Veined (A Guardian of the Angels Novel) (4 page)

Attic stopped, and ignoring my surprise that he’d heard me, I scurried to his side.
I was going to do this.

“What was that, last week?” My voice shook and I struggled not to drop my gaze to the floor, forcing myself to commit his pendant to memory until he answered.

I noticed Attic’s shoulders tense, but when he spoke his tone was light. As if the answer was inconsequential. “Oh, that,” he said. “Worried about me, were you?”

Confused, mainly.
Though, yeah, I
had
worried a little about his injuries. He’d landed with such force on my car. And that cut . . .
which had completely disappeared.
I shuddered.

Attic gave me a tight grin. “Not everyone likes me.” The way he said it was as if most people, however, did. My mind flashed to Ashleigh. “I got into a little brawl,” he continued. “No biggie. I didn’t see your car in the cloud until I was almost colliding with it. So I jumped on it when it came into view.” He shrugged, like it answered everything.

“But you were injured. I saw it.” With my finger, I drew a line under my eye.

“Just a scratch, Lark. Tiny.”

The answer I’d wanted to hear all weekend was meant to explain things enough so I didn’t worry anymore. So I could continue trying to be normal. And although I was glad I hadn’t hallucinated, Attic’s tense shoulders belied his assurances that it was nothing, and doubt edged its way into the spotlight of my mind.

Attic lightly pushed me by the small of my back. “Now, we really should be getting to class.”

I poked at the hard lumps of fat meant to pass for meatballs, and put down my plastic fork. The morning seemed to drag forever and it was hard to relax with Attic in such close proximity. Even now, in the cafeteria, he’d chosen to sit at the next table, and already it was swarming with girls. I glanced from him to my meatballs. I wasn’t sure what made my stomach churn more.

I felt the heat flare in my cheeks and narrowed my eyes in Attic’s direction, where he was leaning back, balancing on two chair legs.

Ashleigh grabbed his hand hungrily, like she’d never seen one before. Attic’s soft laughter floated toward me and, catching my eye, he winked. I scowled, and swiveled my back toward him.

Maddy shook her head and elbowed Marcus in the ribs. “How can you find that attractive?” She imitated throwing up. My though
ts exactly. I could’ve hugged her.

Marcus clutched her hand, a worried look on his face. “Maddy, I think you should see a doctor about that.” He pointed to her face.

Whipping her hand from him, Maddy touched her cheeks, her brow. “What is it?”

The frown on Marcus’ face faded and dimples around his mouth deepened. “There’s obviously something wrong with
your eyes.” Maddy hit him and Marcus feigned being hurt.

I picked up the fork again and staked a meatball, wanting to turn our conversation in a non-Attic direction. “Do you think they want us to graduate? Seems to me like they’re trying to kill us off.”

I heard a chuckle and Jason slipped into the free seat next to me. “You might be right there.”

My heart quickened and instead of saying something, like any normal person, I stared. The simple black shirt he wore made his hair seem darker and I wanted to run my hands through it right then and there.

Jason hesitated at my slow reaction. “Sorry, did I get you at a bad moment? I can come back later—”

“No,” I cried out, reaching for him but quickly pulling myself back. “I mean,” I said more softly, “please don’t feel you have to go. You’re welcome to linger.” To linger? To
linger
. Maddy covered a snort of laughter with a cough and I was right there with her. Maybe I should tell Jason that English was my second language? It certainly sounded that way whenever I was around him.

Marcus took his wallet from his bag, opened it up and passed me a ten. “I didn’t think you’d actually say it. You surprise me.”

I stared at him in disbelief. It wasn’t until he slyly winked that I picked up on his intention. I smiled broadly and took the note from his hands. “That’ll teach you not to underestimate me. I never pass up a dare.” Thanks Marcus, for not letting me look dumb.

Jason smiled. “I’m running a study session in preparation for our English test, tomorrow after school. You’re all welcome to come along.” He was asking Maddy and Marcus too, but he was only looking at me. And while his words suggested just a study session, his eyes said something else completely.

Vaguely, I heard Maddy and Marcus give their excuses why they wouldn’t be able to make it, but I was too fixated on Jason’s brown eyes to hear them properly.

“I hope you’re free to come?” Jason probed.

Maddy whispered in my ear. “Just avoid speaking and you’ll be fine.”

I blushed and refrained from saying anything to further embarrass myself. There was just no way of knowing what would come out of my mouth next. I smiled at Jason and nodded.

As Jason stood up to leave, I saw Attic (who had been so nicely hidden from view) looking at me with one brow raised, smiling as if he'd heard the whole thing. Ashleigh bent over, emphasizing her bust, and whispered into his ear. Surely it won’t be long before he sees his next naked body, and whatever he’d glimpsed of mine in the hospital will be all but forgotten. Excellent. I generously threw him a smile before tuning back into Maddy and Marcus’ conversation.

I rested my head against my palm, elbow on the table, and briefly closed my eyes. Tomorrow after school I would be seeing Jason alone. I’d better mentally,
and verbally
, prepare for it.

Ouch!

An excruciating pain, like a blunt knife sawing into muscle, seared the outline of my electro-magnetized mark.

I bit my tongue to hold back the cry, and brought up my other arm to keep my head from smacking into the table. Maddy and Marcus were still talking about what to wear to Twirp.

Their voices drowned and I heard a whimpering, like an animal in pain, too weak to be any louder. The sound was oddly familiar, a memory lurking under thick shelves of ice.

When I opened my eyes I saw the sky. Arched through it was a glittering of
reds, blues, greens and yellows. The most beautiful rainbow I’d ever seen, like little fairies bouncing colorful crystals to one another.

A shadow blocked my view. T
he nearer it came and the darker it got, the warmer I felt. The whimpering stopped and as it did I realized it had been me. “Let my family forgive me.” My voice sounded sad, but I heard undertones of relief.

A light shone before me and I had to blink several times to adjust to it. A beautiful woman with long golden mane and matching golden eyes smiled, her lips moving silently. Without a doubt, those were the same golden eyes I thought I’d seen before.
The coma must have seriously rewired my brain.

Somebody touched my shoulder. “Sylva. We’d better get going.”

I jolted upright, picking up my tray with shaking hands. I tried to focus, to relax. Mom had said stuff like this happening after the coma was normal—
If you have more questions, your transition help at school can talk about them with you.
Glancing around the almost empty cafeteria, I spotted Attic alone, watching me, his female embellishments gone.
Should you even ask him about it? Or will he lie again?

I looked away from him, focusing on Maddy. “Do we have the same class now?”

She pouted. “I’ve got Politics.”

I had Gym, and another hour of Attic.

Loose strands of hair tickled my upper arm and I tucked them away before mounting the beam. Since my talk with Attic this morning and my weird vision thing at lunch, my mood had soured. Confusion and suspicion had twisted my attitude. Right now, I felt bitchy. Any shyness I had vanished, and it’d helped me win against all the other girls. Despite the fact I’d hardly slept all weekend. Now Ashleigh stood on the other side of the beam.

I couldn’t wait to throw her off. It would be a message to Attic.
Don’t underestimate me.
The guy made my mark burn, like it was trying to tell me something about him. Like a warning.

Mrs. Oliviana handed me a thin polystyrene pole just over a meter long, passing it over the foam pit that was there to reduce the risk of injury when w
e fell. Which one of us would. It sure wouldn’t be me. Ms I’m-so-hot opposite me looked like the only sport she knew involved the bed.

On the other side of the gym, the guys were playing the same game. I could see Attic, with his black gloves up to the elbow, still in the running, but as I’d been concentrating on knocking girls off the beam with my pole, I hadn’t seen if he was any good or just lucky.

It was a relief that Mrs Oliviana had separated the competition. This was the furthest he’d been from me the whole day.

Unable to restrain myself, I raised an eyebrow and beckoned Ashleigh with my index finger.

I shuddered at the sound of Attic’s laughter breezing across the hall. Ashleigh heard it too, and threw him a kiss.

I held my arms to my sides, at least making it look as though she might have a chance. Ashleigh inched forward, her pole as threatening as a shaky twig. Waiting in the middle until we were a couple of feet apart, I dropped the pole into the pit. The girls shrieked and cheered Ashleigh on.

It was mean, but it was also too much fun to pass up.

To give her credit where it was due, Ashleigh swung her pole hard and fast. Just not fast enough. As it cut through the air to smack the side of my waist, I arched backward, my hands bracing the beam, and it flew over me. I flipped back onto my feet in time to see the balls of Ashleigh’s feet roll off the beam.

I dismounted as Mrs Oliviana clapped her hands. “Excellent. Sylva, you’ve won the girls’ tournament.” She gave me a pleased nod, and turned to the boys who’d returned to this side of the gym. “And Attic won the boys’ tournament.”
Of course.

Attic stepped toward Mrs Oliviana and said something. I frowned. What was he up to? The guys and girls within hearing range of him started nodding their heads and smirking. One guy even rubbed his hands together, a gleam in his eyes visible twenty feet away.

“We’ve had a suggestion,” Mrs Oliviana said, “to let the winners from each tournament rally against each other.”

I stared at Attic, shaking my head.
Oh, how sorry you’ll be to have suggested that, and how glad I am that you did.

Attic grinned as he came toward me, his blue highlights making his eyes glow brighter. They twinkled naughtily.

He actually thinks he’s going to win.
If he’d been anyone else, I may have felt sorry, forgiving perhaps. But
Attic
, no, he was going to wish he’d jumped off.

Attic purred into my ear as he paused on the way to his end of the beam. “Let’s just see who’ll be sorry.”

CHAPTER 5

I SHOOK OFF
the shiver Attic’s words sent through me and waited until he’d jumped onto the beam. Now it was
my
turn to scare him. I’d been a gymnastic champion for crying out loud. I had an advantage.

I took a few steps back to align myself. Attic stood watching and I winked at him, then ran to the spring board, my muscles flexing and the air rushing around me. I sprung into a flip and landed neatly on the opposite end of the beam.

The crowd gasped, but I ignored them. The only admission of shock or fear I wanted to hear was from the guy opposite me, but he only smiled and shook his head. Mrs Oliviana handed each of us our polystyrene poles and our match officially began.

Attic beckoned me, as I had Ashleigh, to come to him. I scowled, hating to be told what to do, but I knew we’d both have to move to the middle of the beam.

I was at a disadvantage, not having seen how he’d beaten the guys and not being sure whether he’d analyzed any of my moves. Not that I’d needed that many moves with the girls, anyway. I watched him carefully as I stepped forward. He would be stronger, but he was also taller, his higher centre of balance would make moving more difficult for him. My strength would be speed and agility.

“Like what you see?” Attic taunted.

I wished I could have controlled my cheeks from flushing.
Dammit Attic. Just give me more reason to embarrass you.
“I’ve seen better.”

It was half-honest. There was no denying he was gorgeous, but no way would I ever tell him that.

Attic chuckled and ran his gaze over my body, calculating. “And so have I, sweets.”

I gritted my teeth. He held his pole in front of him like a sword, and I followed suit. So this was how he’d play it.

Lunging forward, I stabbed my pole toward his stomach. Crossing it in a cutting motion, Attic swiftly deflected my pole, pushing it away from me. I jumped backward and, as if he’d anticipated my move, he charged forward. I knew he’d target my neck and arm, left open, and try to push me off balance, and I barely managed to keep his pole from prodding me. Mad, I grabbed the tip of his pole and yanked it toward me, dragging Attic closer. “Forget fencing.”

“My my, aren’t you a feisty little Lark?” He grinned and instead of drawing back, as I expected, he stepped forward, grabbed both poles and whipped them from my grasp. “Much rather continue with a little skin on skin, wouldn’t you agree?” He chucked the poles into the pit.

“Well, that’s hardly fair,” I said, placing my right foot behind my left, “You’ve practiced with Ashleigh all day.”

He slowly ran his tongue along his bottom lip. “Jealous?”

“Not in a million years,” I said and saw the flicker of amusement in his eyes. “Despite what everyone says, I don’t think you’re all that charming.”

“
Linger
around me as long as you like, Lark,” he said. “Maybe you’ll change your mind.”

So he
had
been listening at lunch.
He’s trying to wind me up, get me off my guard. Focus.

I flexed my fingers, preparing myself, as Attic inched closer. Before he could make another step, I thrust myself forward. My hands landed on his shoulders and I vaulted over his head, and spun to push him from behind. But there he was, already facing me.

“Lark be nimble, Lark be quick.” Although the words mocked, I heard the surprise in his tone.

A sly smile etched into my cheeks, and before I could restrain myself, I finished the poem, “Lark jumped over your little prick.” What was wrong with me? My mouth seriously needed a month’s worth of detention.

I jumped, startled, as Attic laughed so loud it seemed to echo around the whole gym. My back tingled to his bouts of laughter. When he stopped, he looked at me, his eyes cold and the muscles in his jaw twitching. “I’ll have you flat on your back in under ten seconds. You’re no match for me.”

He blurred. That was how fast he ran.

I felt a blow to my chest and the air was knocked out of me. I stumbled, falling on my butt, only having quick enough sense to lock my legs around the beam and keep my balance.

Attic whacked me on the upper arm with such force I looped under the beam and back up again. He wrenched my legs apart and whispered in my ear, “You’ve got a lot to learn, yet.” 

The last push was much gentler than the others but I was too shocked to resist. And in less than ten seconds, I’d landed in the pit on my back.

Just as Attic had promised.

I slammed the front door and peeled off my soaked parka. Hair clung to my neck, water dripped down my back and my socks squelched against the wooden stairs, leaving a trail of wet footprints to my bedroom.

It had to be the worst day of my life. Coma included.

After Gym, the girls had had a great time laughing at my expense, deliberately praising Attic in front of me, a fancier version of giving me the finger. I smiled each time. At least I would be a gracious loser. Although, honestly, all I wanted to do was wipe the smug grin off Attic’s face and put him flat on his back. And ideally in front of a large crowd.

I pulled off my wet clothes, changed into a knee length skirt and a white shirt, and flopped onto my bed. Absolutely shattered.

I must have drifted off to sleep because one moment I was alone in my room, and the next someone was calling my name.

“Sylva?”

“Hmm?” My eyelids felt heavy to open. Jeffrey smiled, his hair tied back, the light from the hall giving it a red glow. “Yeah?”

He jumped onto my bed and hugged me.

“What’s this for?”

Jeffrey looked sheepishly around the room as he answered. “I dunno. I don’t like it when you go to sleep
. . . I’m scared you won’t wake up again.”

My throat burned and I swallowed, trying to make it go away. “Jeffrey.” I hugged him again and only once I heard him wheeze did I loosen my hold. “You won’t lose me again, I promise.”

I pressed the tip of his button nose. He nodded and clambered off the bed.

As Jeffrey left the room, Mottle padded in, meowing sharply. I dragged myself off the bed and followed Mottle’s meows downstairs and into the kitchen, where Mom tossed a board full of white cubes into a pan of oil.

I pulled down the box of cat food and poured kibble into the cat bowl. Mottle smooched my ankles and I scratched behind her ears. “There you go, swee—” I stopped myself using the endearment. It had a less pleasant ring since Attic used it to address me.

“What’s that smell?” I asked, straightening out of a crouch and opening the fridge.

“Hand me the dishtowel,” Mom answered. I grabbed one hanging from the cutlery drawer and passed it to her. “Tonight it’s a lemon spinach and tofu chutney on pasta.”

Dad strolled in as Mom drained the pasta. He looked really tired, huge black bags hanging under his eyes, his uniform still on and a newspaper under his arm.

“Hey, honey.” Dad smiled at me, which must have cost him a great effort. “Sorry I won’t be able to join you for dinner.”

I poured orange juice into a jug. “What’s up?”

Dad chucked the newspaper on the cookbook stand.
Foxtin’s Newest Gang Threat
, was splashed across the front page.

“Two people have been killed over the weekend alone.” Dad’s face was pale. “And we’ve got nothing. We don’t even know if it’s gang related or some homicidal maniac. We have no witness and anyone who was in the area at the time of the crimes has claimed not to remember anything.” He grabbed a fork and twirled it round in the pasta Mom had just put in her favorite glass bowl. “Got to get back to headquarters.”

Dad gave mom a kiss on the cheek and a minute later I felt the cold air whooshing through the house as he left.

I brushed the knots out of my hair with my fingers and scanned the article. Shuddering, I chucked the newspaper onto the kitchen bench. No wonder Dad hadn’t gone into specifics. The de
aths had been extremely violent. It’d taken the whole weekend to piece body parts together to figure out how many people had been killed. And both of them had been found a few blocks from where we lived.

“Put this out, please,” Mom said, thankfully drawing my thoughts away from the article. She poured the entire lemon spinach tofu on the pasta. I hoped I’d be able to salvage some plain pasta from the bottom of the bowl.

I put the pasta bowl in the middle of the table, moving the vase of flowers out of the way, and started packing away the fourth place setting. Mom came into the dining room with a plate of grated cheese. “What are you doing, Sylva?”

“Since it’s only the three of us, I wanted to put these dishes away with clean hands.”

Mom reddened. “Oh. He didn’t tell you? I thought you already knew.”

“What didn’t Dad tell me?” I asked, but Mom had disappeared into the kitchen again. The doorbell rang. I reset the plate and utensils and jogged down the hall.

I had barely opened the door when I shut it again with such a force it sent tremors through the hall.

What the hell was Attic doing here? Had Mom invited him?

The doorbell rang again. There was a chuckle from behind the door. Through the wood I heard his soft voice, ringing with amusement. “Little Lark, let me in.”

“Or what? You’ll huff and you’ll puff and blow yourself in?”

He chuckled. “It’s just gotten a degree colder out here.”

“I’d rather it get ten degrees colder so your ass freezes off,” I called through the door.

Mom’s voice sailed behind me. “Are you going to open the door, or stand there looking at it?”

Grumbling, I twisted the handle. A gush of wind whirled behind Attic, whipping his hair around his face, his irises glowing an electric blue that was frightening and beautiful all at once.

The edge of his mouth curved into a mischievous grin and he stepped to the side, letting the icy wind slap me in the face as it rudely pushed its way into the hall. My skirt lifted and I doubled over Marilyn Monroe style. And I had thought this day couldn’t get any worse.

Finally, Attic stepped over the threshold and shut the door. I didn’t take my hands off my skirt until the air was completely still. Despite the icy cold, my face swelled with heat.

Attic slipped out of his leather jacket, and hung it on the coat rack. My mind boggled as he started to take off his thin turquoise hoodie. Wasn’t it a little too cold for that? Or did he do it to show off his very toned muscles?
How arrogant.

“Your wish came true,” he said, grabbing my hand and slapping it on his freaking cold butt. “I can only hope mine does, too.”

His eyes twinkled, and little sparks of fire circulated the mark on my back. I wrenched myself free, glaring at him. “I have to wash my hands now, who knows where
that
’s been?” I really didn’t want to know what he’d wished. “And what are you even doing here, anyway?”

Attic walked backwards toward the dining room as he answered while I was still glued to the spot by the door. “I’m here to meet your family. Introduce them to who’s taking care of their little Lark.”

I clenched my jaw at what he called me. I liked my last name for sure, just not coming from his lips.

“But don’t worry,” he continued, “it’s just part of the job. You’re no angel to be around, it’s not like I’m thrilled to be spending my evening with you.” At least there was something we agreed on. “You’re far too conceited for my liking.” Then he turned his back on me.

And you’re a liar. I just wish I knew what you were lying about.

I washed my hands then dragged myself into the dining room. Mom was introducing herself to Attic while Jeffrey waited patiently at the table.

I took a seat on the same side as Jeffrey. Attic sat opposite, leaving his gloves on. Why did he always wear them? Was he badly scarred? Burned? Self-conscious? Or just some weird hygiene freak?

To offer some sort of buffer, I moved the vase of flowers between us. Now I wouldn’t be too tempted to look at his face, which sometimes seemed to illuminate and light up things around him. I wouldn’t be drawn to
him like a fly to a light bulb just because he stood out in a crowd. Not that I was calling the girls who flocked around him flies. Well, not
all
of them, anyway.