Sky Ghosts: Marco (Young Adult Urban Fantasy Adventure) (Sky Ghosts Series Book 1.5) (4 page)

After breakfast and a day of being the center of attention, Marco lay on his bed listening to the radio. His room was still a mess, but he didn’t feel like getting up to clean it. He was thinking about the best way to wrap up the situation with Pain without getting in trouble with Rob and the others.

He couldn’t harm the girl, or they would throw him out
. Knocking her out should be easy enough,
he thought. That was how he had to end it. No broken bones.

He sighed, disappointed, and got up. Rob would be in the training hall watching, no doubt, so Marco had to get there first. That way he would get a chance to fight her with no interruptions. He didn’t even doubt that she would already be there, waiting for him to show up. Well, he was going to deliver.

He took the elevator down, as the stupid rules said, and threw open the training hall doors. Little Bitch was there, of course, practicing with her sister. Marco strode in, crossing the hall toward her, not wanting to waste a single minute before Rob or Skull arrived. When she noticed him, she stopped practicing and motioned for her sister to step back. All the others were staring at Marco now, and for some reason he wished they were alone.

“You wanted to see me? I’m here,” he said intently as he stopped in front of her.

Without a word, she unbuckled her scabbard and put the sword on a bench. He noticed that it was a huge O-Katana: an unusual choice for a girl her size. Her sister grabbed her arm, muttering something, but Pain shook her off. Marco went over the plan in his head again. Her only advantage was speed, and that he should be able to change with a couple of dislocations. It wouldn’t be a long fight.

She gave him that wry smile again as she stood before him.

“You must be really brave, coming here like this,” she noted.

That was it, enough trash talk.

With a deafening roar, he lunged for her, but she jumped upward, hitting him from above. He barely felt the blow, grabbing her legs and bringing her down with a satisfying thud; but the next second she slipped from his grasp and flew upward again. Before he could react, she attacked, her feet connecting with his body again and again until he had to back off. He realized that he had misjudged her. It wasn’t just her speed: she was freakishly strong for a girl!

He snarled, leaping after her and catching her arm. Instead of trying to pull out of his grasp, she lunged at him, and he was surprised to learn that her left fist felt just the same as the right one. Marco cursed, trying to shake her off, but now she was clinging to him like a vine, and he had to slam back into a wall to get rid of her. She dropped to the floor and stared at him viciously, while he used the opportunity to take a breath.

He could see the other fighters watching them with excitement, but he tuned out their voices and charged at her again. She jumped out of reach at the last moment, but he had expected that. He dodged to the left and brought her down again. This time he wasn’t going to hold back. He punched her in the stomach and swung his fist for another blow, but she hit him in the jaw with enough force to make his vision rain stars. She was on her feet again, and Marco was beginning to lose patience. Breaking bones was back in the game, but he had to remind himself that he couldn’t kill the girl. He didn’t want the whole of Headquarters on his tail.

He circled her slowly, pulling the stolen knife from his belt.

“Spice it up a lil’ bit?” he suggested, giving her a serious look, and she showed her teeth.

“With pleasure,” she purred, taking a knife twice the size of Marco’s from underneath her jacket.

Marco blinked. Surely that couldn’t be a good weapon for those tiny hands! What the hell was wrong with this girl??

She attacked first, slashing at his arm in the next second, wielding the knife as if it were a plastic hairbrush. He hit back, and for a few minutes the fight was pretty balanced, until she began to use all sorts of tricks to get to his neck. Marco growled. He had to end this before Rob or the others showed up, and she didn’t even seem tired. He had managed to punch her in the face once, and her eyebrow was split and bloody, but it obviously wasn’t going to be enough. He had to knock her out.

He lunged forward, and when she stepped left, he stepped right. Only he didn’t expect her to be ready for this, and as he continued to move right, she pushed him, adding momentum, and was suddenly behind him. Her hand grabbed his chin even as he realized his mistake, and he already knew what would happen next. In one move, she was sitting on his shoulders with the knife pressed to his neck from behind.

“Gotcha,” she muttered in his ear, and Marco froze.

He stood there, in the middle of the training hall, and for the first time had no idea what to expect. If they’d been somewhere on their own, he didn’t doubt that she would at least wound him. But here? Among all these people? He didn’t think so. Even crazy people didn’t like witnesses when they killed someone. He ought to know: he was one of them.

“How does it feel, losing to a girl?” she murmured from behind.

He snorted. Her hair tickled his face, and he ached to grab a handful of it and tear it out.

“I think I’ll take this so you don’t accidentally cut yourself,” she said, reaching down and plucking the knife out of his hand. He didn’t see any point in resisting. “I’m not going to spend another minute on you, moron. If I see you here tomorrow, you’re dead.”

With that, she released hold of him and dropped to the floor.

Marco took a deep breath, and then another one. The girls left the room, and some of the other fighters followed, patting Little Bitch on the shoulder and even congratulating her. A few hours ago they were cheering as he had her up against the wall, and now they were all on her side??
Bullshit
. He wasn’t scared of her, and he certainly wasn’t going to leave. His next step,
that
was the problem. He had to expose her, but how?

The door opened again, to reveal Rob standing in the doorway. He took in Marco’s strange stance in the middle of the room and saw his expression before Marco could compose himself.

“What happened?” the big fighter boomed in a menacing tone, suspicion reflected in his moves as he headed slowly to Marco.

“Nothing,” Marco snapped, brushing past him to the door before Rob tried to make him stay. “Nothing happened.”

Marco sat in the waiting room, tapping his foot nervously. Skull was on watch, sitting at his desk and staring at Marco without blinking, like a dead man. Marco shot him glances every now and then to see if the giant had moved. But no: two black eyes, one pale scar, one bald head, all in the same place.
What a creep,
Marco complained mentally.

Less than an hour had passed since Marco had left the training hall. He had showered quickly and dressed in a sweatsuit, so that all his cuts were covered. It was in the shower that he had got the idea. It was awfully silly and absolutely beautiful in its simplicity, and all of a sudden the fact that people had seen his humiliation was an advantage. By tomorrow everybody would know about the fight, and this new plan meant he wouldn’t really need to do anything to get even deeper under her skin. The others would help him. He chuckled to himself, and then realized that he had done it out loud and glanced over at Skull in alarm – still staring.
Sigh
.

Finally, the office door swung open, and a tall man in a leather vest and gear bottoms came out of it. This one had burn marks and one eye, outdoing even Skull. Marco whistled, the sound barely audible as the man left swiftly without a glance in his direction.

“Come in,” Peter said, waving to him from the office, “You wanted to ask something?”

“Yes,” Marco nodded, casting his eyes around curiously.

The office was too white and too empty. The big conference table took up some of the space, and that was it. It was like an apartment that no one lived in, without a touch of personality to it. It indicated to Marco what kind of man worked in here. He guessed that Michael was an ascetic, which supported his image of the man so far. The man himself, however, was nowhere to be seen, and he guessed that Peter took his place when the boss was somewhere on a business trip.

“I need to go out today,” Marco said quickly because Peter was obviously in a hurry, stacking papers and cleaning up the table before he left. He paused now, though, and turned to look at Marco.

“I thought you agreed with our terms,” he said, taking a watchful stance with his arms folded on the barrel of his chest.

“Yes, I… I know. I just really need it. Just this once. It’s personal…I can’t tell you. Send someone with me. It’s a quick trip, but it’s important…” Marco was babbling, and he paused and cleared his throat. He braced himself and then did something he had never done before, but he had seen the kids here do it, and it usually worked. “Please?..”

Peter’s eyebrows rose, and suddenly he looked like he was holding back a smile, only Marco didn’t know why. The older man stared at him, weighing him up as if he were trying to see right into his soul. An incredibly tense minute passed before he sighed and picked up his suit jacket.

“Come on.” He took Marco by the elbow and opened the door. “Skull, go with Marco, take the car…” he tossed the keys to the giant “…get Rob to cover for you for a few hours.”

Skull only nodded and picked up the phone, while Peter paused at the door, turned, and gave Marco a hard look. “Behave yourself. Or he will kill you real quick.”

He patted Marco on the shoulder and flashed an angelic smile, so uncharacteristic for a man his age. Then he left the room and closed the door, ignoring Marco’s wide-eyed expression.

They took a black SUV and drove to the address that Marco had given Skull. The only time they spoke was when they were waiting for a green light, and Skull suddenly turned and stared at Marco with his impassive black eyes.

“If you’re planning to run off, this is your chance,” he rumbled, his deep, slightly accented voice resonating off the car’s interior. He lazily reached out and opened the door for Marco.

Lips twitching against his will, Marco held back his smile. He waited a moment, giving Skull an ironic look before he took the handle delicately and closed the door.

“No, thank you,” he said carefully, “If I wanted to run, I could do it anytime right from my window.”

“No, you couldn’t,” Skull objected calmly and started the car, frowning.

“Yes, I could,” Marco pressed.

“You wouldn’t get past the perimeter.”

“That crazy girl gets out every night just fine,” Marco replied, shaking his head with an innocent expression, and Skull actually looked surprised.

“Who…Pain? How do you know?” he boomed.

“She was there when they found me. I heard her,” Marco shrugged.

“Huh,” was all the response he got, and they fell silent again.

They pulled up not far from a shop on a deserted, sunlit street, and Marco got out of the car. Skull followed him without a word, and when Marco walked inside, Skull stayed by the door. The shop owner perked up at the sight of Marco and greeted him loudly, but Marco shook his head once and the man’s “Hey, Ma…” was left hanging in the air, unfinished.

There were only a couple of other people inside – teenagers chatting between the racks – but Marco hurried past them to the back wall where there was a rack of clothes for sale. He hoped the thing he’d seen a month ago was still there.

Skull watched him from the doors, his seven-foot bulk looming over the room. He stood out like a sore thumb among all the Rasta colors, and the owner glanced worriedly between him and Marco.

Without wasting another moment, Marco dug among the clothes. To his surprise, nothing had changed, and the thing was still there.
Must be too big for the kids,
he thought idly, pulling it out with a satisfied smile on his face. He turned to leave, then paused. While he was here, he might as well buy some more clothes that actually had colors in them. His black and white wardrobe back at the Headquarters was boring as hell. Quickly, he picked a few Tshirts with funny captions, not wasting time on sizes but simply taking the biggest ones.

The owner kept his cool when Marco came over to pay for the clothes. He dug out three credit cards and dropped them on the counter.

“Try this one,” Marco said, handing him the one he was sure still had some money on it. The man ran the Visa through the machine, then pursed his lips with a shake of his head.

“Sorry, pal,” he returned the card, and Marco gave him another one. That one was empty, too, but to Marco’s relief there was a small amount available on the third one. He packed his things and turned to leave…and bumped right into Skull’s huge frame.

“You made me take you out because you wanted to go
shopping
?” the giant rumbled, and Marco made an effort to relax.

“Well… A man’s gotta dress!” He patted Skull’s shoulder cheerfully, fighting the urge to drop the bags and run out the back before it was too late. “You might wanna pick up some stuff, too! You could… tear up a shirt or two here…” he finished uncertainly, trying to imagine Skull in a Bob Marley T-shirt. He’d thought the giant would look less scary like that, but the mental picture was even more disturbing.

Skull didn’t seem to appreciate the humor. He shoved Marco out the door before he could protest and pushed him toward the car.

“Did you steal those credit cards?” he asked all of a sudden, and this made Marco stop and spin on his heels.

“What?? No!” he exclaimed, appalled, “I’m not a thief!”

The giant stopped, too, and gave Marco a long, ironic look.

“You stole my knife from the car,” he stated.

Marco swallowed. Without another word, Skull held out his hand. Slowly, Marco reached behind his back and took out the knife. He placed it into the giant’s palm and stepped back.

“But the cards are mine!” he stabbed his finger at Skull accusingly.

The fighter nodded, as if thinking
Yeah, right,
and pushed him toward the SUV again.

“Wait, I forgot something,” Marco said, trying to brush past him back to the shop. Skull blocked his way, and Marco growled irritably, pushing him in the chest, “I need to pee, okay??”

“Then I’m going with you,” Skull replied, unperturbed.

“What??” Marco squealed, “No! That’s just… creepy! Wait for me here!”

He hurried back toward the door, but was suddenly pulled backward by something that felt like a tow truck grabbing his belt. Silently, Skull dragged him to the car, opened the door, and manhandled him into the back seat as easily as he would a child, rather than a six-two, 210-pound man.

Moments later, they were speeding up the street, and the way Skull glanced at Marco in the rearview mirror told him not to open his mouth again. All he could do was sit and sulk in the back seat, shooting him angry glances, so that’s what he did for the rest of the trip.