“Bunch of bullshit,” Annabelle says.
“Over my dead body,” Aspen clips.
The two girls glance at each other. They seem to realize they’ve been agreeing on a lot lately but aren’t ready to admit it to themselves.
Blue, Charlie, and I follow Valery through the maze. Even after sneaking around the place last night, I have no idea where we are. A man and two young girls, all with blue dishes in their hands, pass by us. They pretend we aren’t even there, so I return the favor and keep walking.
After a few minutes—and mere moments before I scream from claustrophobia—we spill into an enormous room. Well, maybe enormous is an overstatement, but the room does look huge.
Walking toward the farthest wall, I understand why. The entire back area is one solid sheet of glass. Beyond it, the ocean spreads out like a blanket. I can hardly see the cliff’s edge from up here, and the effect makes it seem as if I’m floating on water.
“Line up,” someone orders.
Kraven appears through a doorway, dressed all in white again. I wonder if the dude owns stock in Clorox. I head toward the back of the room, stepping over spongy mats as I move. Blue and Charlie stand on either side of me, and the three of us wait to see what Mr. Clean has to say.
He glides across the room, and with the ocean behind him, he looks a lot like Jesus—walking on water and crap. I resist telling him this.
And Valery says I don’t know how to behave.
Kraven’s chest inflates. “At the Hive, there are six sectors of training you must complete. Failure to pass even one sector means losing your status as a liberator.”
My head whips toward Valery. Her eyebrows knit together like this is news to her.
I raise my hand like a respectful pupil. “Uh, excuse me. You’re telling me if we flunk out of Hive school, we’ll have our cuff removed?”
Kraven continues, dismissing my question. “In the first sector, we’ll cover self-defense. You’ll have three days to master basic skills, and at the end of those three days, you’ll be administered a test.”
My raised arm drops to my side. “Hey, Miami,” I say. “Did you not hear me? I asked for a little clarification.”
His eyes meet mine. “I didn’t ask if you had questions, and from here on out I will not answer them. But to clarify this one topic, Dante Walker, yes. If you fail a training sector, your status as a liberator will be revoked. There are too many angels in heaven who’d love to wear that dargon of yours. So if you don’t respect the rules, you will be replaced.”
“And when did this new rule get established?” I sneer.
Kraven shoots me a look, one that says he’s seriously done taking questions. Well, that’s fine. He can ignore me all he wants, because I can play that game all day long. I move to leave the room, but before I make it two steps something stops me. Charlie stops me. Her blue eyes are wide and attentive, like she can’t wait to get started. I have no idea whether Kraven will actually let her train, but seeing her reminds me of why I’m here.
I have to rescue her soul from hell.
And this training could help me do that.
Maybe Kraven does know a thing or two about fighting. I guess I could give the rat bastard a chance. It might be fun, now that I think of it, to put him in his place. Mr. Kraven is big enough, but not many guys are built the way I am. And what’s more, I know how to throw around every inch of muscle I’ve got.
I raise my hands in defeat. “All right, let’s hear what you’ve got.”
For the next four hours, Kraven repeats several moves. Blue and I try our best to pick up on them as Charlie stays near the back, mirroring our motions. Kraven never tells her she should learn the defense tactics, but it’s obvious he knows she’s watching. I’m thankful, to be honest. It wouldn’t hurt for her to know a few things just in case. She may never be able to attack a collector, but maybe she can learn to hold him off until help comes.
“Stop using brute strength,” Kraven orders me for the millionth time. “Use what I taught you. Don’t deviate.”
He comes at me from behind and wraps his forearm around my throat. Just like he showed us, I kick my heel back into his knee and then throw my elbow into his stomach. He releases his hold.
“That would have been good if you’d focused more on your heel and elbow, and less on pulling away from me,” he scolds.
Blue picks up the moves well, but when it comes time to execute them, he panics. Maybe Kraven is right. We’re better at attacking than freeing ourselves. In retrospect, I’m not sure how Blue or I would have fared against numerous sirens if caught alone.
Kraven wipes sweat from his brow. I’m surprised he sweats at all. “What you need,” he says, “is motivation.”
The blond liberator nods toward someone behind me, and an arm circles my neck. My head cracks backward. The arm is slender, so I know he’s pulled Valery into this stunt.
“Traitor,” I manage, even though she’s cutting off my air supply.
Kraven narrows his eyes at me, and his pupils dilate until there’s only darkness. Then he rushes toward Charlie and wraps his hands around her throat.
With speed I didn’t know I possessed, I throw my head back into Val’s forehead. Then I stomp on her Jimmy Choos. She releases me with a yelp, and I fly toward Charlie. Kraven may act like he’s here to help us, but anyone who touches Charlie like that is an enemy.
I’m an arm’s length away when Charlie kicks Kraven hard between the legs. Then she swings her arms up and out, breaking his hold on her neck. He drops like a boulder.
I stagger to a stop and stare.
She breathes hard for a moment, and then meets my gaze. “I did it.”
I grin like an idiot. “Damn straight.” The smile slides from my face when I notice Kraven’s on his feet again. He moves toward the middle of the room as if nothing happened, as if he didn’t just wrap his gnarly hands around my angel’s throat.
“He wasn’t squeezing,” a soft voice says.
I spin around and find Charlie gazing up at me. She places a hand on my chest, nods her head to assure me she’s fine, and then steps away, her eyes back on Kraven.
The liberator claps his hands. “Again.”
…
Blue and I practice moves on each other through lunch and into the afternoon. When we bitch about empty stomachs, Kraven ignores us. Eventually I give up on the thought of food. If he can go without, then so can I.
Late in the afternoon, Blue successfully blocks one of my blows. He hoots and dances around the room. I’ll admit learning this crap feels good. Empowering. I steal a glance at Kraven to see if he noticed Blue’s achievement.
But his eyes are locked on a closed door.
“Miami, did you see Blue go?” I ask. Yeah, I asked another question, but my boy deserves a little credit.
When I realize Kraven still hasn’t moved, my pulse quickens.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
Kraven holds his hand up to me and keeps his gaze on the door. Then he steals toward it, slinking like a fox. When he gets closer, he steadies himself, pulling in a deep breath.
The door flies open beneath his hand.
Aspen and Annabelle tumble into the room.
The two girls get to their feet, fighting the urge to laugh. Seeing them, I feel laughter bubble up inside me too. Blue and Charlie also wear smiles. Even Red can’t hide her grin.
Kraven, however, is not amused.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he says. I can tell he wants to yell, but that’s not his style. He’s more the totally-creep-you-out-by-remaining-calm guy.
Aspen straightens her spine. “Just seeing if you know your stuff, old man.”
“Rest assured, I know my stuff,” he replies. “And I’m hardly an old man. We’re nearly the same age, girl.”
“Jerk,” Annabelle chimes in.
Kraven turns to address Annabelle.
When his gaze doesn’t waver, she takes a small step back. “What are y
ou looking at?” she asks in a small voice.
Kraven studies her for a long time, just the way he did last night. “Nothing,” he says at last. Then he turns on his heel and heads back toward Blue and me. “The two of you will return to your rooms at once.”
When he whirls back around, his eyes land on Annabelle. “I said now.” It’s the first time I’ve heard any venom in his voice, and it’s clearly directed at Annabelle alone.
“You shouldn’t talk to them that way,” Charlie says, stepping forward.
Kraven continues to glare at Annabelle.
“No, it’s fine,” Annabelle says with a note of hurt. “I’m not special enough to be here. Isn’t that right, liberator?” She spits the last word, then leaves.
Aspen points a finger at Kraven. “You’re a dick.”
I could be mistaken, but I think Aspen just took up for Annabelle. Maybe this awkward moment was the beginning of the two girls forging a bond. At least that’d be something.
“After that bit of pleasantry, I’m officially done for today,” I announce.
“We are not done,” Kraven says.
“Correction, we’re quite done. When you act like a dick weasel to my friends, I’m gone.” I’m not sure if I’m out of line by calling Annabelle and Aspen my friends, but it feels right. I head toward the door, hoping Charlie and Blue will follow. I also hope I’m headed in the right direction.
When I feel Charlie take my hand, my heart leaps. And when Blue throws his sweaty arm around my shoulder, it’s almost too much.
All I think as I leave the training room is, Yeah, these are my friends. Real friends.
And then, So this is what it feels like.
26
Dinner Is Served
Blue, Charlie, and I return to training for the next two days. I can tell Kraven is trying to be more empathetic, but we still call him Cyborg behind his back. Every night, though we return to our rooms broken and bruised, I’m the first to admit that it’s damn fun learning defense. And that I can’t wait to move on to something new.
Valery has been good about checking in on us. She explained that she’s continuing her training in other parts of the estate, and that she’d already passed the self-defense sector. Guess that’s where she was when she was supposed to be on her honeymoon. Knowing she’s training elsewhere also tells me there are other liberators up in this joint, because all I’ve actually seen is Kraven and the two mute chicks who deliver our food.
Speaking of food, where are those broads? They’re usually here by now.
Annabelle kicks her legs up onto a busted-up coffee table in our small lounge area. “I just don’t understand why Cyborg hates me so much.”
“Because you threaten him,” Aspen says. “Because he’s afraid of strong women.”
Blue shakes his head. “No, that guy isn’t afraid of anything. He doesn’t pack that gene.”
“Bet he’s afraid of this.” Charlie raises a bicep into the air and flexes. Beneath her fair skin, a muscle the size of a golf ball pops up.
We all laugh at this.
Charlie acts offended.
She’s been in better spirits lately. Part of it is being distracted. The other relates to something she told me two nights ago after our first day of training. She said that her Grams was with Big Guy now, and that the money she left behind will help Charlie take Hands Helping Hands to a new level. Maybe He took her for a reason, she whispered in the dark. Maybe it’s time for the charity to grow, and He needed to guide these resources into place. She melted into me. Besides, who wouldn’t want my Grams at home with them?
I remember her words and try to believe the smile on her face now. It doesn’t appear as forced as it did three days ago, but it still looks strained. The couch squeaks beneath us as I wrap my arm around her waist and tug her against me. She nuzzles her face into my neck.
“Get a room,” Annabelle says.
“Yes, ma’am.” I jump to my feet and swoop Charlie into my arms, then I carry her toward our room like a caveman. She laughs and slaps at my chest.
I’m about to set her back down when the main door swings open.
It’s Red, Max at her side.
“Kraven has invited you to join him for dinner,” Valery announces.
I put Charlie down. “Miami wants to eat with us? What’s he serving—human hearts?”
Aspen barks out a laugh as Valery rolls her eyes.
For the first time, I notice what Max is wearing. “What’s up with the penguin suit?”
“I look damn good, son.” Max brushes his lapels. “Better than you’re going to look.”
My eyes jerk toward Valery. “What? It’s, like, black tie?”
In response, Red moves out of the way and the Mute Chicks shuffle in. Their arms overflow with gowns and suits and bags full of Big Guy only knows what. I decide I have two choices: fight the wardrobe requirement using my mad self-defense skills, or suit up like the hustler I am.
I choose the latter.
Blue heads toward one of the women to dig through the choices, but I block his path before he can get there.
“Nah, man, I get first dibs,” I say.
“You think so?”
As Blue and I wrestle to the floor, the girls step forward and gracefully accept the dresses. Then they make a beeline for one of the rooms, the Mute Chicks following after them. Not sure why a pretty dress makes even the fiercest girl get all squeal-y. When Blue and I finally glance up, we realize we’re alone with two suits and some fresh toiletry stuff.
I shove Blue off me. “You’re a barbarian.”
Blue and I get ready in about ten minutes. We wait for a lifetime for the three girls to emerge. We bitch and we moan, and we sound like a pair of old women at bingo night.
But when the girls finally appear, it’s all worth it.
My gaze goes immediately to Charlie. Her slight body is accented by a black bodice that makes the blood burn against my skin. Beneath the bodice is a pink layered skirt that looks like something a ballerina would wear. Black heels wrap around her calves and lace up all the way up to her knees. When my eyes travel back up, I notice soft pink makeup shimmers above her eyes and along her cheeks, and the remaining ivory pendant my father gave me lies against her chest. She really does look like an angel…avant-garde.
“Charlie,” I breathe.
She smiles and points to Aspen, who’s standing beside her. “What about her?”
Aspen is also killing it in a navy thigh-length dress with sleeves that billow out toward her glove-covered hands. With nude pumps and a diamond-encrusted band around her head, she looks half hippie, half high fashion. When I notice Blue’s mouth hanging open, I elbow him in the ribs.
“What?” he says, acting innocent, but he’s already back to ogling Aspen.
“Where’s Annabelle?” I ask.
Aspen inspects a bracelet around her wrist. “She won’t come out, keeps saying she looks like a tomato.”
“Annabelle,” Blue shouts, “get out here so we can make fun of you.”
With my empty stomach speaking in tongues, I brush past Aspen, press a lingering kiss against Charlie’s temple, and enter the room.
“Let’s move it, girl. I’ve starv—”
Annabelle turns and faces me.
And I forget what I was saying.
Charlie will always be the love of my life. No one else could ever make me feel the way she does. But tonight Annabelle has stolen the show.
She’s dressed in a fire-engine red gown that hugs all the right parts of her body. An emerald necklace lies against her chest, and a matching ring hugs her finger. Her hair is styled in its usual manner, a dark bob with hard bangs across her forehead. But her eyes are different. They’re shadowed in charcoals and blacks, and they’re lined with a heavy hand. At the corner of each hazel eye, the eyeliner sweeps up.
Annabelle looks like an Egyptian princess.
No, a queen.
I place a hand on her arm, but she won’t mee
t my eyes. “Annabelle, you look incredible.”
“I look enormous.” She jerks her chin toward Charlie and Aspen, who are busy talking to a bumbling Blue. “And they’re so perfect.”
“Stop,” I tell her. “Don’t do that. You’re one of the most badass chicks I’ve ever met, and you’re going to be afraid of a dress that puts you on display? Girl, you were born to be on display. Look at you!”
Annabelle smiles with one side of her mouth. “I don’t look like a tomato?”
“You look like a beauty.” I take her arm and guide her toward the lounge area. “Now rock that shit.”
Ten minutes later, Valery returns to collect us. She’s wearing a silver gown, and as we head toward the great room, she has to slap Max’s hand away every few seconds. Though it doesn’t escape me that each time she lets his touch linger before batting it away.
As we walk like cattle to the slaughter, Charlie twists her ankle, Blue stutters trying to talk to Aspen, I make fun of Blue’s stuttering, and Annabelle loses an earring. Aspen is the only one who acts like a refined adult, which both surprises me, and doesn’t.
When we spill into the great room, Kraven is there waiting. He stands from the end chair and waves an arm toward the table. “Please, take a seat.”
The Mute Chicks pull out our chairs as Kraven instructs them to serve the first course.
“Why don’t those chicks talk?” I ask when they’re out of earshot.
“Dante,” Charlie chastises, but I catch the hint of a smile.
Kraven pushes his hair behind his ears, something he does way too often. “They’ve taken a vow of silence.”
“Why?” I ask.
He unfolds a black napkin and lays it over his lap. “Where is the other human?”
I narrow my eyes at him. He avoided my question, but that’s not what has my attention. Kraven—he’s nervous. But what about?
“Dropped an earring,” Blue answers. “She’s coming.”
Kraven studies Blue, and then his eyes widen at something different. I follow his gaze and spot Annabelle standing in the doorway.
Seeing her there alone, my stomach clenches. We should have waited for her. She was nervous about being around Kraven after their exchange the first day of training. But it turns out I have nothing to worry about. Annabelle raises her chin, drops her hands to her side, and strides toward the table like Cleopatra herself.