Dark Wings (Never Dark Book 1) (14 page)

Passion

Violet

I walked rapidly from the teleportation chambers at the Never Dark headquarters. Angrily, I pulled random l
eaves and bits of stick from my hair. People stared at me. The usual. I was a mess, dirt covered my uniform and whatever exposed flesh I had. I stormed right through the lobby and out into the street. I followed the road until I came to an apartment complex similar to mine. It was late and although I knew where Jenga lived, I had no idea what number her apartment was, and strangely, the chart by the buttons didn’t have any names.

I tried my luck on apartment seven. It was my favorite number
, after all. I waited a few minutes and pressed it again. And again. And again until a gruff, tired voice answered.

“Hello?”
the man’s voice asked.

“Yeah, hello. Is this Jenga’s apartment?”

No answer came and then the line disconnected. What an asshole. I pressed number nine and another tired male voice answered. “Yeah?”
Great
.

“Is this Jenga’s apartment?”
I asked quite rudely.

A scuffle came through
the speaker and I pulled away because the distorting noises hurt my ears.

“Violet? Violet
, is that you?” Jenga’s breathless voice asked.

Awkward
. “Um, yeah. I can come back later…”

“No, no. Please, come up.”

An annoying buzzing noise ran in front of me as the steel gate clicked open. I was still worked up with some kind of angry energy and I needed to burn it off, so I decided to run up the stairs to room nine. As I passed number seven, I kicked the door repeatedly and then continued up the stairs to Jenga’s apartment. Below me, number seven’s door opened and he began yelling a bunch of swear words, promising my death. I smiled. That was pretty fun.

Jenga opened her door before I got the chance to knock. She was wearing a
men’s gray t-shirt, which looked more like a comfortable nighty on her. Her black hair was a mess with half of it still in a ponytail, the other half sprawled over one shoulder. Jenga’s usually flawless makeup was smeared slightly around her eyes and the lipstick I didn’t even know she wore was smudged outside her lips. She stared at me with equal wonderment and I realized I probably looked as wild as she did. Without saying a word, she stepped aside and let me in. Her apartment was nice—nicer than mine, anyway. Her walls were a deep red, as opposed to my boring cream colored ones. The skirting was wooden, giving the place a real classic, royal feel. She ran across the floor, closing what I assumed was her bedroom door, and then returned to me. I stood before the kitchen and surveyed the rest of the house. Dark chocolate, shaggy rugs were placed strategically throughout the living room, giving me a strange urge to lie on them and never leave. Jenga pulled a bottle of Vodka and two shot glasses from her cupboard. She sat them at the breakfast bar and gestured for me to sit. Despite the hard wooden look of the stool, it was really comfy. Beside me sat a strange figurine of a red and yellow robot.

“Iron Man
,” Jenga said, bringing my attention back to her.

“Huh?”

“It’s an Iron Man collectible.”

“Oh… I have no idea what an Iron Man is.”

She gaped at me like I was an idiot, and truthfully, I felt like one. “Well, we’ll have to change that one day. I’ve got loads of collectibles. They remind me of my human life. I ran a comic book store in Clover.”

I grabbed my shot as she finished pouring it and downed it. My throat burned and my eyes watered. I hated Vodka
, but it was strong, and strong was exactly what I needed right now. Jenga downed her shot like it was water.

“I’ve never really been into anything except reading, I guess
,” I replied meekly.

“Yeah, well, fun things aren’t for everyone.” Her lips tilted into a full blown smile and I stuck my tongue out.

“Very funny.”

She poured us another shot each. “You look like shit
. Tell me what happened.”

I slammed back the Vodka
and cringed. “Lucas happened.”

“What? I thought you were hunting Trackers?”

“I was, but then he showed up with his split personality and scared them off.
And
threw a
fucking tree
at me!”

Jenga exploded into a fit of laughter. Apparently it was
so hilarious that she had to keel over and clench her stomach. I glared at her.

“I’m sorry,” she gasped. “I wasn’t expecting that. That’s probably the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.” She leaned across the bar and freed a small stick from my hair.
“Why’d he throw a tree at you?”

I pursed my lips and the bottom one
stung, I must have cut it.

“I promise I won’t laugh
,” Jenga said, already trying to suppress a giggle.

I told Jenga the whole story from start to finish and she made sure to laugh at every unnecessary moment.
Bitch
. By the end of it, I was laughing my ass off, too. Strange, Vodka usually made me tired, not happy.

“Wow, is Miss Violet enjoying herself for the first time in her life?” Jenga called, turning on her stereo and blasting music I hadn’t heard in a very long time. She really didn’t strike me as a T-pain fan, but apparently she was. “You’re like the grumpy cat.”

There was another reference to something I was supposed to know. I didn’t question it. It obviously wasn’t a positive thing.

“I can have fun!” I shouted, almost falling off my bar stool.
The mystery man that answered the intercom wandered half naked from Jenga’s bedroom. I’d forgotten he was even here. Man, he had a body on him. The whole front of his torso was muscle on top of muscle. He wasn’t very tall and that made me want to laugh, but I bit my lip and fought it. His slacks hung loosely off his hips and every few steps he took he had to pull them up.

“Can’t sleep, baby?” Jenga giggled, turning the music up slightly.

The man she referred to as baby poured himself a shot, drank it, and then poured me one.

“Thanks…” I managed to drag my eyes from his chest to his face. He was a handsome guy, I suppose. I mean
, there were things that made him look really young, like the dimples, the big blue eyes, and absent facial hair. I wasn’t really into boy-looking men. I looked at Jenga, who eyed him hungrily. Good for her, I’m glad one of us was getting some kind of sexual action.

“
I’m going to go back to my apartment. I have to go to Earth in the morning.” He walked over and kissed Jenga on the lips and squeezed her bum. I focused my attention on the gothic-like paintings on her wall as they whispered dirty things to each other. One painting in particular caught my eye. It was a picture of a skeleton in a beautiful blue nineteenth century dress. Her long dark hair blew in the wind behind her. She was standing at the top of a mountain beside a grand Victorian manor overlooking a cracked, deserted road. There were no trees in the picture. Instead, the ground and the sky were painted in a weird red hue.

“Do you like it?”
she asked, forcing my attention back to her.

“I don’t know… It’s kind of depressing.”

She laughed, handing me another shot. I looked around the room and her boy was gone. “That was George, by the way.”

“He seems nice.”

Jenga arched an eyebrow at me. “You never have anything nice to say, so tell me what you really think.”

I feigned insult
. “I have nothing bad to say about Ge—okay, he’s a little on the short side, isn’t he?”

“Yes
, and I like it like that. I don’t have to stand on my tippy toes, I can wear his pants without worrying about the bottoms being trapped under my feet,
and
I’m not eating chest hair when we have sex because he is the perfect height. It’s face to face, you know what I mean?”

Jenga swayed slightly on her feet. Sh
e was a lot drunker than I was.

“Good for you. I’m glad you’re happy.”

Seeing Jenga and George all cute and stuff made me want that, but I couldn’t as long as I kept running into Lucas. How could I move on if he was hiding behind every corner waiting for me? He was clearly unstable. He wanted to protect me one minute and kill me the next. I didn’t want to see Lucas again, not after tonight. It didn’t take a psychologist to know that our relationship wasn’t healthy.

“
Do you think I can do it?” I asked.

Jenga made her way over to the fridge.
She pulled out two beers and handed me one. I wasn’t going to mix my alcohol, but I grabbed it anyway to be polite.

“Oh honey, no. I’m not into sharing partners…”

I stared at her wide-eyed. “That’s not what I—”

She laughed loudly
, cutting my words off. “I know I’m just playing with you. Yes, I do think you can do it. Whatever ‘
it
’ is…”

“Do you think I can kill one of the
Horsemen?”

“Oh hell yeah, you’re badass. You’ve killed ninety-nine demons. That’s
some pretty amazing stuff.” She took a large mouthful of beer and swallowed. “What made you change your mind? You seemed pretty adamant this morning.”

“I think it was seeing Lucas again. He was so set on k
illing me. I like Earth and I don’t want to see it destroyed. If I can get Lucas off Earth, then I won’t have to watch my back all of the time. If I want to feel safe, one of them has to die. It can’t be Lucas. I can’t bring myself to hurt him and War is way too big and strong. Conquest has this creepy bow made out of bone. He’d kill me before I even saw him coming, and Famine… I’ve killed Famine before, but it wasn’t the right way.”

“Famine
’s your guy, then. If you’ve killed him before, then he’s probably the weakest link.”

I nodded, twirling the beer bottle on the counter. Suddenly I felt nauseous. Lucas wanted to keep me away from his brothers and now
I was planning to hunt one down. What a wasted effort on his part.

“I should get going then, I want to sleep of
f this alcohol if I’m going to hunt a Horseman in the morning.”

I slid off the stool and shakily supported my weight on my two feet.

“You’re not walking home in your condition.”

Jenga sat her beer down on the kitchen counter and stumbled over to her couch. She bent over, expo
sing her leopard print thong, making me glance awkwardly everywhere else. She tugged on the sofa. The cushions flew off and the couch transformed into a bed. Without another word from Jenga, I threw myself onto the wide mattress. It was so… uncomfortable compared to my bed at home. “What, did you fill this with bricks or something? Jesus.” I groaned, rolling onto my back.

Jenga shrugged. “You can share with me if you want, but know that I like to be the big spoon.”

The thought of Jenga spooning me made me arch an eyebrow at her. “No, this will do.”

Jenga joined me on the sofa bed. Her head rested on my pillow and I spoke. “Before I sleep, can I tell you something?”

“I’m not into girls. There was this one time I made out with a girl in high school, but I didn’t like it.”

“No.”
I shoved her hard in the shoulder. “You’re not my type anyway.”

She leaned her head against mine and I wanted to move away, but I didn’t want to offend her.

“I wanted to let you know that… I came here tonight because I realized you are the closest thing I have to a friend… and I want to be friends with you.”

She rolled onto her side, her eyes wide with excitement. “I knew it!” She squealed. “I knew you wanted to be my friend! I don’t even care how lame we sound, but I’ve always seen you as my friend. I was just waiting for you to realize it and now you’re sleeping on my sofa bed. I’d say today was a productive day for me.”

Jenga and I joked and laughed for a little while longer. Eventually, sleep took me and I was immersed in dreams of his dark hair and brown eyes.

*
**

Well, Jenga wasn’t lying when she said she preferred being the big spoon. A headache thrummed away in the back of my head, right underneath Jenga’s chin. Her long arms wrapped around my waist and she held me tightly, like a vice grip. I frowned.
How the hell am I going to get out of this?
I pried her fingers off my body and began to slip out. All it took was one movement and her eyes flew open. She took one look at my freaked out expression and laughed. “Man, sorry.” She stretched her arms above her head and yawned. “I must have fallen asleep.”

“Sleeping with you
is like sleeping with a boa-constrictor, you know that, right?”

“Ouch. Do you always treat the women you sleep with, with a
treat ‘em mean keep em’ keen
attitude? Because it’s working.” She slid out of the bed and ran her fingers through her dark hair before walking toward the kitchen. “What do you want for breakfast?” She stopped and faced me. “Friend.”