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Authors: Blaise Lucey

BOOK: Blest
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14

Jim followed Claire as she burst out of the doorway, sprinting back to the gym. “Stop!” she hissed, whirling around just as they were about to go inside. “We can’t be seen together, remember?”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Right.” It was so easy to forget that they were supposed to hate each other. Claire wrenched open the door and disappeared into the throbbing chaos of the gym. Jim counted to ten before tearing through the door and plunging into the crowd.

A circle had formed at the back of the dance floor, where the demons were hanging out. Leo and Gunner stood in the middle. Gunner paced back and forth, his hands clenched into fists. For his part, Leo seemed to think the whole thing was a joke. Or maybe that Gunner was a joke.

“Take it back!” Gunner roared.

“I can’t take back the truth.” Leo chortled. “You were all right at the beginning of the year, man.” He jabbed his thumb at Shane, who was seething on the outskirts of the circle. “But now you’re just like the rest of them—boring, angry that you’re so boring, and trying to make the rest of us as angry and bored as you are.”

Gunner’s crimson wings flapped in broad strokes, and his arms strained against the fabric of his button-down shirt. Jim wondered what all the humans at the dance saw. Just two kids, going at it. He hadn’t really seen this side of Leo, but then he remembered when Leo had slapped the books out of his hands last year. Maybe it made sense.

No one was doing anything. They seemed to be captivated by the scene, like they were watching a movie. On the stage, the DJ was enraptured with his own music, playing a sticky electronica song that sounded like boots sloshing through mud.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll play some Cannibal Corpse or some other crappy metal band at some point,” Leo said. He gestured at the other demons. “Then all of you can come out of your little holes and make that constipated look that passes for a smile. Man, you guys are so
cool
!”

Gunner punched Leo in the stomach. Leo doubled over, huffing, but jumped back and quickly brought his fists up. The other kids scrambled out of the pair’s way, trying to push backward as the two circled each other.

Jim didn’t wait any longer. “Break it up, break it up!” he hollered, grabbing a few random kids by the arms. That seemed to wake everyone up. Jim burst into the middle of the circle with his new allies and grabbed Leo as Gunner lunged again. Gunner’s fist snapped against the air, missing Leo’s face by a few inches. He stumbled back, swearing at Leo like he was breathing fireballs. Claire was right. He had definitely changed.

Leo struggled for a second before pushing Jim away. “Okay, I’m good, man, I’m good.” He kept his eyes locked on Gunner. “Hey, Gunner! I challenge you, man. I challenge you to a Drop, if you even know what that is!”

Gunner’s eyes narrowed. Shane broke through the crowd, shoving a few students aside. “He’ll do it,” Shane hollered over the pounding music. “Tomorrow night. Downtown.”

“Ah, yeah!” Miles chattered beside Jim.

“What’s a Drop?” Jim asked, backing away, watching as the students filled in the circle and gradually filtered back to the dance floor like nothing had happened.

“Something you’re not ready for,” Sydney said, coming closer to him. “But it’ll definitely be fun to watch.”

The demons turned as one toward the back of the gym, melting into the shadows. Jim watched them leave. He tried to make eye contact with Claire, but she was staring at the floor. Gunner was the only one who looked back. And when he did, his eyes shot straight into Jim. Not Leo. Gunner’s face stayed expressionless as they stared at each other. For just a second, Jim thought he might have seen a flash of the Gunner he’d been those first few days, a kind, accepting, funny guy. Then Gunner seemed to startle out of the trance. His focus shifted to Leo, his face turned into an ugly sneer, and he backed up against the bleachers, where he huddled with the rest of the Scale in the darkness.

“Pleasant bunch.” Nora sighed.

“Jim,” Sydney said, sliding next to him, her arm brushing his. “Where were you? We couldn’t find you anywhere. That’s why we sent Leo over there, to go check if the demons had done something to you.” She sighed. “And then he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.”

“Oh,” Jim said, “Um . . . I was in the bathroom. I always, uh . . .”

“Have to pee when you get to a dance?” Miles suggested. “Come on, Sydney. Who cares? The point is we’ve got what we all wanted—a Drop. Hopefully we can take those idiots down a peg tomorrow. They’ve been walking around like they own the place since Gunner and what’s-her-face joined. But tonight, let’s dance!” He whooped eagerly and barreled into the crowd again, doing some mix of disco and The Robot while hopping up and down.

“He’s an embarrassment,” Nora said, but she was smiling.

“Ah, don’t be so harsh. Boys just want to have fun!” Leo exclaimed. He thundered back into the thick of the dance floor, and soon, he and Miles were both jumping up and down at the front of the stage, laughing and chest-bumping. Every so often, the lights caught their wings, making their pearl-white feathers sparkle.

Nora went off to join them after another minute. Jim was surprised to see her release her long red hair and start banging her head to some country song.

“Sometimes I don’t understand them,” Sydney said after a moment. “You’d think we didn’t just almost break the Pact.”

“Do you think that’s what was about to happen?” Jim asked.

Sydney shrugged and whipped her blond hair out of her face. “Anything’s possible. Miles is right about Shane getting more aggressive. I think that he’s a lot more confident now that he has Gunner. They seem like they were made for each other.”

Jim bit his tongue. He wanted to defend Gunner, to say that it was all a mistake. He still remembered how accepting Gunner had been, even after Shane had probably told him that Jim was a pathetic loser. But Gunner’s wings had changed him. No wonder Claire sounded so scared when she talked about him.

“It was really cool, the way you just went in and broke things up,” Sydney said, raising her voice as the country song broke out into a bunch of yodeling. She tapped her silver heels. “I guess I’m more like my mom than I thought. When the demons start provoking us, I can barely think straight. I just think about my dad, and the War of the Broken Wall, and I get so angry.”

Jim rubbed the back of his neck, trying again to catch a glimpse of the Scale in the shadow of the bleachers. “I wasn’t really thinking straight, either. I just didn’t want those two idiots to start pummeling each other in the gym.”

Sydney laughed. “That’s reasonable.” One of the roaming spotlights shifted onto her, making her white dress glitter. She looked mesmerizing, beautiful. Neither of them had mentioned their kiss by the lake since it happened—Jim had worried it would be awkward, but if anything, Sydney seemed more comfortable around him than before. And she hadn’t done anything to indicate that they were anything other than friends.

Sydney tugged at his wrist. “Hey,” she said softly. “Want to dance?”

Jim glanced over his shoulder, one more time. He did want to dance, but he wanted to dance with Claire. He wanted to dance with her all night. For a second, he wished he hadn’t even come out of the coach’s office.

“As friends,” Sydney said, giving him a light punch on the arm.

Jim couldn’t see Claire anywhere. “Sure,” he said, and Sydney’s green eyes lit up.

She led Jim through a maze of couples and groups of laughing freshmen, finally stopping at the front of the stage and twirling around to face him. Her blond hair twirled with her. Nora, Miles, and Leo appeared near them, laughing and yodeling in time with the song, and to his surprise, Jim joined in.

Then the country song ended, giving way to a slow dance—“Stairway to Heaven,” by Led Zeppelin. As couples started to pair off, Jim felt a momentary stab of panic.

“This used to be my dad’s favorite,” Sydney said. She pulled Jim toward her and fell into a sleepy step with him, rocking back and forth. He held his breath and put his hands stiffly around her waist, swaying with the music. Beside them, Nora was scolding Leo for stepping on her feet.

As the song drew out, Sydney rested her head against Jim’s chest. Her blond hair poured over her face like a waterfall of gold, strands of it rocking in their steady rhythm. She smelled nice, like vanilla and lavender, calm and relaxing. Neither of them said a word for the whole song as they rocked gently back and forth. Jim wondered what she was thinking. She didn’t like him, did she? She had been acting so normal lately . . . until now. He felt a tightness in his chest when he thought of their half-kiss under the willow. Sydney was the undisputed leader of the Feather, but sometimes she seemed so lonely.

“Stairway to Heaven” ended and there was a moment of silence, before another pounding hip-hop song broke out across the gym.

“Thank you,” Sydney said, pulling her arms down from around his neck.

“Yeah,” Jim said stiffly. He desperately searched the back of the gym where the demons had retreated, but they were already gone.

15

When Gunner and Claire roared into the driveway in the Range Rover, Claire saw her mom’s silhouette in the kitchen window. The figure paused for a second, looking down at them, and then bolted. As Claire got out of the car into the chilly night air, she heard the door to her mom’s bedroom slam, a distant echo from far away.

“Good,” Gunner growled. “She won’t get in the way of the party.”

Claire could practically feel Gunner’s rage burning beside her as he stalked up the wooden staircase leading to the kitchen. A few seconds later, the rest of the demons piled into the driveway. Shane’s Range Rover, then Julia’s Beamer, and finally Erik’s Escalade.

“Where’s Gunner?” Shane slammed the door to his car shut and strutted in her direction.

Claire shrugged. “He already went inside.”

Shane clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Awesome. I bet he’s preparing the”—his eyes glinted—“supplies.”

“Supplies?” Claire repeated. Most of the Scale paid her no attention, marching up the steps after Shane. Julia stayed outside but kept her distance, lighting a cigarette and taking a drag. Claire watched the smoke curling up toward the moon like a lazy dragon’s breath. She liked Julia more than the rest of the Scale, but couldn’t really figure her out.

“Did you see Sydney dancing with Jim Blest?” Julia asked, leaning against her car.

Claire almost choked. She had seen Jim and Sydney disappear into the crowd, but had they been dancing?

“Birds of a feather flock together, I guess,” Julia said, taking another puff on her cigarette. The little red flicker of the tip made her sharp, mousy features glow for a second, then fade back into the gloom. “I wouldn’t touch any of these dopes, though. Except maybe Gunner—he’s the hottest.” She glanced at Claire. “Sorry.”

Claire laughed uneasily. “It’s fine.”

Julia flicked her cigarette onto the driveway and stamped it out with her heel. She had dressed in black jeans and a slim, black shirt for the dance, so Claire barely even saw her until she was standing next to her. Julia looked past Claire, up into the kitchen where the Scale was rattling around in the cupboards and laughing.

“Gunner might get Shane syndrome, though. The rest of the Scale follows those two around like they’ve been ordained Scale leaders by the Slag High Council themselves,” Julia said. “Gunner’s been a demon, for what? A month?”

Claire nodded. “I’m not really sure how he . . .” She stopped, wondering if she could trust Julia. “I’m not sure how he adapted so well, but I guess it isn’t much different from moving to a new school and becoming friends with everyone in that group. We’ve both always been good at that.”

“Moving to a new school is the same as growing demon wings?” Julia asked, her eyebrow arcing in the pale orange light of the kitchen.

Claire laughed. “Not exactly the same, I guess. But you know what I mean.”

Julia nodded. “He’s a chameleon. Adapting to situations is a good thing. Unless you become a puppet for what people want you to be.”

A thin breeze slipped through the air. Claire shivered and rubbed her arms, looking out at the lake beyond the trees, remembering when she and Gunner had gone to the beach with Jim to grow their wings together. Was Gunner just becoming a puppet for the other demons?

“You’re not the only who feels lost, you know.” Julia’s hazel eyes reflected the silver moonlight.

Claire looked up sharply. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not blind, Claire. Shane and them, they might not see, but I know how you feel. Because I feel the same way.” Julia sighed. “You know that empty space in your heart, where you feel like just anything, one thing, should
mean
something? That’s where Glisten’s supposed to be.” Her voice turned hard. “Because a few of us had different ideas about the Field than the angels, we were banished from Glisten and almost all of our powers were taken. If we don’t suffer on the Field, we get banished to Slag. That’s why I’m part of the Scale and that’s why I follow them. To recover that part of me that’s waiting, somewhere in Glisten.”

Was that why she felt lost? Claire wondered. Or was it because of Jim? Her thoughts soured as Sydney came to mind. She wondered if Jim had really danced with her, and wished she could ask Julia more about it—but that would show that she cared, that she was weak. Claire bit her lip angrily. She felt like she might explode, trying to keep everything bottled up.

“I’m just telling you this so you can at least try and understand the rest of the Scale,” Julia said. “Just remember, it’s all so we can get back home, and be whole again.” She started walking toward the stairs but stopped and turned around. “Are you coming?”

Claire stared back at Julia. She realized she was still trying to resist liking any of the demons because of what they had said about Jim and because of what she had to think about angels if she was going to be one of them. But Julia had a point. Claire understood the feeling of loneliness, and looking for a home. Besides, Jim wasn’t exactly going out of his way not to be friends with angels.

“Yeah, sure,” she said, and followed Julia up the stairs. But when they tried to walk in the kitchen door, they were stopped by an already-drunk Ben.

“Claire bear!” he hollered joyously, his round face growing pink. “And Julia . . . uh . . . Julia—”

“Don’t you dare nickname me, Ben,” Julia said, shoving her way past him and taking Claire with her. “Try to pretend he doesn’t exist. You’re going to wish he didn’t every time he gets drunk.”

“We’ve got beers for you guys!” Ben called behind them, leaning against the kitchen counter and grabbing two cans. “Lots and lots of beers!”

Claire realized that the “supplies” Shane had been talking about were two twelve-packs. And two bottles of vodka.

“Where did you get all this?” she asked Gunner, who was leaning in the doorway and watching Shane, Maria, and Erik play a card game on the floor of the living room.

“Oh, some weird old dude bought them for me.” Gunner waved his hand dismissively. “I told him we needed stuff for a party and gave him some money. Easy.”

“Gunner’s the man!” Ben chortled, following them into the living room. His buzzed head looked like a shiny bird’s egg in the bright ceiling lights of the living room. One of the beers in his hands hissed as he cracked the can. He quickly chugged it, then crunched it in one of his huge hands and threw it at the wall.

“Ben!” Gunner snapped. He straightened, his hands clenched in fists. “What are you doing?’

Ben turned white. “Whoa, um . . .”

“I told you”—Gunner took a few steps closer to him—“to throw those at the bottom of the stairs.” Gunner’s face stayed blank for a few more seconds, then he burst out laughing. Ben chuckled uneasily. “Just wait,” Gunner said, grabbing Claire around the shoulders and gesturing at the stairs like he was pointing out some grand vista. “Just wait until Mom sees all the beer cans at the bottom of the stairs. That’ll show her who’s really in charge, huh? Huh?” He looked past her. “Ben, get my sister a drink.”

Before Claire could protest, a red plastic cup appeared in her hand. She looked down into the sloshing, clear liquid. It smelled like nail polish remover. Julia had settled onto the floor between Shane and Erik, crouching over the cards and arguing about the rules of some drinking game.

“The best things in life taste bad, that’s my motto,” Ben said, his tongue doing somersaults on each word. He leaned against the staircase with her as they watched the rest of the demons play card games, and hoisted the other beer in his hand.

“Yeah, I guess,” Claire said quickly. She’d never actually drank anything more than a few sips of beer. Usually she just liked to hold the cup as a conversational prop.

Ben snapped the second beer open and proceeded to chug. “Gunner really kicked that guy’s ass back there.” He belched.

“Who?”

“That idiot Leo. Who does he think he is, trying to pick a fight with Gunner?”

Claire rolled her eyes. She was used to a moderate amount of Gunner Worship from Gunner’s old friends, but this was a whole new level.

“No, really,” Ben said insistently. He raised his voice. “Shane, how badass was it, that showdown with Leo?”

Shane looked up. “Yeah. I just wish that something had actually
happened
. I can’t believe freaking
Jim Blest
broke it up, of all people. Being an angel made him a little more of a man, I guess.”

Claire’s heart fluttered. She remembered how he had dashed into the fight, shouting and pulling Leo away.

“Still,” Ben continued. “I wish Carlos had seen it. He would have liked that. And he would have seen what we’re up against.”

“Soon enough, man,” Shane said. He flipped a card. “Seven. What the hell is a seven?”

“It’s Never Have I Ever!” Maria squealed.

He snorted. “Right. Um . . .”

“Never have you ever benched over fifty pounds,” Gunner suggested.

Shane grinned. “Oh, screw you, man. You saw what—”

“Never has Mayor Morrisey ever been in an actual battle!” Ben exclaimed. He staggered across the living room toward the game. While the rest of the Scale looked from Shane to Ben in horror, Claire caught a smirk on Julia’s lips.

“What’d you say?” Shane asked sharply.

“Nothing!” Ben crowed, finishing his beer and tossing it onto the pile at the foot of the stairs. He tripped on his feet and slipped on the pile of cards, falling to the carpet with a thud. Miraculously, he kept his beer from spilling.

“Ben!” Erik shouted. “What the hell, you ruined Kings!”

“I have to go to the bathroom,” Claire muttered. She slipped out of the commotion and lightly sprinted up the stairs, her cup still in her hand. She reached the bathroom and closed the door, then dumped the vodka into the toilet and retreated to the mirror. She blinked at the girl reflected there, pale and tired-looking, with too much eye makeup caked on. Was that her real face? Her real eyes, staring back? What had happened to her?

She held herself on the edge of the sink, dipping closer to the mirror and staring fixedly on the crimson wings poking out of her back. Her eyes lingered on the single white feather.

Claire’s phone suddenly vibrated in her pocket. She leaned away from the mirror and read the text.
Check your window
. The unnamed number glowed on the screen. She hurried out of the bathroom and into her bedroom, closing the door behind her. Someone hovered outside the window—someone with white wings and blond hair, glistening in the moonlight.

“You shouldn’t have come!” she whispered, as she lifted the window.

”How could I resist?” Jim smiled, and her heart picked up speed.

“They’re all downstairs,” she said. “What if they catch you?”

“You’re worth it.” He ducked through the window and dropped silently to the carpet, bringing the cold autumn air with him.

They hugged each other tight. Claire could feel Jim’s heart beating just as fast as hers. She buried her face against his collared shirt and inhaled the warm, clean scent of him. An abrupt rush hour started in her mind, a thousand thoughts honking and swerving, trying to get her attention. She didn’t want to ask, but . . .

“Did you dance with Sydney tonight?” Claire murmured against Jim’s shirt.

He peeled away from her, tipping her chin up with his finger. “Sydney?” He saw her expression and laughed. “Yeah, we danced, but we’re just friends. You’re the only one I want.”

She nodded, relief flooding through her. Every time she was with the Scale, she felt anxious and on edge. It made her doubt things—herself, her feelings for Jim. When everyone else around you was so convinced that what they believed was true, you started to think it, too. Even if you knew everyone else was wrong.

“So we never actually got to dance tonight,” Jim said. He dropped to his knee, like an old-fashioned knight, and Claire couldn’t help but giggle. “May I have this dance?”

“Of course.”

Jim kicked off his shoes, took her left hand in his and put his other on her waist. Together, with the cool air rippling in from the window, they danced.

They danced slowly, like an old couple that already knew each other’s every movement and every step. They danced with no music, nothing but their quiet breathing and the whispers of the trees outside the window. Claire lost herself in Jim’s crystal-blue eyes, feeling as light as the air around them, like the slightest breath of wind would blow them both away. And half-hoping that it would.

“Claire,” Jim said so quietly she barely heard him. “Claire, I think I love you.” They kept turning in slow, slow circles. “No. I know I love you.”

Butterflies fluttered deep in Claire’s chest. “I love you, too.” In that instant, she knew it was true. Jim was the only thing in her life she was certain of. When he bent down to kiss her and their lips connected, it was like a lightning bolt had struck her.

It was crazy, but she knew that they would somehow figure it out. The demons, the angels—at the end of the day, none of that mattered. The only thing that mattered was the boy in her arms, the boy she loved with all her heart.

• • •

Jim left when the downstairs had gone quiet again. As he turned to say goodbye, Claire leaped against him, crushing him against the window and kissing him one last time. He laughed between the flurry of kisses and opened the window a little wider, so he could step back out on the ledge. He winked at her and then dove into the air, fading into the distance like he was turning into just another one of the stars in the sky.

“Claire.”

She jumped back from the window. Gloria stood in the doorway in her bathrobe. Her mother’s short, coppery hair was matted on one side, and her dark brown eyes glimmered with tears.

Claire realized in horror that her mother had seen Jim flying away. An angel. She peered past her mother, into the hallway.

“Gunner’s not here,” Gloria whispered. “I think they went to the lake.” She shuffled slowly into the room, stopping at Claire’s bureau and running her thumb over a picture of the three of them in front of one of their old houses—Pittsburgh, Claire thought. They had all started to blur together at some point.

Finally Gloria made her way to Claire’s bed and lowered herself onto it. She sighed, looking at the picture again, then back to Claire. “I’d ask you to sit, but I know you won’t.”

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