Shattered (the Spellbound Series Book 2) (15 page)

Michael looks over his shoulder at my mother, and his face relaxes ever so slightly. “You’re wrong,” he says. “Before you were ever conceived, I came to love your mother, as she came to love me.”

“She just happened to serve a purpose, then.”

Michael’s head swivels back to face me, his eyes blazing as he speaks. “Learn to watch your mouth.”

“You don’t scare me.”

“I am an archangel of the Lord, commander of the first garrison, the very last of the eight strongest warriors Heaven can offer. You would do well to show not just fear, but respect.”

“Sorry, but in this century, respect is earned. Not freely given.”

“I am your father, and you will-“

“I will do nothing,
Dad
. The fact that we’re blood related means nothing to me. It takes more than hooking up with my mom to make you my father.”

Maybe that was pushing things a little too far. Michael clutches his chest as if he’s actually been wounded; for all I know, maybe my words really did hurt him. His wings fold in on themselves until they’re pressed against his back, and I can see where his suit was blasted apart by their emergence. “This is the thanks for the many gifts I’ve given you, then?”

I can’t find it in me to answer, not without yelling in my father’s face. Luckily, I don’t have to. My mother puts her hand on Michael’s shoulder from behind, and says, “Maybe you should go.”

“You might be right.” Michael squares his shoulders, and levels his gaze at me. “Listen well, young lady. Your insolence may serve you at the moment, but there will come a day when you’ll wish you had allowed me to be a father to you. I could have shown you my ways, strengthened you, taught you everything I’ve learned. And on the day you realize you needed me, I will be there to say… What’s the common phrase now?
I told you so
.”

“Just get out,” I mutter.

Without a word, Michael dips his head to Nick, kisses my mother’s hand, and walks towards the front door, vanishing on the spot just before he reaches the end of the hall.

15

              Surprisingly, some part of me feels bad about talking to Michael the way I did. I may not consider him a real father, nor do I care about him in any other respect, but he seemed genuinely hurt. He could just be disappointed by the fact that I refuse to be his obedient little pawn. Or, he could actually want to help me, step in and be a father now that he considers his presence necessary. Either way, I’m not apologizing, not that I could. If Michael really wanted me to change my mind and accept his aid, he would have left me with some way to keep in touch.

              Between my mother and Nick, I can’t tell who looks more amazed; they’re both watching the spot where Michael just stood with shocked expressions. I have no idea what’s going through Nick’s mind, but I’m sure my mom is wondering exactly how she wound up conceiving a child with a living, breathing, terrifying angel. I’m mostly just wondering if I’ll ever have wings of my own, but unlike them, I’m hiding my wonder behind the same mutinous mask Michael makes me want to wear during our little talks.

              A few moments of silence pass, which are only interrupted by the sound of my voice. “Was he telling the truth?,” I ask my mom. “Did you two actually love each other?”

              “We did,” she answers. “Well, I loved him, and I’m not sure if his kind even
can
love, but he certainly felt something as well. He was a lot more gentle back then. Or, maybe I was just lucky enough to see the softer side under the macho façade.”

              I shrug, and push myself up from the floor. The living room is a mess; when Michael’s wings emerged, the surge of power radiating from him tossed everything around. I wave my hand, and the room begins to set itself right. Pieces of broken lamps gravitate towards each other until they solidify into a whole, scattered magazines return to the piles from whence they came, and the fallen pictures return to their rightful places on shelves and walls around the room. In a matter of seconds, the living room looks undisturbed once again.

              My mom rolls her eyes at me. “Sure, you can do that with a flick of the wrist, but you still refuse to clean your mess of a room.”

              “It’s not a mess, it’s self-expression. An untidy room is a sign of a busy mind.”

              “It’s a sign of a lazy brat.”

              Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes. Before I forget, I pull my mom into a hug, and tell her, “Thank you.”

              “What for?”

              “For telling him to leave. For being on my side.”

              My mom returns the hug, and whispers into my curly tangle of hair, “I’ve always got your back, kid.” We hold each other briefly, but tightly, and for the first time since I yelled at her, everything between us feels the way it used to.

              “What did he want from you, anyway?,” I ask as we pull away from each other.

              “Just to see if I could talk you into ‘fulfilling your destiny.’ He knows we’re close, and that you’re more likely to listen to me.”

              “And?”

              “And I told him that if he thinks you’re going to do anything you don’t want to do, then he’s in for a rude awakening.”

              That brings a smile to my lips. I suppose that has become my reputation, and I can’t say I mind.

              My phone buzzes, and I dig it out of my pocket to look at the new text. It’s a message from Jenna: “Are you guys still in the area? I think I found what you were looking for earlier.”

              I have to fight back a triumphant smile as I show Nick the text. He takes my phone, and I tell my mom we’ll be back later. When she asks where we’re going, I tell her, “We’re going to track down an old friend. We’ll be back later.”

              I grab Nick’s hand, and he closes his eyes as my living room fades to black around us, only to be quickly be replaced by Jenna’s living room. Nick groans and clutches his stomach, while I look around for the basement door. It’s been left open for us, so I pull Nick down the steps along with me, and find Jenna against the back wall, watching a mazelike screensaver projected on the wall. “Took you guys long enough,” she says as we draw near.

              “There was a lot of traffic,” I reply with a shrug. “What have you got for us?”

              “It might be nothing, but we got a hit on your Evelyn Brenner.”

              Nick squeezes my fingers more tightly between his, and asks, “What did you find out?”

              “Unfortunately, not as much as I would have liked.” Jenna presses a key on the computer, and the screen turns into a massive picture of the woman we’re trying to find. She looks healthier in this picture than the one on Navarro’s file, but I can’t tell which one is more recent. “We know that she goes by Eve these days, and that her last known permanent address was in Hempstead. Right now, though… It’s hard to say where she could be.”

              I frown at the image on the wall, and wonder out loud, “How are we going to find her in a city this huge?”

              “That’s the other part of what I found.” Jenna presses an arrow key, and Eve’s face is replaced by a screenshot of a Facebook post. I skip past the name of the poster, and read beneath it: “so excited to see Eve at the show! girls been missing foever”.

              “What does that do for us?,” Nick asks.

              “Well, this is one of Eve’s friends, another vampire in our database. And I checked him out, there’s nobody else he could be in contact with named Eve. So…”

              I grin a little at the screen, and complete Jenna’s thought. “So, this could be our chance to get a hold of her.”

              “It’s a long shot,” Jenna admits, “but it’s what I could find on short notice. If this were an actual contract, we’d track Eve’s IP address and go right to the source, but this ought to give us time to prepare.”

              “What’s this show her friend is talking about?”

              Another keystroke pulls up the blown up image of a poster. The headlining band is one I’ve never heard of, and I skim right over the opening acts to the date, which is roughly two weeks from now. “I think it’s about time we went to see a concert,” I suggest to Nick.

              Jenna shrugs. “It’s gonna be expensive to get more than a couple of us in, but I’ll work on getting us some tickets.”

              “Why do you keep saying us? Are you coming to the show too?”

              “Of course I am,” Jenna says. “This venue’s a well known metahuman hangout spot. I’m not letting you two walk in there alone.”

              “But there are gonna be humans on stage, aren’t there?”

              “They’re safe, for the most part. The bands are only in danger if the crowd doesn’t like what they’re playing.”

              I shrug, and scan the poster a little more carefully on my second read through. This time, I actually register the name
Interrobang
listed under the main event. And that’s when I start to get truly excited about this idea.

              “Actually, guys, I think I know a way to get us in for free.”

***

              The two weeks leading up to the show are spent preparing for the operation we’re trying to pull. Initially, Jenna suggests we leave Nick behind to keep him safe, but he insists on coming along. He’s going to be with Jenna and the other hunter she’s bringing along for assistance. I suggest we invite Rachel, since we’ve both seen how valuable an asset she can be if things turn ugly. And since her girlfriend plays bass for one of the opening acts, Alyssa will be at the show regardless. I let her in on the plan as well. She and Rachel are with me, the three of us ensuring the safety of the capture team should things turn sour.

              The week before the show, Alyssa and I check out the venue in the light of day, a century-old movie theater converted into several small performance spaces collectively called the Nightmare Theater. Apparently, we’re in a hot spot for clubs and performance spaces; we’re right down the street from Bowery Ballroom in one direction, and Pandemonium in the other. We can’t get into the theater itself without paying, but we explore the upper floors of the old building, mostly abandoned aside from a few thin rats and the occasional cockroach. Assuming the blueprints Jenna found are accurate, and they can somehow get our target up here, they shouldn’t be interrupted by unwanted visitors.

              The afternoon of the show, Jenna calls everyone involved in the plan to her house, and we all meet in her basement to look over the plan. Alyssa, Nick, and I arrive first, followed by Rachel, and finally, Nick’s little sister, Emma. I shrug at her presence, but Nick looks like he might lose his cool. His neck turns red and blotchy, and he asks, “What are you doing here?”

              “Jenna asked for an extra set of eyes and ears, so I volunteered. Is that a problem?”

              “When did you even become a hunter?”

              “Last week.” Emma brushes her ponytail off her shoulder, and explains, “I was sworn in a week ago as an official hunter, so now I’m on payroll and such. But I’ve been in training since about a year after Dad kicked you out.”

              Nick opens his mouth to protest, but I cut him off. “We don’t have time for this. You can pull the overprotective act later. Right now, we need to go over the plan one last time.”

              Jenna details where each of us will be during the show, using a laser pointer and the Nightmare Theater’s blueprints on the projector. I’ll be in the crowd with Alyssa and Rachel, watching the show with earpieces in so that we can be alerted if the capture team is in need of assistance. Nick will be moving through the crowd looking for Eve, while Emma and Jenna take strategic positions near the exits she’s likely to take.

When she’s sure we all understand our roles, Jenna hands us our tickets and dismisses us with final instructions. “Let’s all try not to arrive at the same time, people. And dress appropriately. We’re catching a vampire, not going to a fashion show.”

In spite of that final directive, I end up in a pair of old jeans and Converse, along with a stylish leather jacket that Alyssa borrowed from Lily for me. Jenna rolls her eyes at my chosen attire, but says nothing as she helps me with my makeup. After ten minutes of judgmental glaring, I ask, “What exactly do
you
plan on wearing?”

Jenna shrugs, and tilts my face upward to see where more work is needed. “My uniform,” she replies.

“You get a uniform?”

“Sort of. Skintight black pants, black flats, black hoodie. We stick mostly to dark colors when we’re trying not to be seen.”

“Huh. I was expecting hunters to wear mostly denim and plaid.”

“Nah, then we’d stick out as much as you do.” Jenna holds my face steady while coming dangerously close to blinding me with her eyeliner.

“Maybe because of the makeup,” I grumble. “I was fine with just the outfit.”

“The outfit’s alright, I guess, but you
should
look like you’re attending a normal outing.”

“And I need to get dolled up for that?”

“Not necessarily, but it won’t kill you to remind yourself and others that you’re still a girl once in a while.”

I’m tempted to push Jenna aside and wipe my face clean with a spell, but I refrain out of appreciation for all she’s done to help Nick. “There’s so much more to being a girl than dresses and makeup,” I tell her. “And looking good for others is a waste of my time. The only person whose opinion on me matters is
me
.”

              “Maybe so, but you can’t be in badass warrior loner mode all the time, either.”

              “Why not?”

              “Because it would be a shame to keep a face like this from being all that it can be.” Jenna steps away from my face to admire her handiwork, and I peek at my reflection in her vanity. I can hardly recognize the girl staring back at me; her vivid emerald eyes are ringed by a blackish green halo, with eyeliner wings too sharp and even for me to ever achieve on my own. My already tanned summer skin is now a softly shimmering bronze, my cheekbones highlighted with products that I’ve never even heard of.

              In short, I look like the sort of person I’ve always wanted to become. Gorgeous. Sexy. And a little dangerous. But I don’t look like me.

              It’ll have to do. I thank Jenna for her hard work, and take my leave so she can get ready herself. I find Nick waiting for me in Jenna’s living room, watching the TV with a blank face. He does a double take when he sees what’s been done to me; I guess the transformation is a little jarring. Before he can comment, I offer him my hand, and ask, “Ready to go?”

              Nick grins, and takes my hand in his as he stands. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

              I lock my fingers with his, and we walk together out the front door. This plan could go wrong in several ways, and a lot of people could get hurt. But I could care less about whatever the night holds for us. As long as Nick gets the answers he need, it’ll all be worth it.