Feather Bound (29 page)

She, Ericka and Hyde crowded around me. Dad squeezed my arms, looking like he'd aged about twenty years since last night, when I finally woke him up to what was happening around him. “Honey, are you OK?” He started to swivel me around, checking for bruises, but I put up a hand to stop him.

“Yeah I am, just one last thing.” Running, I caught up with Anton and his escorts, yelling for them to stop.

Anton glared at me with his hands behind his back and his disheveled blonde hair tumbling every which way over his face. The ugliness in his scowl could have sliced a butterfly in midair. “What do you want now, bitch?”

I thought of that face peering at me from other side of Stylo's
steel bars. “Just this.” I punched him in the face. Just once. I didn't want to be charged with assault. Still, it landed and landed well. The blood dripping down his nose sent wonderful tingles through me.

“OK. Take him away boys,” I said, ruining a perfectly good moment. One of the cops rolled her eyes and hauled Anton off. I turned to the congregation, peering at the baffled faces and for the first time in what felt like forever, my breaths turned slow and easy. I shut my eyes and let a calm sigh pass through my half parted lips, only to break out into a stream of giggles. Finally.

Finally.

“Well, it's been fun everyone!” Ade waved before skipping to my side. Dad and Ericka followed, François bouncing around in Ericka's arms while Charles looked on, pale-faced and baffled. Hyde stood at the center of a swarm of reporters, but he winked at me, telling me it was OK to leave him with a flick of his smile. I nodded.

“All right, all.” Ade was positively giddy. “Move out.”

She just couldn't help herself.

EPILOGUE

 

Ade and Ericka sat on the couch, François fast asleep in the portable crib upstairs. I sat on the floor, my back to the TV because I'd already heard the news a thousand times: the Hoffer-Rey scandal – blackmail and extortion and sex crimes oh my. Edmund's embezzlement case wasn't going so well for the defense. And while Edmund had already made sure to cover his own ass ten years ago, the rumors of his dealings with shady criminal organizations and sex trafficking were enough to ruin his life forever. Like father, like son.

But the Davis family had chosen not to worry about that for the time being. Though we'd had our fair share of reporters digging through our trash, in the four weeks that had gone by, the press had become less and less interested in the Brooklyn family who lived in their narrow yellow house, a couple of narrow yellow houses down from a Chinese restaurant.

Dad dropped a newspaper down on the table, pointing at the news that'd been shoved into a corner of the page, all buried in the scandal.

“‘Hyde Hedley, son of Ralph Hedley and reinstated senior executive of Hedley Publications starts an International Counseling Program for Survivors of Swan Slavery',” Ericka read, leaning over carefully so as not to spill her hot chocolate.

Crossing her legs, Ade plucked the mug out of Ericka's hands and sipped the chocolate generously. “Well, he did say he was going to do something substantial with all that cash.”

“It was my idea,” I clarified.

Tilting her head, Ade gave me a sidelong, teasing glance. “Pretty great, though, eh Dee?”

I touched the words on the page and smiled.

Really, it was just the beginning.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

 

There're a lot of people I want to thank for helping me bring my debut book out into the world. I guess I have to start at the beginning, because before a girl can publish a book, she has to love to write.

Thank you to my brothers, Chris and David, whose unabashed geekery, in too many ways, nourished my love of storytelling.

Thank you to my fourth grade teacher, Mrs. Spratt, who, after reading my short story about gargoyles (inspired by the awesome cartoon), told me I had a gift for writing. I still have the comment slip.

Thank you to my fifth grade teacher, Ms. Braun, who let me stay in and finish my first book when I should have been outside for recess (I never liked physical activity anyway).

To Tracey Martin, who beta-read the first draft of this book, and the pit crew who were there when the world of writing caused many a headache. Thank you for listening to me whine.

To my wonderfully supportive agent, Natalie Lakosil, as well as my editor Amanda Rutter and the rest of the fabulous Strange Chemistry team. All of you helped make my dream a reality.

To my loved ones across the oceans. But especially, to my mother, Margaret, who never stopped encouraging me. And to my father, Patrick, who I wish were here to share this joy with me. Thank you all, endlessly, for your love and support.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Sarah grew up in Southern Ontario writing stories about freakish little girls with powers because she secretly wanted to be one.

She is a huge fangirl of anything from manga to science fiction/fantasy lit to Japanese Role Playing Games… but if she has to, she will swear up and down that she was inspired by Jane Austen at book signings. She imagines it sounds better than Chrono Trigger.

On top of being a YA writer, she is currently completing a PhD in English, because she communicates via literary narratives, and also the sight of blood makes her queasy (which crossed medical school off the list).

and a member of the Osprey Group

 

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www.strangechemistrybooks.com

Strange Chemistry #31

 

A Strange Chemistry paperback original 2014

1

Copyright © Sarah Raughley 2014

 

Sarah Raughley asserts the moral right to be

identified as the author of this work.

 

A catalogue record for this book is available

from the British Library.

 

ISBN: 978 1 90884 489 7

Ebook ISBN: 978 1 90884 491 0

 

Set in Meridien and Dirty Headline by Argh! Oxford

 

Printed and bound by CPI Group (UK) Ltd, Croydon, CR0 4YY

 

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced,

stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any

means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or

otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

 

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by

way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or

otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior consent in

any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is

published and without a similar condition including this

condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

 

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and

incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination.

Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or

localities is entirely coincidental.