Sky Ghosts: All for One (Young Adult Urban Fantasy Adventure) (Sky Ghosts Series Book 1) (26 page)

And now she was reminded of them again, seeing him like this, with his legs folded under him, his broad shoulders slouched and hands clasping the edge of her bed. His hair was messy and falling into his eyes, and he was shirtless and shuddering, whether from the cold or from something that bothered him. His figure lacked only heavy wings folded behind his back. And well, she wasn’t sure if angels were supposed to have tattoos, even small ones.

“What is it?” she asked finally, pulling her blanket up. “What do you want to ask?”

Chad looked up. Half of his face was green from the microwave’s light, and it created sharp shadows under his eye and cheekbone, making him look devilish, one eye gleaming bright-green in the darkness. But his expression was strained and desperate, his eyebrows knit, and lips parted as if he was in shock.

“Have you ever killed a human? Not a Sky fighter, but an ordinary human?” he asked suddenly, and she forgot how to breathe.

She stared down at him, eyes wide and not blinking, and scrambled in her blank mind for any reason why he would ask this in the middle of the night. Almost a minute passed, and she drew a slow, careful breath.

“No, why?” she whispered and slid her legs off the bed. “Why are you asking??”

He blinked as if realizing what he was doing for the first time.

“I don’t know,” he answered, dazed. “I don’t know why I could ever think so,” he looked at her with so much hope, as if she knew the answer, his long eyes wondering and confused.

She sighed quietly and got up, pulling him upward by the shoulders. He was shivering badly, she realized with a surprise. Of course, it was a little chilly and damp in the lodge, but she felt alright. Chad raised his head and looked at her through the tangled hair. He was so much taller, and yet somehow he seemed no more than a boy to her at that moment.

She shook her head, her hair spilling over her bare shoulders.

“I don’t know if you’re aware, but we have a Code. We live by it. We don’t use guns or explosives, we don’t show on the streets in gear and armed, and we don’t harm humans if they’re not a threat to us. Even criminals. The most we can do is knock them out, that’s- ”

“
I’m
a threat to you right now,” he exhaled, interrupting her.

“No,” she cut off, but he shook his head.

“Eugene’s men have already killed some of yours. They came for me.”

“Right now you’re our hope,” she blurted out before she could have stopped herself, seeing how shaken he was. She drew a breath before continuing. “Think about it! Eugene hasn’t made so much fuss for years. Even if we’re not coping with it that well, we’re still close to something important.”

She fell silent, and for a minute he just looked at her, breathing deep and not knowing what else to say. He knew she would never agree with him anyway, so in the end he just dropped it.

“Okay,” he breathed out. “I understand.” He managed to give her a weak smile. “But I still can’t sleep. You wanna do something since we’re awake?” he suggested, shrinking inwardly as soon as the words slipped from his lips. It was good he was still crazed up from his dream, because otherwise he would never have had enough courage to say something so bold.

She blinked.

“Are you out of your mind??”
Oh, here it goes,
he thought. “It’s two AM!” she pointed at the microwave. “And you look sick. Get under the blanket, now!”

She pushed him to his armchair. Her hands left cold imprints on his body, and the touch sobered him up a little more.

He could do nothing but obey and lie down, not taking his eyes off her. She stood by his feet and gazed down at him, her look stern, her arms crossed over her small chest.

“I said
under
the blanket,” she whispered, not very patiently. Chad scooted on the bed, pulling his blanket out from under him and covering himself with it.

“I won’t sleep anyway,” he protested quietly, looking at her, and Pain sighed again.

She stepped around the armchair and sat on its edge, right by his arm. He ached to reach out and pull her down with him, and for a second that arm felt completely alien while he willed it to stay where it was.

“I’ll make sure you will,” she said, and some of the usual malevolent gleam was back in her eyes.

He smirked weakly.

“Then tell me a story,” he joked, since she seemed to be in a good mood. She treated him just like Jane would, he realized with a bit of surprise. So it wasn’t just their looks that were similar, after all?

“Oh, you want a story before you leave me alone so I can sleep again?” she said with irony, and he gave her a boyish smile. “Okay, I’ll give you one,” suddenly she said and shrugged.

His eyes widened. Really? Pain, telling bedtime stories? Everything got mixed in his head as he moved closer to the edge to make some room for her. She sat beside him and pulled her feet up, sliding them under his blanket. They were small, thin and scarred, toenails glistening with polish, and he remembered how with these very same feet she broke rib cages in that apartment downtown like they were made of waffles. No way would he ever get used to this.

He watched her curiously from below, feeling as someone might feel watching a butterfly sit nearby, afraid to scare it off with the sound of voice or an abrupt movement.

“Once there was a Sky Ghost named Joseph…”

As her voice carried in the darkness, he wasn’t sure where the borders between her story and his dream were. But he saw no more nightmares. He dreamed of a noble Sky Ghost and his little daughter, which he had taught everything she needed to know to become a better warrior than he was. He didn’t know the daughter’s name, though, and when he woke up in the morning, he could barely remember what his dream was about. But he knew for sure it was a good one.

The barn was dark already when Chad picked up a garbage bag and came out of the room, heading to a big metal bin in the corner and trying not to trip over something. The sisters stood in his way talking about something worriedly. They still were in their training clothes, shorts and tank tops, and their faces glistened with perspiration. That day their training had taken much longer than usual, and they hadn’t even had their supper yet.

“I think if something happened, Peter calling us would be the first thing,” Jane said, shaking her head with disagreement. “Maybe he’s just busy with his work, something unusual, and he forgot about time. It’s only nine.”

Pain bent down to lay her katana on the bench.

“How can you know why he hasn’t called? Maybe something bad has happened, and right now Peter needs our help?”

“What help?” her sister interrupted her sharply. “Running around, saving the guys from the Beasts’ knives? Even if it is so, there’s no way we can help Peter by showing up there. Besides, we shouldn’t leave this place. He really thought it all through, and leaving here we’ll just throw it all away,” she waved her hand. She looked angry: her cheeks were flushed, her eyes shining, and Chad couldn’t help but think how much she resembled Pain at the moment.

“Okaaay… Then let’s call him,” Pain said, putting her fists on her hips.

“You’re so sure that Eugene hasn’t located our signal yet? What if he has, and Peter knows about it, and that’s why he doesn’t call?” Jane shrugged.

“He said to call in case of an emergency.”

“And this is an emergency? His one hour delay?”

“Absolutely,” Pain nodded. “In these five most boring days, this situation is likely to be considered an emergency.”

Jane grimaced, obviously not in the mood for her sister’s twisted humor.

Chad dropped the bag into the bin and closed it, watching the sisters argue.

“I think you shouldn’t worry. Peter can be busy with something, that’s all. Just wait a little more, and he will call,” he said, heading back to the room.

Pain watched him go with a mix of worry and contempt on her face. She sighed and looked back at her sister.

“Okay, let’s wait until ten and then we’ll call him.”

*

The sun was low, and the buildings around him cast long, dark shadows on the street. He walked a couple of blocks to the bar and pushed the door open. The night had not yet come, but the room was already full with people and smoke. They stared at him, peering through the gloom as he passed them by; stared and then looked away, shrinking back into their seats.
Pathetic goons
, he thought as he walked through them, his eyes on the table by the opposite wall.
Get your money every week and still hate me more than anything, don’t you?

He didn’t really care about them, though. He came here for one particular person, and that person sat at the table by the wall. He could have called, of course, but he didn’t feel like it. Somehow it was interesting to see what his chief fighter was doing instead of doing his job. There was another one sitting in front of him with a beer bottle in his hand. Eugene didn’t know his name and couldn’t care less. He came up to the table and looked at his man; the other one rose to his feet without a word and left. A waitress hurried to their table as he took a seat, feeling half of the eyes in the room on him.

“Are you enjoying your evening, Abdel?” he asked, gesturing for the waitress to bring him a beer, the same as his companion had.

Abdel moved his heavy shoulders uncomfortably, cursing in his mind.

“No, not really,” he answered.

The air moved slowly between them – the shield was strong. He could feel how it tickled his forearm slightly where Eugene’s arm lay close to his.

“Did you find the boy? No, don’t bother, I know what the answer will be,” Eugene said quickly with a disappointed grimace. “However, I did. Would you mind if I said that I’m the one who deserves to hang out at the bar? No? Thought as much,” he added flatly and took the bottle that appeared on the table without a glance in the girl’s direction.

“What do I do now, boss?” Abdel asked without unnecessary explanations. He knew Eugene didn’t care about them.

“Now you clear out, get fifty men, and go here,” he handed him a piece of paper with GPS coordinates. “And by men I mean men, not those crippled morons you sent the last time.”

Abdel didn’t say anything, but those “morons” were their best fighters. The whole year that he had worked for Eugene, he had been training them to be his special occasion squad, only to get them all shredded once they met the sisters. Hatred and respect warred inside him as he thought of the girls. He suppressed a sigh, taking the paper and getting up.

“Will do, boss.”

But suddenly, Eugene held up his index finger with a speculative expression.

“Wait, I’ve got a better idea,” he stared at the wall behind Abdel’s back sightlessly, his dark eyes unreadable. “I think I may be a little bit offended by this whole situation. It’s time to give a good lesson to Peter for interfering, don’t you think?” Eugene looked at him with a maniacal gleam in his eyes. “I say, you go and gather everyone. You can start with this bar. I see a lot of familiar faces here. You have thirty minutes, and then I’ll meet you all on the roof. Everyone who ditches tonight, will be fired tomorrow.”

Abdel looked at him with his eyebrows raised, but Eugene just threw up his hand.

“Why are you still here?”

*

The phone buzzed loudly, making Pain jump and throw the towel away. She grabbed it off the table and stabbed at the answer button.

“Peter? Is everything alright?” she asked, looking at her sister, who froze near the open bathroom door.

“It’s not Peter,” a familiar voice sounded from the phone, “Pain, is that you?”

She paused, surprised, and tugged on a lock of her hair nervously.

“Yes.”

“It’s Jerry.”

She tensed, her nerves prickling somewhere in the base of her neck. Suddenly, time seemed to slow down and thicken.

“Is everything alright? Why are you calling? Is Peter okay?” she asked, looking at her sister with anxiety. There was something in Jerry’s voice, something dark and odd and frightening, making her go cold and still.

The other end answered with a short silence.

“Listen to me, Pain.”

She glanced at the others, feeling the blood drain from her face. There was such utter silence in the barn, it seemed they could hear cockroaches run through it.

“I’m listening,” she responded when she didn’t hear anything else from Jerry.

“Pain, you have to get the hell out of there as soon as you can,” Jerry said in a strained voice. “The Beasts… They’ve headed for you already,” his voice broke on the last word.

She frowned, feeling her pulse accelerate.

“Jerry, what’s wrong? I don’t recognize your voice.”

A nervous laugh sounded on the other end.

“What’s wrong? Eugene’s got your coordinates. All this time, Pain, I was working for him. All this…” he broke off, swearing, and she suddenly tasted blood on her lip where she bit it. Now time didn’t seem to flow at all. “In that apartment – it was me, I gave him the aiming. And the building plan, and the barn. Pain, he had my parents, I didn’t have a choice!” Jerry broke off, taking a ragged breath. He was trying to explain himself, though she hadn’t said a word to him. “He promised he wouldn’t touch them if I do what he asks. And I did as he said. I’ve let Peter down so badly, and now they’re
dead
. And the worst thing is…” Jerry fell silent, breathing hard on the other end, and she never got to know what the worst thing was. She realized she was holding her breath and exhaled slowly. Before she found the words again, Jerry continued.

“Not that you should be worried about me after all this. You don’t have much time, get out of there. Fly to the city and lie low. You still have a chance. A small one, though,” Jerry swore again, and something clattered in the background. “Goodbye, Pain.”

“Goodbye,” she said mechanically, listening to the beeps already.

She couldn’t move and stood frozen to the floor, her eyes wide and not blinking. The others waited, until Chad came up to her, took the phone, and tossed it on the sofa.

“What should we do?” he asked, gripping her chin with his fingers and looking into her eyes.

Pain stared back at him, lost in thought, but after a moment she snapped out of the blankness in her head.

“Get dressed, we’re leaving,” she answered in a flat voice. “Don’t take the bags, only what you can put in your pockets,” she added, tearing her gaze away from Chad’s strained eyes and glancing at her sister. “Take all the weapons, and save something for these two.”

She left Chad standing with a frowned look and came up to the pegs to put on her gear and boots.

In five minutes everybody was dressed. The girls were wearing their gear – there was no need to hide anymore – and bristled with steel. The guys wore their own clothes. It felt comforting somehow, Chad thought, putting on the familiar beige sweater and jeans.
No borrowed clothes for the big end, huh,
he thought with a grim irony, but then his gray hoodie, the one that Pain had slept in, caught his eye. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye to that one, so he snatched it off the peg and pulled it over his sweater. Dave already had his jeans, T-shirt, and black leather jacket on, and he looked awfully pale, his eyes glistening nervously and his hands trembling. Chad looked away. It was sickening, all of it, this wild hunt. And it was only happening because of him.

He came out of the room to tell Pain that they were almost ready. She was in the cellar, gathering her weapons, so he came to the hatch and peered down.

“Pain! We’re ready!” he called out, but there was no reply. He frowned and climbed down the ladder quickly.

As he stepped on the cellar floor, he saw immediately that something was wrong. She stood by the shelves with a short dagger grasped in one hand. She wasn’t moving, packing, or sorting through her things. She just stood there. A frown creased his face. He approached her slowly, a small statue in the white light of the cellar, clad in black and stone-still, she didn’t even seem to breathe.

“Hey,” he said softly, coming up to her and placing his hands on her shoulders, turning her to face him. “What is it?”

She tipped her head back, looking at him, a thousand emotions warring in her eyes.

“This is it. This is the end, isn’t it?” she asked in a quiet voice. “I can feel it, we’re not gonna make it through this night,” she shook her head and dropped her gaze.

He exhaled loudly.

“You don’t know that,” he disagreed. “You
can’t
know that. Why do you always take responsibility for everything? Don’t you think it’s too much pressure for one person?” he tried to comfort her, but she shook her head.

“Because it is my responsibility,” she said, savagely stuffing the dagger into her belt. “Jane is, and you two are. I just can’t accept the fact that I can’t help it at all,” she backed away from him, shaking his hands off her shoulders.

“You can help! This is what you’ve been doing all this time, helping us. And though I’m sure somehow we’ll make it through, you should accept the fact that not everything is in your power!” he said, trying to keep his voice down.

Pain stared at him. Her eyes blazed up as her emotions got through, and her face quickly turned into a mask of despair.

“Accept?” she asked bitterly and threw her arm up, pointing at the hatch. “She’s seventeen years old, Chad! Seventeen years, that’s all she got to live her life, that’s what I could give her!” she said harshly and then whirled and kicked one of the scattered tin cans angrily, sending it flying into the safe’s door. It smashed in with a deafening bang, leaving a deep dent there.

Chad fell silent, his look unsure now. She turned and came back to him, locking her desperate gaze with his lost one. She obviously waited for him to respond, to say something, but he was speechless. There was nothing he could say to her, really. He never had any siblings, any responsibility for somebody. He didn’t know how it felt, he understood that much, at least. So he kept silent, and she took one more step to him and stood just a few inches away now, holding her head high.

She nodded, confirming his silence, and added bitterly, “So don’t you tell me what I should or shouldn’t do. Screw you and screw your so-called advice.”

Chad froze. There was so much hatred in her voice that it shocked him for a moment. He felt his breath quicken, anger boiling in his veins, faintly at first, but the thoughts that ran through his head weren’t helping. He was only trying to help. So what if he didn’t have the right words? He had never been in a situation like this one, and he was no damn psychic to know some magic way to fix all this. God knew, all these days he tried to be nice to her, to be of help, and what did he get in return? Her taking it out on him? He had done nothing to deserve it.

He glared at her, clenching his fists at his sides.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, woman, aren’t you?” he muttered, his voice edged hoarsely.
From now on I will do whatever I want
, he added in his mind.