Chapter 27 – Ava Jade
AVA JADE
M r. Williams’ body still had yet to be found in the ash and rubble of his house at the edge of the city, though officials had been searching since the flames and embers died out early this morning.
Soon, they’d find him. But for now, Thorn Valley seemed to collectively be holding its breath, waiting for good news.
All except for Layla Hopkins, who we found in the cafeteria at breakfast, staring up at the news channel on the widescreen television, her food untouched.
Subtitles flashed across the bottom of the screen, telling the general public that so far, there was no evidence of arson or any form of foul play.
For now, at least, they were treating this as an accident and the authorities suspected the fire came from a burner that was left on in the kitchen.
Which was exactly the story Corvus had fed to the fire chief along with a wad of bills and a cliff-notes version of what we’d found in his house in case the chief decided the bribe wasn’t worth the man’s life.
So far, everything was going to plan, and I couldn’t help a smug smirk as I slid into the serving line, piling a plate high with scrambled eggs and bacon while the guys wandered to our table. I gave Grey a strange look, but he didn’t see, his stare fixed to the screen over Layla’s head.
Apparently, I was the only one eating this morning.
I mean, the sooty, acrid smell of Williams still clogging my nose would probably taint it all with a funny taste, but with enough hot sauce…
Yeah, it’d be fine.
The metal spoon clattered against my tray as I scooped some fruit into a bowl and set it on my tray. Layla twisted in her seat, doing a double take when she saw me. Her first reaction was fear, but I held her there, captive in my stare for a moment, waiting for it to sink in.
I nodded, and she slumped at my wordless admission, a breath puffing from her lips, eyes watering. There it was. The relief.
It solidified that we’d done the right thing.
Layla Hopkins should fear me, but she should fear for the real monsters more.
Better the evil you know than the evil you don’t.
“Hey, Angel.”
My fingers tightened on the tray, and I turned, finding a very familiar six foot tall frame also piling a tray high with breakfast.
“Drake?”
He peered up at me from the corner of his eye. “Yes?”
I looked to the guys, who were all staring at Drake’s back with varying looks of unease.
Drake nudged me out of his way, reaching past my arm to grab some fruit for himself as though this was entirely natural.
“Um, what are you doing here?”
Behind him, I thought I saw another King entering the cafeteria, a girl from my English lit class on his arm, blushing as she bit her lower lip.
Drake tossed his light hair back from his face and lifted a strip of fatty bacon to his mouth, tearing off half the strip with his teeth. “Part of the deal with Dies,” he said once he’d swallowed. “Apparently,” he pointed to the ketchup behind me, “do you mind?”
I moved out of the way for him to grab it. He loaded it onto the mountain of eggs on his plate.
“Apparently, what? ”
“ Apparently, ” Drake repeated, plopping the ketchup back down. “The Aces have resurfaced further south. They may or may not have cut a deal with the, uh, Skeletons?”
“Skeletons?”
“No, fuck, that’s not it. The Dead Men . That’s them.”
I lifted a brow. I hadn’t heard of them.
“You wouldn’t know them,” Drake said, reading my mind. “They’re little league. Barely a blimp on the map, but together with what remains of the Aces…”
“Why weren’t we briefed on this?” I found myself asking, as though Drake would know.
He started toward the table, our table, pausing to look back over his shoulder at me. “You coming?”
Drake slid in easily across from Corvus, setting his tray down with another piece of bacon hanging from his mouth. He caught Corvus staring and lifted the lip of his plate, tipping it in his direction. “Want some?”
Corvus’ phone rang, and he lifted it to his ear. “Yeah?”
He listened for a minute to whoever was on the other end, eyeing Drake as I slid in next to him and he made some space for me.
“What’s our move?” Corvus asked over the receiver, and I assumed it was Diesel calling to explain just what the fuck was happening.
“Got it,” Corvus said and hung up, setting his phone down on the table.
“Pops?” Drake asked between mouthfuls of egg.
Rook tapped a coin on the table, sitting up straighter to peer over at Corvus. “Want to fill us in?”
“We got word that the Aces were cutting a deal with the Dead Men,” Drake said before Corvus could.
“And apparently Diesel thought it might be a good idea to increase gang presence at Briar Hall in case they try anything,” Corvus added.
“Surprise,” Drake said sarcastically, an easy smile gracing his full lips. “We’re homeroom buddies now.”
Rook’s dark gaze zeroed in on the other Kings entering the cafeteria.
I spied the creepy looking fucker from fight night, the one that matched Becca’s description, and wished she was down here eating with us so I could point him out.
He hovered near the rear exit to the cafeteria, sipping something from a paper cup.
There looked to be a total of five new students at Briar Hall. Two of whom looked far too old to be here.
Drake, though, even with the evidence of a hard life carved into the weathered lines of his face, somehow managed to give off the aura of someone young and full of life. He fit in. The others really didn’t.
Grey’s foot slid into mine under the table, hard, and when I looked up, I found him watching me.
Watching me watch Drake.
Had I been staring that long?
I cleared my throat, my appetite suddenly gone. “I think I’m going to take this up to Becca. See if she’s up to eating anything.”
“Becca?” Drake asked, lifting a brow.
“My roommate,” I explained. “She wasn’t feeling well this morning. She’s still in bed.”
“Ah,” he said, stabbing another forkful of eggs. “Want me to go with you?”
“We’re good here,” Grey said. “Why don’t you go and sit with your guys, yeah? We’ll let you know if we need you.”
I pressed my lips together, holding back a grin.
Drake, unperturbed, stood, scooping up his tray. “Whatever you say, man.” He flashed me another quick grin. “Later, Angel.”
“I don’t like him,” Grey muttered, his hand curling into a fist on the table.
“If he looks anywhere below your neckline again, I’ll have to carve out his eyes,” Corvus added, the new skin forming over the puckered scar on his cheek, catching the fluorescent lighting. We’d taken the stitches out last night and it was looking a lot better.
“He saved your life,” I reminded him.
He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”
Rook sat back in his chair, letting his coin roll over his tatted fingers as he watched Drake walk away. “I kind of like him,” he said, making Corvus and Grey balk.
“Don’t you, Ghost?” he asked me with a knowing gleam in his eyes.
I lifted my tray from the table, heat rushing up my neck. “I’m going to see Becks,” I said, dodging the question. “I’ll be back by the bell.”
I heard Grey hiss something nasty at Rook that I didn’t catch and listened to the throaty sound of Rook’s laugh as I left the cafeteria, feeling the itch for a good long run.
“Oh my god, did you get this?” A girl by the elevator asked the guy standing next to her, and I hesitated when the doors pinged opened. “Check your school emails. There’s no way this is real, right?”
“I got it, too! They don’t mean Corvus like the Corvus, right?” the guy asked, and I dropped my tray, breakfast forgotten.
The girl looked up at the clattering sound of the tray hitting the tile and startled when she saw me coming, cringing back into the wall, sinking low into a ball, her phone outstretched to me.
“Hey, whoa,” the guy next to her said, lifting his hands, getting in my way.
I decked him in the jaw, sucking in a breath at the sting in my still-bruised knuckles as he careened to the right, tripping to keep his footing.
“What the fuck,” he groaned, his mouth sounding like it was full of marbles.
I took the phone from the girl’s hand and lifted it to my face, scrolling back up to the top of the email on the screen.
“What is this shit?” I asked, nudging her with the toe of my boot.
“I don’t know!” she wailed. “I swear, it just came to my phone.”
The email was a photocopy of an old newspaper. Almost twelve years old.
The headline jumped out on the screen in bold text.
CULT KILLINGS: FIVE DEAD IN brUTAL SLAUGHTER
What the fuck was this?
All around me, students paused on their way to breakfast and classes, their devices pinging as the email was circulated.
I scrolled lower on the screen, my pulse racing as the gruesome image of a crime scene devoid of bodies but not of blood screamed at me in black and white.
It was a child’s bedroom. Complete with train-patterned sheets, tiny toy cars, and a starscape nightlight.
The entire thing was coated in blood. It puddled on the mattress, soaked into the carpet.
Splashed over the wallpaper. A tiny dark handprint was left on the floor near the base of the bed. A child’s handprint.
My stomach turned.
I scrolled lower, reading the first few lines before I had to force myself to stop.
It was a brutal scene in east Lennox this morning when the bodies of married couple Francine and Douglas Adler were found in their home along with Douglas’ brother, Chris Adler, and their eight month old son, Emmanuelle.
They are survived by their eldest son, who was admitted to Lennox General this morning with only minor injuries.
Authorities suspect the killings were part of a cult ritual due to the nature of the deaths and the ? —
I couldn’t bring myself to read any more.
Bile rose up the back of my throat.
Emmanuelle.
The tattoo on Corvus’ chest.