6
The Death by Chocolate mix dripped from the spoon, only for Rebel to catch it with his long tongue. His moan should’ve been rated Suitable for Adults, as his eyelids fluttered like he was taking a hit.
Evie trilled with laughter. She dabbed a rich splodge on his (perfect once again) nose, before licking it off.
A punk angel and dark witch baking and flirting in the kitchen?
If Rebel hadn’t beamed with such relaxed happiness, like the simplicity of slipping the baking tin into the yellow Bertrazzoni Range fed a need — or calmed a demon — I’d have figured him under a spell.
Lucky bastard.
Except this twisted, homely morning after the storm, with me handcuffed on a charcoal swivel stool at the central island, Rebel doing his baker of the year impression, and Evie prancing around like it was Christmas day already and Rebel was her pressie, only reminded me of one thing: Jade was still missing.
My family was broken.
I clutched at my throat, stroking my sister’s crystal necklace.
I promise you, Jade, I’ll find you. And when I do, I’ll hunt down any bastard who made you suffer.
I saw myself atop a mountain of feathers, above a sea of bones and for the first time, I didn’t fear the vision I’d been hiding since I’d turned twenty-one, I opened my arms to it.
I embraced the new creature inside me, or maybe it was the true me, if only I hadn’t been raised human. Maybe I’d fought, and shanked, and kicked against the world because I didn’t belong. And if in turn I’d been rejected, abandoned, and shunned because the human world sensed it too.
But now I could open my mind and let out the darkness.
Revenge was purifying. Righteous. It would be my christening.
Evie chucked a wicker angel effigy at my head, and it bounced to the oak floor. ‘Trance-girl, at least help me weave these. They’re for your protection.’
I shook myself. ‘You see slave tattooed on me, bitch?’
Evie rested her hand on her hip. Sunlight pierced the high arch window, flaming the edges of her hair to bronze. ‘Behind those glasses, I do believe you’re blind.’ I shifted uncomfortably. ‘I’ve lived in a shadow of grief all my life, but you, my lovely, are the shadow.’
Then she snatched Rebel’s hand and twirled around, spilling the flour in a ghost cascade.
The kitchen was cocooned in the warm scent of baking. A deceptive safety that I ached to sink into. Until I caught sight of the panel behind the Bertrazzoni.
A painting of a red rose entrapped a howling black wolf and snarling golden fox.
I bet those poor bastards had been deceived by the addictive offer of family by these spell casters too.
Rebel smiled, grasping my hands in his flour mitts to pull me up, but stopped when I sneered, ‘Anyone would reckon your daddy had given you to Evie.’
Rebel blinked. ‘He did.’
Why did that not surprise me?
Evie yanked Rebel towards her, pushing him into the ceramic mixing bowls with a clink. Swiping her forefinger through the chocolate, she fed the mix to Rebel, who sucked on each offering, as she teased him, in and out.
Disgusted (and I didn’t know whether with them or myself), I turned away.
Evie’s iPhone: sleek, scarlet, and slipped out of her pocket to the oak floor in the dance.
I struggled to keep my breathing even, whilst I peeked at the finger fellating couple.
Nope, still at it.
I edged the iPhone forwards with my foot and then ducked down to snatch it, hiding it in my jean’s pocket. I could work wonders with a mobile. But I had to be alone.
I peered over at Rebel. ‘Get a room, yeah?’
Evie wrapped her arm around his neck. ‘What a perfectly splendid idea.’
I didn’t miss Rebel’s wince, his raised eyebrow at me, or that now familiar flash of hurt in his kohl-smudged eyes.
Scarlet, silk, and more gadgets than a teenage boy: Evie’s bedroom, overflowing with glitter, selfies stuck to heart mirrors, and trophies.
A Queen Bee’s bedroom.
I sank down into the embrace of a fluffy beanbag, as Evie thrust Rebel, with a lick of her lips, onto the satin sheets of her bed.
Naked.
The wallads were both naked, of course.
Hell, Rebel was beautiful.
I didn’t mean to watch, but Evie had insisted they were babysitting, so here I was. The most irregular baby meets the most irregular babysitters.
Rebels wings were outstretched, hanging over the lip of the bed. They pulsed, as Evie straddled his lower back, gently running her fingers up and down from shoulder blade to tip, until he was arching off the bed and…
‘Turning around now.’ I bottom shuffled on the beanbag, facing away from the…couple.
My brain — heart — rebelled at the thought. At Evie’s hands on Rebel’s wings. At the sound of Rebel’s purr and Evie’s groans.
A hot possessiveness snaked around me in tight coils. It craved to whip Evie bloody.
Evie’s laughter chased me. ‘Suit yourself, prude.’
I bristled but then slumped.
Wet snogging smacks, flesh slapping on flesh, and grunting squeals. Rose oil hung thick and cloying.
I slipped the iPhone out of my pocket; the couple had forgotten all about their babysitting duties.
When I pressed on the iPhone, it sprang to life without a password locking it down; so much for protection.
Then again, who’d dare steal from a witch?
Looks like the Bitch of Utopia.
I swiped to send a message to Gizem because the girl had always had my back. All through our time together at Jerusalem Children’s Home, and then afterwards when she’d studied hard, swinging the swanky job at Spirit and Fire Gaming Company and vouching for me.
But then I hesitated.
This wasn’t school bullies beating me up because I didn’t have designer trainers.
This was angels and witches.
And I was one of them.
Could I drag Gizem and her sis into this world?
A slap and bad angels are punished hissed from the bed behind me, jolted me to action.
I tapped Safari, searching for Toben’s murder.
It was still a shock to see a photo from my college yearbook of my pallid face without glasses — one violet and one black eye staring out like the psycho villain in a Bond movie — up as the suspect.
‘Do not approach,’ screamed the text underneath.
The way I looked? I wouldn’t have approached me.
Yet as I scanned the report, flicking from page to page, face after face of disappeared teenagers the same as Jade, stared back at me.
Boys and girls. All young, beautiful, and from Hackney.
I hugged the iPhone, as if I could hug those kids.
Why hadn’t there been more press coverage of their disappearances before or was it only getting the media circus now because of the murder? After all, when a kid goes missing in middle class suburbia, it’s headline news. But when a bunch of kids disappear from an estate in Hackney, it’s shunted to the back pages.
Before, I’d have guessed a grooming ring. But now I knew the supernatural existed…?
I read through the info more slowly. Nothing but names and dates of birth. Yet for a hacker, that’s a gift.
I lost myself in the Internet, crosschecking sites to tease out the truth of those missing kids.
And then I found it. The link.
My stomach lurched.
Jerusalem Children’s Home.
Our children’s home.
The disappeared kids were the cared for: orphans and the vulnerable. And they were being targeted.
Just like Jade.
‘Fascinating, your precious new toy is a thief.’
Crack — I startled, dropping the iPhone to the floorboards. The screen smashed.
Evie snatched me by the arm, hauling me up. She and Rebel both wore matching red silk dressing gowns, with gold threaded initials RWF over the pockets like they were newly-weds.
Rebel’s gaze was cool. ‘She’ll only be after avoiding our shenanigans.’
‘You shan’t blarney your way out of it. Not this time.’ Evie gripped my elbow, dragging me out into the galley, before forcing me in front of a high oak door. ‘We shall take a trip to Uncle Richard, and you shall confess her wicked behaviour.’
I craned to see Rebel, but he trailed behind, his hands stuck deep in his dressing gown pockets.
Bang — bang — bang.
Evie’s sharp rap on the oak door echoed to the timbered roof.
‘Come in.’
Had I travelled back in time to a Victorian boarding school?
Evie smirked, before twisting the door knob. She gave a simpering wave as she pushed both Rebel and me inside. She didn’t dare enter herself; she disappeared back into the gloom of the galley.
Bitch.
Da examined us from behind an oak desk that was carved with a wolf head at one end and a fox head at the other; its feet were paws. Then he carefully closed the leather-bound book he’d been reading, before making a mocking gesture for us to stand in front of the desk.
There was a spot marked by a luxuriously soft fox tip sheepskin rug
I’d never shrivelled inside with nerves like this before. I rubbed my boot backwards and forwards through the mottled red of the sheepskin.
Behind Da, an arched window looked out on a golden garden, which had been stripped bare by winter. I glimpsed a fountain and a maze, as well as the ragged line of woodland. It was easier to study the garden than Da’s stern face.
Da leaned back in his chocolate leather chair, steepling his fingers. ‘Do you wish to expand on the reasons for your unscheduled visit to my study?’
Rebel’s bare toes squirmed into the rug. ‘It’s nothing, so it is.’
‘Do I allow you to lie to me?’ Sharp as a fox’s bared fangs.
Just for a moment, I reckoned Rebel wouldn’t grass. Then his toes curled deeper into the fleece. ‘Violet stole Evie’s phone.’
And my trust burst to flames.
Karma’s a bitch.
When Da tapped on the head of a thick curved cane, which lay like a warning across the desk, Rebel flinched. ‘Precision, if you please. To play games, or contact someone who risks us all?’ Rebel fidgeted with the ties of his dressing gown. ‘I asked you a question, boy.’
‘I’m not invisible, beardface.’ I took a step forward. ‘If you want to know what I did with the mobile? Ask.’
A ghost of a smile, as Da slid his hand along the smooth cane. ‘Very well then. Why did you purloin the phone?’
‘To search for my sister. I didn’t call anyone.’ Rebel’s gaze flickered to mine, his expression softening. ‘I just want to find her.’
‘And what did you discover?’
‘Nothing.’ I didn’t trust Da. Any of the witches. I wasn’t finding Jade, only for her to be taken prisoner too.
Da arched a manicured brow. ‘You have permission, Zach, to utilize your Angelic Power to access this young lady’s memories.’
I backed up against the book-lined wall, banging my head on a low beam. I held my hands up to ward off the violation of my mind.
But I’d forgotten how fast Rebel could move. He was on me, cradling me against his silk side, as he swept his fingers across the back of my neck.
Then he was in me: seeking, touching, and prying.
Yet this time was different. Rebel didn’t want to be there, as much as I didn’t want him.
When he pulled back, he studied me, before saying, ‘She’s no fibbing.’
Furious at his invasion, I shoved him.
Yet…he’d lied for me.
I’d stolen a phone, landed him in trouble, and he’d covered.
Why the hell had Rebel kept my secret?
‘I see. Well then, escort madam to her room. And Zach?’ Rebel faltered in the doorway at the swish of the cane. ‘Do be sure to present yourself back here before bed for a lesson in the correct manner of babysitting.’
‘I will, Da.’ Rebel’s shoulders sagged as he led me to my bedroom.
When Rebel pulled shut the door, trapping us in the wolf dark, apart from a spear of light, I eyed him warily. Then I took a careful breath. ‘Sorry about the—’
‘We have to do something. Those poor lads and lasses.’ When Rebel clasped my arms, his dressing gown fell open and I got an eyeful. ‘I can help.’
‘Cheers Intensity-1000. The kids, Jade included, disappeared from my estate. You say you want to help? The question is, how?’
Rebel’s gaze burned feverishly. His fingers curled into my skin hard enough to bruise. ‘I’m not the best at…anything. Words least of all. I’ve ballsed things up, princess. But if you have something of your sister’s, then I can search for her.’ He tapped his head. ‘Here. It’s brutal dangerous but—’
I broke away from his hold. ‘Then why haven’t you done it already?’
‘Because it’s forbidden.’ We both jumped at the sharp rebuke, like naughty teenagers, swinging to the now opened doorway, where Da loomed statuesque.
I expected Rebel to slink away with his tail between his legs, but instead his shoulders straightened. ‘I’m not a babby to be watched over. I need to do this.’
You could’ve carved your name in the silence.
Then Da smoothed down his waistcoat, flicking off imaginary fluff. ‘If you would be so kind as to step into my study, I believe we need to have a discussion.’
‘I’m not a cub to be belted every time I have my own thought. The lass’ sister is missing, please, let me—’
‘It’s not up for debate.’
Rebel stamped to Da, tipping up his chin defiantly to look him in the eye. ‘I’m no sap, hiding behind my family.’
Da grabbed Rebel by the scruff of the neck, digging in his thumb.
When Rebel yowled, crumpling to his knees, I collapsed onto the bed, clasping the wolf throw and caressing it as I’d seen Rebel doing.
Rebel’s suffering lapped at me in painful waves.
Da pulled the russet handkerchief out of his suit pocket, wiping his hands fastidiously. ‘No, you’re an addict searching for your next hit. One I have no intention of allowing you.’ He twisted Rebel, his fingers wrapped tightly in his hair, holding him on his knees. ‘You see here, little girl, a Human Addict. The weakest of angels. Our House is sworn to find and protect such Addicts, and have for generations. I was only a teenager myself when I first guided and trained Zach. I hoped to save the bad boy. I love him, we all do.’ His hold gentled. ‘Yet, after all, he’d betray me because once an addict, always an addict.’ The pink in Rebel’s cheeks spread down his neck as he swallowed; his spiked collar bobbed around the repressed sobs.
‘But if he can find my sis—’
‘You have no comprehension of what you’re asking,’ Da bit out. ‘Don’t you care who you hurt? If my boy were to reach through the minds of that many humans searching only for one…it would be overwhelming. Like a hit, after being clean.’
If feeding Rebel’s addiction saved my sister, then Da was right: I didn’t care if Rebel overdosed.
Or at least, I told myself that lie, silencing the protesting howls inside
Da read my expression, encircling Rebel’s throat with his large hand. ‘This is a direct order, Zach, do not use your Angelic Power to search for the missing children. If you disobey me…’ Rebel winced. ‘…the consequences — to you both — will be severe.’
What would happen when we defied this sadist of a witch who held an angel by the throat?
Because despite the risk, we had to try.
Actions had consequences. And I was certain we’d discover the brutal cost of disobedience.
Right now, however, I had a sister to save, even if it meant unleashing an Addict.