Prophecy of the Most Beautiful (7 page)

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Authors: Diantha Jones

Tags: #teen, #Fantasy, #Young Adult, #greek mythology, #mythology

BOOK: Prophecy of the Most Beautiful
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Unsure of what to do next, but sure that playing like a sitting duck wouldn't cut it, she made sure her "yellow knickers" were still covered as she climbed from the bed, slow and alert. "I'm ready." Maybe there were a few answers on the other side of that door. Or maybe not, but the odds were evenly stacked.

They're probably gonna lock you up
, She thought to herself,
You should take this opportunity to bolt. You were a state champion onc
e. She eyed the unblocked exit only a few feet away from her.

"Don't bother," Strafford said, "I'll catch you."

She didn't doubt it for a second. She figured he must be the one they called when the other crazies in the hospital lost it or tried to make their getaway. He was strong enough, and oh yeah, he sure looked dangerous enough. It was his eyes––feral and gray. They were the eyes of a predator. A very powerful,
very
hot predator, one who was not threatened by her in the least. Yeah, she could run, and he would catch her. Problem was, she could see nothing wrong with that.

He glanced down at the girl who called herself Mystic. "Don't keep him waitin' long," He said. His tone carried a warning.

The girl curtsied, and as she came up, Strafford lost some of the I'm-a-hard-ass vibe and planted a kiss on her forehead. They shared an affectionate look and Mystic blushed into a cherry.
Woah
. Chloe's jealousy was like a tourniquet around her heart, and she couldn't figure out where it had come from. She didn't know him, he didn't know her, so what the crap? But Strafford found a quick fix and without another word or look in her direction, he left, pulling the door closed behind him and trapping her inside once again.

She felt like such a dork for feeling like the oxygen had just been sucked out of the room and wondered when, and if, she would see that gorgeous face again.

"Right this way, Oracle," The girl chirped, breaking into her thoughts. She glared. Why did they keep calling her that––
Oracle
? It had to be a code word for "headcase". Maybe "maniac". They would probably have a good laugh about all this later.

The cold marble floor sent chilly shockwaves through Chloe's sore bare feet as she walked across the room. She held her breath. This was it. After she walked through that door, she would either find answers or be put into the dreaded jacket and forced to hug herself for the next……
how long was she going to be locked away for?
She wished her mother was there to tell her that her life hadn't truly sunk to its lowest point. She knew her mom cared about her enough to lie to her face. Where
was
Beth? How could she leave her here to face this alone?

Feeling an eerie flood of anxiety wash over her, Chloe stepped through the open door, and stumbled forward with surprise. She blinked twice to make sure her eyes were seeing clear.

She was now in a very big closet with racks and racks of clothes, and to her relief, none of the garments looked like straight jackets. All four walls each held three long racks of clothes of all types and in the middle of the room were several built shelves containing pair after pair of shoes. Hats galore hung from the ceiling above and the doors to a large, standing jewelry box were flung open. Chloe could see lovely necklaces, rings, bracelets and earrings. On taller shelves and hooks, were bags and purses and her eyes were drawn to a cool knapsack with a colorful parrot on it. She scratched her head in confusion. What kind of psychiatric hospital was
this
?

"It's all yours, Oracle," Mystic said, "But we'll get to explore it later. The others are waiting for us."

"What
others
?"

Mystic pushed open a pair of double doors…into a hair salon. Chloe hadn't spent much time in them, obviously, but she knew what they looked like. It was a pink room with even pinker drapes over arched windows that looked out over a huge picturesque garden with every type of flower imaginable. There were hair dryers that you sat under, sinks for hair washing, and stations for doing manicures, pedicures, and facials. In the center was a chair that reclined back, and little trays and stands with all kinds of beauty products were set up around it. Now she was more confused than ever. Mental hospitals didn't have walk-in closets stuffed with designer clothes or salons with exquisite views of gardens.

"She's here, my sisters!" Mystic exclaimed.

Three young girls, busy with various tasks throughout the salon, all turned their heads towards them. They were dressed like Mystic––in wacky clothes with lots of sparkles and colored hair. One white, one a blood red, and the third, apple green. When they saw Chloe, their faces brightened and they put down whatever they were doing and gathered around her. Giggling and awing, they played in her tangled locks, poked at her skin, examined her fingernails and yanked on her robe. Mystic had to make them back off.

"Girls, girls," She said in her sweet voice, "You're frightening her." Chloe assumed it was all over her face. "Sit down over here, Oracle. We should begin right away." She gestured towards the chair in the center of the room. Chloe didn't budge.

"Come in, Chloe. They won't hurt you." It was the boy Ace. Where had he come from so fast? He had even changed clothes. He now wore a white collared shirt with a black vest and barely-knotted black tie. He still had on jeans, but had traded his skate shoes in for a pair of black leather boat shoes. She had to admit, along with his eye tattoo, he looked pretty stylish. He grinned at her entrance and waved her forward.

She still didn't move. "What hospital is this?" The girls covered their mouths and giggled.

"This isn't a hospital," Ace said, "Wha' made you think tha'?" He motioned towards the chair. "Jus' sit down, will you? We don't have much time. Trust me, no one here is tryin' to hurt you."

"Quite the opposite," Mystic said with a smile as she took Chloe's hand and guided her into the chair. She was still not convinced by the girl's sweet demeanor. Nevertheless, she stiffly settled back in the chair, preparing herself for whatever was about to go down.

"Pink or red?"

Chloe blinked. "What?"

"Pink or red?" The red-haired girl asked again. She held up two nail polish bottles. "I'm Haley Havoc, by the way."

Haley Havoc?
"Um, hi. I'll take black if you have it. I'm not a pink and red kind of girl." She heard Ace chuckle from his seat on a fancy chaise lounge in the corner of the room as if she'd said something funny. Haley only shrugged and began to rummage through drawer after drawer looking for her choice of color among the large collection of nail polish. Another of the girls, the one with the white hair, had begun to brush out her unruly mane, spraying something misty on it as she went and the other with the green hair was placing her feet in a golden tub of warm, soapy water. Mystic was holding up different shades of eyeshadow next to her face.

"What is this place?" She asked. "If it's not a mental hospital." And she still wasn't convinced that it wasn't one.

"Jus' know tha' you're safe here," Ace said with a nice smile.

"Will I be going home soon?" She pressed. "Where's my mom? Is she here somewhere?" The girls giggled.

"I would have to say no to tha' first question…I don't know to the second…and I definitely hope not to the third."

She went over those answers in her head. "Am I being held
hostage
?"

"Not in the way tha' you're thinkin'."

"What other way is there to think about it?
Ow!
" Her hair had just been yanked.

"Crystal Chaos!" Mystic exclaimed, "Be careful!"

"Sorry!" Crystal sprayed more mist and brushed softer.

"That's okay," Chloe mumbled, "I know it's a mess." She eyed Ace, back to business. "Am I allowed to leave?"

"No," was the no nonsense answer.

"Then I'm a hostage!"

"Not wha' I would call it."

"Well, what would you––" Mystic held up a light gold shadow next to her face and diverted her away from her thoughts.

"I think this one is perfect for you. It will look wonderful over your pretty blue eyes. Do you approve?"

Chloe shrugged. She couldn't care less about eyeshadow right now…or ever. "It's good enough, I guess."

"Great!" Mystic started looking through a box containing rows of lipstick, lifting up the little black tubes, looking at the bottom of them and putting them back if they weren't the color she was looking for. Every so often, she set one aside.

Haley was painting Chloe's fingernails black like she'd requested. The other girl was doing the same to her toes. She had no idea what was going on with her hair, but as usual, she didn't care. It could only get better from what it was. She just wished the girl would stop pulling on it so much.

She could admit that she'd let her guard down a bit. Probably a stupid thing to do, but these girls were only a harmless bunch of beauticians and manicurists with ridiculous names, not fighters. But Ace was another story. He was nice and all, but until Chloe knew his intentions, he was a threat.

"My brother leads us," Ace said, "The Quad, tha' is."

"What's the Quad?"

"The Quad,
we
, are a fraternity of guardians.
Your
guardians," Ace wore a proud smile, "We're your protectors."

"My protectors? From what?"

"Everythin'."

She snorted. "I don't need protecting from anyone or anything. Thanks though."

Ace smiled and it was clear that he hadn't taken what she'd said seriously. "We
all
need protectin' from things like the Keres."

"Who are the Keres?"

"They're crazed maniacal demons whose entire purpose is to make sure you die as violent a death as possible."

That got her attention. "
Demons
? What are you talking about?"

"It was a Ker tha' got Summer," And it became clear he knew everything. "She was our sister."

She swallowed the lump in her throat. Well, didn't that just soften her right up. "I'm––I'm really sorry." She meant it, even though she wasn't sure exactly what had happened anymore.

He shrugged, but he looked sad. "Death is an occupational hazard for us."

She did
not
want him to explain what he meant by that.

"His name is Nicolai," He continued, "We know it was him tha' was after you. Throwin' people off of high places has made him pretty famous. It's his favorite way to kill. He's wanted by the guard in like, four provinces."

Mystic stole her attention again by showing her a pinky gloss she had chosen instead of a lipstick. She also had a rosy blush and mascara––stuff Chloe never dreamed of wearing back home.

"How long have I been here?" She asked.

Ace was now standing beside her, watching the progress the girls were making. His foot tapped the ground to an impatient beat. "You've been here a couple of weeks now..."

"A couple of weeks?!"

"Tha's right. Even with Dr. Life workin' her magic, it still took a long time for you to wake up. Eleven days to be exact. But tha's not too bad really, they've been known to last longer."

Eleven days
? Chloe felt faint. "What do you mean by that? Known
what
to last longer?"

"The
komas
…" He cocked his head at her. "Nicolai threw you off the cliff too, where we found you…Hmm, Dr. Life said tha' you might not remember..."

She gulped and shook her head. There was just no way this could be true. She had seen this thing, the Ker, throw Summer, but if it had done the same to her, shouldn't she be sharing the girl's fate right now?
Death
?

"I'm not dead," She said. "Am I?"

Ace frowned. "O'course you're not. You didn't actually
land
or anythin'. You were in a
koma
when we found you, completely under. You were floatin'…like two feet off the ground…" He trailed off, realizing how ridiculous he sounded to her. He sighed. "It doesn' matter right now. Things'll make sense soon enough."

She just shook her head, too baffled to respond.

Mystic positioned herself above Chloe. "Close your eyes, Oracle." She did as she was told, though not sure why, and felt the gentle brush going back and forth across her eyelids.

"Nicolai will come back for you, you know," She heard Ace say right after her eyes had shut them all out, "At some time or another. Whoever hired him will want him to finish the job."

"Whoever
hired
him?"

"Aye. For the most part, Keres are free agents. For the right price, you can get them to kill anybody."

“So basically, they're assassins."

"I wish. Assassins jus' want you dead. Keres want you to suffer."

She had no response for that. Neither did she want to ask anymore questions that might reveal anything more about his sister's untimely death or her own supposed attempted murder, and she was sure she didn't want to hear anymore of Ace's fairy tale answers about her floating in the air and avoiding it. Neither were helping her to figure out what she was doing here or how she was going to get home.

"You can open your eyes now, Chloe," Mystic said. So she did. "Look up please." Chloe did that and Mystic applied a coat of mascara to her eyelashes. Her nails were painted and drying, and Crystal was using a curling iron to do something with her hair. She heard the sizzle of the mist from the heat.

"Strafford's the Quad leader, so tha' means he makes the rules," Ace said, examining her make-up job, "His authority is our law and disobeyin' him or tryin' to follow your own strong will, will serve you no good here. Besides, it'll piss him off good. Learn from me." Ace was giving her a look, as if he knew she was known for her strong will. "Might even get you killed, your will. Know wha' I mean?"

Chloe opened her mouth to say that she didn't know anything and to ask him to explain himself, to scream, to yell, to
demand
that they let her go. He must have sensed what she was about to do because he held up his hand to silence her before she could utter a single word. "Never mind." He headed for the salon door. "You'll understand soon enough, I know it. Word of advice though? Do us all a favor and don't give us another body to bury by doing somethin' stupid." He looked back over his shoulder. "Make her look good, girls. His lordship is waitin'."

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