crush on.”

He smiles sadly, and I know this isn’t something he wants to hear.

I go on, “Then came time for my
first
initiation mission, and I had to work with you. And when I got to know you...” I pause for a moment, unsure if I want to tell him anymore. Acting against my gut feeling, I tell him honestly, “...I thought you were amazing, everything a girl could ever want in a guy. You were super smart and sweet. You were attentive and gave me your time, and I,” I swallow hard and whisper, “I was in love with you, for a very long time.”

Clark sucks in a quick breath. I can feel his eyes on me when he mutters, “I feel like there’s a
but
in there somewhere.”

A small smile tilts my lips. “But a lot has happened. It’s been years, and what happened with James...it hurt. There was a long time where I questioned my every feeling, because it felt like everything was a lie, and...” my heart sinks as I realise now is the time to be honest, cruelly so, “...and I forgot about you. You drifted into the background. I was locked out of Mirage and focused on training. I didn’t want to love you anymore, and subconsciously, I think I stopped.”

The silence wraps around us in a cocoon of discomfort, but if I have to be here with anyone, I’m glad it’s with Clark. He has a way of making a person feel better, just by doing nothing other than being in their presence.

A minute passes. Then two. Finally, he speaks gently, “This is so fucked up.”

That being the farthest thing from what I imagined he would say, a startled laugh flies out of me. Relief loosens some of the tension in my chest. “Yeah. It is. Fucked. Totally.”