Read A Slither of Hope Online

Authors: Lisa M. Basso

Tags: #teen romance, #Science Fiction And Fantasy, #Young Adult, #Angels, #demons, #death and dying, #Romance, #Paranormal, #Fantasy

A Slither of Hope (14 page)

“Yes, now.” I left no leniency in my own voice, none of the doubt I usually carried with me everywhere. “This is my life and it's my choice. Staying in San Francisco will get us answers. Leaving won't.”

I forced my arms through Kade's jacket sleeves, which I'd been wearing over my shoulders up until now, and stomped toward Cam. “Mud. It had to be mud,” I mumbled to myself and wrapped my arms around the angel, hugging him close enough to whisper up into his ear. “Someone was here watching and since Kade didn't sense him, I'm guessing he's one of yours. Be careful. Okay?” I wiped my thumb over his cheek to clear off a path of mud before I kissed it, leaving a show for whoever was up in the trees. Making them believe my loyalty, and my heart, belonged to him.

Steam was practically shooting out of Kade's muddied ears when I turned around, but there was nothing I could do about that until we got out of earshot and I could tell him what I saw.
If
I told him what I saw. “Let's get out here,” I said, looking his almost completely mud-covered self up and down. “And I call the first shower.”

Chapter Seventeen

 

Kade

 

She should've let me murder that ungrateful pest of an angel. I ran a towel through my hair for the second time and it still came away muddy. “The next time I see that son of a leech, I'm snapping his neck on principle.”

“Whatever you say, Kade,” came Rayna's muffled call from the bedroom.

I wiped the steam from the mirror for the fifth time before giving up and opening the door.

“Clothes. Clothes are good.” She used the side of her hand to shield her eyes, but even from this angle I spied the rosy blush brightening her cheeks.

“Clothes I have. Towels. Now there's the problem.” I strutted past the bed with my towel slung low on my hips.

She squealed and buried her nose in a book—the same book she toted around with her everywhere, creased and worn with ripped binding. She had over a dozen books, yet she kept reading the one with the girl and the beach on the cover over and over again.

While her face was stuck in that book, I stripped off my towel and hiked on a pair of jeans. Underwear was for the modest. “I have to leave.”

She peeked her little pink face up from the pages. “Now? But we just got back.” To her credit, she actually sounded disappointed.

“And there are Fallen swarming the city, saddened and confused by the loss they've experienced tonight, looking for answers.”

Her eyes lingered on my abs. She drew her gaze up to my chest. In particular, to the scar over my heart.

“Besides, if they get close enough to here they'll be able to feel me. If I stay, that means they'll find you, too.” And I wouldn't let that happen. Against everything smart in this thick skull of mine, I knew I had to go return to the Fallen Anonymous meeting. “I'll be back when I can, but it might be a while.”

She plopped the book into her lap and crossed her arms. I could almost smell the argument coming. I tugged a t-shirt over my head and sighed. If her yelling at me made her feel better, then so be it.

“After everything that happened tonight, I…just can't believe you're leaving.”

“Believe it, princess.” I sat on the edge of the bed to slip on socks and lace up my boots. Thought about saying more, but my big mouth had gotten me into more trouble than I could count. To her credit, Ray didn't add anything either. “Call me if anything comes up.”

“Yeah.” Her voice broke. She cleared her throat.

I didn't look back, just tugged on my muddy jacket—thanks to Ray hugging that angel leech in it—and walked out the door.

 

***

 

Finding my way back to my Fallen brethren was easier than I thought it would be. Taking the first step down into that church basement across town was harder. But I had to do it. For her.

“I heard there were some—” The three Fallen that I looked in on before were present at tonight’s meeting, minus the one that caught me lurking outside. Probably because I'd killed him a few hours ago. Seeing that surprised look on his face when I stepped in front of Ray and attacked him… I hadn't expected to feel anything. Snapping his neck felt a lot like tying a noose around my own. He had opened his safe place up to me and I had spit on it, then killed him. But that wasn't what stopped me dead at the entryway. That was all Sorath, a fellow Fallen Warrior who fought alongside me for decades when we were still white-winged. My call to him must have brought him here.

“Kasade. It's been too long.” He reached his arms out to me.

“Or not long enough.” I stood my ground, crooking up a tense half-smile.

“Welcome.” One of the other nameless Fallen stood, offering me his chair.

I never took my eyes off Sorath. His deeply tanned skin fit in from Southeast Asia to the lowest regions of Africa, and the body builder physique he kept up for the intimidation factor hadn't deflated since I last saw him. He still displayed the triple sixes inked into his bicep no matter the weather, showing his pride at being recruited by Lucifer's right hand, Beelzebub. That was, of course, before Bub was slaughtered by an ancient group of angels. Which began a whole new peace on Earth. A peace that had since been shattered.

“Nearly twenty years pass and you haven't aged a day. Tell me, how is that when you refuse to join the ranks of power in the nine circles?” Sorath prodded.

My silence spoke for me. After twenty years you'd think the guy would get some new material. His familiar pitch didn't bother me though. As long as he kept saying all the same things, temptation to join a brotherhood again wouldn’t be an issue. But being encircled by this group, particularly being near Sorath, a brother I remember dearly, was draining my will.

The drive to be surrounded by them, the need to belong, swelled around me, the Fallen curse roaring stronger than anything I’d ever felt before. I gripped the doorway, both for support and focus.

“I take that back,” Sorath gloated. “You don't look so good after all.”

It was no coincidence he was the one standing in front of me. The last time we saw each other was only days after I Fell. He’d tried to coax me into Hell. Back then I'd been too filled with rage and anger to care about trivial things such as Hell or Earth. It didn't make a difference to me where I suffered. The thing that kept me here was Kay.

Keep your head in the game.
I thought about Rayna, a blush on her pale cheeks, with her nose buried in that mangled book, peering up at me like I hung the moon—or my abs did. It was a good enough memory. For now.

I peeled my fingers up, one at a time, from the door molding. Two steps inside—that was all I could manage. I concealed the shame at my own weakness around so many of my own kind. Suppression was key.

“Still fighting us, I see. No matter. Soon”—Sorath tipped his chin—“the fight will run out of you.”

“Doubtful.” I pulled it together, popped my jaw, and relaxed my lips into a smirk.

“You'll change your tune. Soon.” Sorath jerked forward so fast I almost missed it, his massive arms caging me in.

Ropes of suffocation coiled around my entire body. My cursed heart stuttered. I closed my eyes, concentrated on breathing. When I regained my strength, I shoved Sorath back. He didn't so much as stumble. His massive hand remained curled around my shoulder.

Focusing on something positive was what I needed. Zen unwinding the tiny muscles in Ray's face when she worked in the rooftop garden I built for her. The scent my soap left on her body, vastly different from the way it smelled on me. The feel of her in my arms. Her looking up at me that night on the roof, expecting me to kiss her, wanting it. Reopening my eyes, I used the emotion flowing into me from that broken moment to make me stronger.

Sorath tapped his hand down on my shoulder again. “Then why have you come?”

I straightened and jutted out my jaw. “I had to. I've been hearing rumors. Every few decades someone gets bored and twists a new tale, but a gray-winged female with great power, that one's new.”

“It's good this has brought you back. The rumors are true.”

I played just enough shock through my face to make it count. “True? How can that be?”

“Not just true. The rumors don't do her justice. She slaughtered a member of this coven tonight.”

With slit eyes, I added, “Gray wings. And enough strength to take out a Fallen. I'm not buying it. What is she?”

“From their accounts”—Sorath spread his yoked arms wide—“she isn't much more than a girl.”

“You three couldn't take out a girl?” A twinge of guilt ran through me, but I had to make this performance believable or instead of this visit helping, I might be putting Ray in even more danger.

“She must have been strong to take out Procel,” the one who offered up his seat clarified.

Procel. Now I knew the name of the one I killed. The one that had welcomed me with open arms outside only a few nights ago.

“She was fast, too. Dispatched him and ran,” the second added.

“We didn't even feel her.” The third rounded out the chorus.

“What else do we know about her?” I moved farther into the room, needing control now more than ever.

“Her appearance has brought a new time upon us. We will need everybody we can get.” Sorath looked to me again, expectantly.

Not happening, buddy.
But the sheer force of their prodding, the allure of their closeness, boiled my blood more than any feeding could have. The new dryness in my throat couldn’t be sated by the souls of humans. Only bonding with this coven—
my
coven—could ease the grip of barbed wire from around my cursed heart.

A sense of loyalty and true family imbedded itself so deep into me it wrapped around my ankles and held me. A small tremor of fear rippled through me, muted by the belonging swelling in my chest. I didn’t know how I’d ever get away from them now.

Chapter Eighteen

 

Rayna

 

“Again.” I wiped the steady stream of blood from the corner of my lip and straightened up. My side protested. I tucked my arm in tight to my body for support and stood my ground. When Kade didn't charge, I raised my voice. “I said again!”

His chin tipped up. It was the only movement he made.

“I can do this. Come. At. Me.
Again
.”

“We're done for today.”

“Kade—”

“Do you think this is my idea of a good time?”

“When one of them finds me, whether it's a Fallen or Elyon, do you think they'll stop when I get winded or start bleeding? Or do you think they'll come at me until I'm dead? Or worse?”

He shook his head, his lips drawing into a thin line. “No.”

“You don't have a choice.” It wasn’t like he was pummeling me to a pulp. All he was doing was throwing me around with a little more force than he'd used before. I was the one that ran into the corner of the planter box and split my lip while trying to scramble up too fast. “I've barely seen you for the last two days. You've got me cooped up inside with nothing to do but read and clean. You won't let me leave the apartment, and when you finally do come back you won't even hit me.”

“Most girls would find that appealing in a guy.”

“I'm not most girls. Now hit me.” When he didn't move, I lunged at him, anticipating for him to sidestep, already adjusting for it. So when he didn't I went down like a sack of manure.

Kade kneeled down beside me. “Here's a tip, never charge in if you don't have to. And never assume that because you know a target, you know how he moves. No one knows anyone that well. Got it?” He held out his hand.

“Got it.” I took his hand and let him pull me to my feet. Fatigue knocked around in my bones, so I didn't make any quick moves to get away. Besides, he obviously wasn't too keen on fighting right now, which, any other day, would be a godsend, but tonight it was just annoying.

I looked up at him. His face was healing quickly after his tousle with Cam in Muir Woods. He'd walked away with a good-sized bruise on his cheek and a cut lip, but now everything was almost the same color. Even the hickey he was sporting was just about gone.

I turned away, not liking the direction my thoughts had taken.

“What's wrong?” he asked matter-of-factly, minus the kind of concern a human would have added had the roles been reversed.

“Your face healed up nicely. Got rid of that hickey too.”

This stunted him. I watched his head start to shake. “The hickey, that—”

“Is none of my business.” I brushed off my jeans and the elbow of my jacket.

“You don't understand. That night, I meant every word I said up here. Every one.”

I peered over at him, trying to make it look like I couldn't care less. But my heart pounded and even the soles of my feet were sweating.

“The thing with the hickey was an accident. I went to feed that night and Shelly, she got out of hand—”

“Shelly? Roxy's Diner Shelly?” The girl I shadowed when I worked at Roxy's Diner last month. The girl who'd given me advice and treated me so much like a human being that I almost called her a friend. Of course it was the same Shelly. She'd been all over Kade at the diner. And of course he'd choose the one girl in San Francisco that I knew and almost liked. “That's great, Kade. I could've gone the rest of my life without that mental picture.” I wrapped my arms around my waist, the awkwardness spreading over both of us as if it were raining from the sky. “Let me guess, you were just leaving, right?”

“Right.”

He dove off the roof and I went downstairs to take a long, hot shower.

Shelly. I shouldn't have been surprised. Hell, I should have been expecting something like this. Kade was the wrong kind of guy for me. Who was I kidding? I was wanted by angel and Fallen alike, and that wasn’t even counting the detective investigating the murders at my former high school or the operators of the SS Crazy. Anyone was the wrong kind of guy for me and I was nuts for thinking differently. That didn't change the fact that when my phone rang an hour later, part of me hoped it was Kade.

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