Angelbound

Chapter 9-1

9

I take a deep breath, walk up to the front door of the Ryder mansion and knock. No answer.

I jiggle the handle. It’s unlocked. I turn the knob and step inside.

“Cissy? Zeke?” I nervously bite my lower lip. I’m totally late after that fiasco at the Arena with Adair. If after all that, I can’t go to the library today, I will definitely need to kill something. Hopefully, not Zeke.

Soft giggles sound from behind the corner to the West Wing.

“Zekie, don’t!” It’s Cissy.

Oh, they’re here alright. Ick.

I stand in the center of the reception hall. “Cissy, I’m going over to the library. Is that okay?”

More giggles.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’” I walk down the hallway to the East Wing and hike up the stairs. I stop at the second floor.

This is the exact spot I saw in my dreamscape. This is where Mom met up with her family–my family–before she was sworn in as Senator. I stare at the closed door, knots of nervous energy forming down my spine.

Here goes.

I slowly set my fingertips on the knob and twist. It’s open. I step past the threshold and flip on the lights. Inside is an ornate wooden conference room with mahogany tables and chairs. Huge paintings of the Oligarchy hang from the walls.

I frown. None of this looks like it did in my dreamscape.

Another door stands ajar at the back of the room. I walk through it and enter a long, open space dripping in cobwebs. My breath catches. This is the old senate offices, exactly the way they were before the war. My heart starts beating like crazy.

“Hey, Myla.”

I jump a bit and gasp. “Oh, Cissy. I didn’t see you there.”

“Didn’t you hear me calling you on the way over?”

I run my finger along a dusty desktop. “I guess I was a little distracted.” I peep at the empty space behind her. “Where’s Zeke?”

Cissy shrugs. “I told him I’d meet up with him later.” She eyes my fighting suit. “Another Arena match today?”

“Of sorts.”

“You’re going once or twice a month now.” She shakes her head from side to side. “I’m worried about you.”

I open my mouth, ready to tell her everything, then close it just as quickly. “I’m fine, Cissy.”

“You’re always saying that lately.” She steps around the dim space. “What are you doing in here? This is nasty old office space they used before the war. It’s been boarded up for ages.”

“Mom was a Senator in the old Republic. Her team worked in this office.”

Cissy’s tawny eyes open wide. “Wow.” She sets her hand on her rib cage. “How long have you known that?”

“Since I first visited the library. I found a book about it.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know. It’s private stuff.” Guilt worms its way around my belly. Am I so proud that I can’t tell my best friend I’m part-ghoul?

“You never used to feel that way.” She steps to my side and gently sets her hand on my shoulder. “We’ve gabbed about your Mom’s pre-war ‘mystery history’ since we were kids. Remember that time we made sand castles at Canus Beach? You pretended your Mom fought demons in a tall tower. I said your father was the dragon King.”

My voice cracks when I speak. “Yeah, I remember.” I slowly lower myself into a rickety office chair, setting off a poof of cobwebs and dust. I cover my face with my hands.

Cissy kneels beside me. “Come on, Myla. There’s something bothering you and it’s more than your Mom being a Senator. You can tell me.”

I hug my elbows. “Here’s the thing. The Lewises used to be a huge family. Everyone was murdered in Armageddon’s War because Mom was a Senator. That’s why she’s so overprotective of me. She lost everyone she loved.” I stare at the floor. “I never even got to meet them.”

Cissy pats my hand. “I’m so sorry.”

“For so long I wanted to know the truth. Now I want to forget everything I’ve learned.” A warm tear rolls down the bridge of my nose.

“I understand, sweetie.”

I slump into the old office chair and watch dust motes float through the beam of light from the opened door. Somewhere an old-fashioned clock ticks away. I stare into the shadows, imagining ghostly Lewis eyes peeping at me in fear. My skin puckers into gooseflesh. Cissy gently rests her hand on my arm.

“Hey, I might have something to cheer you up.” She slides an envelope out of her pocket. “I totally shouldn’t do this.”

I look at her out of my right eye. “Do what?”

“Everyone’s freaking out in the East Wing. The thrax reserved the mansion for some event to celebrate autumn, but the ghoul minister’s kicking them out. No one wants to tell a bunch of demon fighters that they can’t use the house.” She taps the sealed envelope against her palm and looks at me expectantly. “I’m supposed to give this to one of the other Furor fighters to deliver.”

Thrax? Message? I smell payback.

I shoot Cissy my most innocent grin. “You’re right. It would totally cheer me up to go on a little errand.”

“That’s my Myla.” Cissy starts to hand me the letter, and then she pulls it back. “Don’t be surprised if they’re a little cranky about the change.”

“Oh, I can handle it.” I scoop the envelope from her hands. Zipping down my fighting suit, I set the letter against my collarbone, then zip it up again. “I’m on it.”

“One more thing. The thrax are really into their traditions. To get into their compound, you have to wear a dress and ride a horse.” Her face lands somewhere between a wince and a smile. “This could be a nice change of pace for you. Getting dressed up and all.”

I open my mouth to spill the truth: I’m not dress-girl or horse-lady. Sure, I love sneaking into the Ryder stables to kill Doxy demons, but I have no idea how to touch a horse, let alone ride it. But then I shut my yap. Screw it. I’d say just about anything for this payback fiesta. “That sounds like such a nice idea, Cissy.”

“And won’t tell anyone I let you do this, okay?”

“Never.”

“Good.” She rocks back on her heels, setting her golden ringlets swinging. “There are some thrax horses in the Ryder stables. I guess they’re enchanted or something. I hear they basically ride themselves, if you know what I mean.”

Some little part of me feels guilty for misleading Cissy here when she’s trying to be nice, but my inner demon has that little part of me in a sleeper hold. “Sounds like a plan.”

Cissy and I leave the mansion, hike past the hedgerow maze, and head toward a long and thin building on the outer grounds: the Ryder stables. A great wooden door marks the entrance; Cissy hauls it open. Inside, there’s a long central aisle with about a dozen stalls on either side.

I walk up the main aisle, peeking in the different stalls. Dry hay crunches beneath my feet. “I’ve always wondered. Why do the Ryders have stables anyway? Zeke never talks about riding and his parents only seem to love tennis.”

“It’s for guests. Thrax aren’t the only ones who like to travel by horse. Some ghouls and demons do it too. Normally, there are only a few horses in residence, but with the thrax in town, the stables are almost always full these days.”

I look at the different horses, reading the names printed above the stalls. “Moon Shadow. Firelight. Eugene.”

“That last one is a demon horse. Don’t go near it.”

My brows arch with admiration. “You’re a fountain of diplomatic information, Miss Frederickson.”

Cissy grins. “Zeke’s parents have taught me all sorts of stuff. It’s really interesting.”

A horse with a bluish-gray coat steps out of a nearby stall. She prances up to me and whinnies.

I smile. I’d know this horse anywhere. She’s been a target of the Doxy demons for months. They love to snarl her mane and tail; I love to play her personal demon exterminator. I run my fingers through the horse’s silky black mane. “What’s your name, lovely?”

Cissy steps up to the now-empty stall. “She’s a thrax horse. Her name’s Nightshade.” Cissy peeps inside. “I wonder how she got out of her stall.”

I shrug. “You said the horses were enchanted. Maybe they can do magic.”

Nightshade couches onto the stable floor. Her big black eyes stare at me in a way that says ‘climb on.’

My body buzzes with excitement. I quickly slip onto into Nightshade; her back feels warm and steady below me as she rises to her feet. The next moment, Nightshade begins walking toward the stable doors. A sense of calm and ease washes over me. I feel as if I’ve ridden on her all my life. Grinning, I loop my fingers through her mane and whisper in a low voice. “Take me to the thrax.” She rears on her hind legs.

Cissy frowns. “Not yet, Myla. You’re supposed to wear a gown!”

Nightshade gallops toward the stable exit. I look over my shoulder and wave. “I’ll figure something out!”

I’m pretty sure Cissy screams something at me, but I can’t hear her. Okay, maybe I could hear her if I tried, but I’m riding a freaking horse! Nightshade’s muscles shift beneath me in drum-roll rhythm. The wind whirls across my face, roars in my ears and dances through my long auburn hair. It’s nothing less than glorious.

Nightshade and I pound over the rolling hills behind the Ryder mansion. Exhilaration bubbles through my bloodstream. We thrum across vast fields of high grass. After a short ride, her pace starts to slow.

A trio of purple tents appears on the horizon. They’re all large and held in place by sturdy poles, more like circus tents than camping stuff. A line of tall pine trees looms to their right. Nightshade slows to a halt.

“Are we here, Night?”

The horse nickers.

I release my fingers from her mane, slide down the horse’s barrel and pick my way toward the nearest tent. Everything looks deserted. A girl in a yellow gown steps out from the line of trees. She’s tall and willowy with long blonde hair.

I wave my arms. “Hello, there!”

The girl stops, eyeing me from head to toe. “Are you lost too? I’ve lived here for months and I still can’t find my way around. This place is huge.”

I step closer. “Yes, I’m lost. Kind of.”

She grins. “Forgive my bad manners.” She curtsies. “I’m Lady Avery. Who are you?” She blinks her large eyes, one green and one brown.

“I’m Myla.” I stare at her for a moment. “You look familiar.”

“I’m the younger sister of the Great Scala Heir.”

“Yeah, that’s it.” I flash my most winning smile. “I’m looking for Prince Lincoln. I have an important message for him.”

She shifts her weight onto her right leg. “He’s at a thrax-only event. You’re not supposed to go unless you’re invited.” She scans my black fighting suit. “And unless you’re wearing proper dress.”

“Of course, I was invited to today’s…” I look at her encouragingly.

“Battle practice with the young Lords?”

Not a bright one, that Avery.

“Exactly. That’s totally what I was invited to. And I got an official exception for the dress thing.”

Avery frowns. “I’ve never heard of an official exception.”

“I have a skin condition. This suit was, uh, prescribed by my doctor.” I hold out my hand. “You should stand back. It’s kind of contagious.”

“Oh, my!”

“Where’s the practice again?”

“That way.” She points to a rocky hill across from the tall pines. “I’m heading there myself. Now that my sister’s the Scala Heir, I’m the Great Lady for the House of Acca.” She beams and tosses her hair. “Isn’t that wonderful?”

I plaster my smile back on. “It sure is.” I take off at a run. “I’ll see you there!”

“Okay. Goodbye, Myla!”

I speed up the rocky incline, my heart thudding with anticipation. I summit the small hill and scope out the ground below. A flat patch of green field opens before me. Lincoln stands in its center, surrounded by four men in velvet tunics of bronze, yellow, purple, and blue. They all look in their late teens. The Queen waits on the sidelines, motionless and regal in her black velvet gown. The Great Ladies encircle her, still wearing their multi-colored dresses from the initiation. Adair has changed into a simple white robe.

In the center of the field, Lincoln flips a wooden practice sword in his hand. Raising his arm high, he demonstrates a slicing technique to the young Lords. Everyone’s attention is focused on the lesson. I picture what’ll happen once I introduce myself. My mouth winds into a semi-evil grin.

Now’s my chance.

I stride down the rocky hill and raise my arm high. “Hello, there! I have a message for the–”

The Acca Lord shakes his blonde head. “A demon! I shall protect you, my Prince!” He races toward me, arms outstretched.

I watch my opponent, shaking my head in disbelief. This is his total plan? Run up and grab me? That’s way too easy. I wait until he’s close, then leap up into the air and kick my heels forward. My boots connect with his chest. The Acca Lord tumbles onto his ass, gasping for breath. I somersault backwards, land on my feet and keep walking.

My grin stretches even wider. I love that move.

I keep a steady stride toward Lincoln, scanning the field as I go. The Queen and ladies stand immobile and stunned on the sidelines. The three remaining Lords bob on their heels, waiting for their turn to attack. Lincoln stares at me, his mismatched eyes filled with cool menace.

Good.

“Stop now, foul demon!” It’s the Horus Lord this time. His 250 pounds of solid muscle barrel straight for me.

I size up his approach. This one will be a little more interesting.

Once the Horus Lord is almost upon me, I bend over at the waist. My tail wraps around my attacker’s neck, spinning him 360 degrees. With a heavy thud, he lands back-first onto the field. A low groan fills the air.

I wince. Okay, that might be a concussion. Oops.

I resume my forward march. Lincoln’s only a few yards away now. Lord Kamal takes up the cry. At least he has the sense to grab a wooden sword.

Weapons. That mixes it up.

I stop, set my weight on my right leg and cross my arms over my chest. Kamal races up to me, his sword raised high above his head.

“Die, you demon sc–”

My tail punches him in the gut. At least I think it was the gut. Eh, I wasn’t really paying close attention. Lord Kamal crouches into a fetal position and falls over onto the ground, moaning.

I step up to the Striga Lord. “Are you gonna try anything?”

The young Lord shakes his head vigorously, causing the purple beads in his hair to jingle. “No, your ladyship.”

“Good.”

I turn to Lincoln. His stance is rigid; his face is still as stone. Raising my hand, I unzip the top of my suit. Gasps sound from the Great Ladies. I can’t help but smile just a little bit. I slide the envelope out from under my suit and hand it over. The Prince grips the letter, his face unreadable.

“Message for you from the Ghoul Minister. It’s urgent.” I bow slightly. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll leave you real warriors to fight it out.” I walk away, and maybe I shake my hips a wee bit more than necessary.

As I cross the field, I scan the faces of the Great Ladies. All their mouths curl in unflattering looks of shock and disgust. Adair looks especially ugly. Sweet.

The Queen watches me too, but unlike the Great Ladies, a satisfied grin rounds her mouth. My tail waves goodbye to her. She nods slightly in return.

Avery appears at the top of the rocky hill. “I’m here, everyone!” She waves. “Did I miss anything?”

I shoot her a hearty thumbs-up. “Not much. Catch you later.”

Avery curtsies. “Goodbye, Myla. I hope your skin condition improves.”

“Oh, it has.” I feel tons better already.

I hike over the hill, finding Nightshade waiting for me by the nearest tent. She paws the ground with her front hoof in a move that says ‘let’s vamoose.’

“I’m ready to go, too.” I wind my fingers through her mane and haul myself onto her back. Nightshade gallops over the fields and hills. All too soon, we’re trotting down my street. Nightshade stops by my front door; I slide off her barrel.

“Thank you, Night.” She nuzzles into my neck. I brush her mane with my fingers and sigh. Nightshade is the best. “I’m so glad you found me, girl.”

She whinnies softly and takes off at a gallop.

When I walk through my front door, the house is quiet and empty. I roam the rooms until I find a note from Mom on the kitchen table. She’s running errands with Walker and won’t be home until late. I make myself a quick bite to eat and slip into bed, a peaceful smile on my face for the first time in recent memory. You don’t get many chances to kick ass like I did today. The only thing that could’ve made it better would be video.