Sky Ghosts: All for One (Young Adult Urban Fantasy Adventure) (Sky Ghosts Series Book 1) (25 page)

The horse was trotting through the field again, but Chad only regarded it with a wistful look.

“What if it’s Lola’s ghost!” Pain whispered suddenly with fake astonishment. “Her spirit, guarding you!” she added in a mysterious voice.

He turned to her, holding back a smile with a disapproving look in his eyes.

“I really shouldn’t have told you any of this, should I?”

She showed her teeth.

“Absolutely not,” she said, unashamed.

He shook his head with a smile, returning his gaze to the window. He wanted to get out there so badly, he could almost feel it physically, like something was pulling him to the doors.

“Cha-a-ad… It’s me, Lo-o-la…” a soft whisper sounded beside him.

He smiled and shoved with his shoulder, not turning to look, but encountered only the empty air when Pain dodged to the left reflexively. He swayed, losing his balance, but in a second her hand was on his shoulder, steadying him. He glanced at her – she seemed amused, looking back at him with smiling eyes. And then Dave’s voice resounded off the barn walls.

“Hey, you two! We’re going to sleep down here, are you?”

Chad cursed silently, turning away from Pain.

“Comi-i-ing!” she called out and then added sourly, “…mom.”

It must have been the first time she agreed with Dave on something. She took Chad’s hand without asking this time and darted up, then descended back to the lodge.

They came back in. Jane was making their bed on the sofa, and Dave was sitting on his spread armchair, drying his wet black hair with a towel.

“I’m going to shower,” Pain said and disappeared behind the bathroom door with a towel in her hand.

Chad watched her go in and then turned his gaze to Dave. He came to stand in front of him and glared down until Dave looked up slowly, raising his eyebrows.

“Are you brain damaged or something…?” Chad grated.

Dave gagged.

“What? No, why?” he drawled, clearly uncomprehending.

Chad just shook his head without a word. He threw up his hands in speechless disappointment and went to his armchair.

“Hey!” Dave exclaimed and threw his wet towel at him.

“Forget it,” Chad caught and tossed it on the back of his armchair. He lay down and hugged the pillow as Dave got under the blanket with an exasperated noise. Jane didn’t seem to have noticed their little quarrel, engaged in getting ready for sleep. Everything was quiet around them, only the sound of running water in the bathroom creating a faint background to the barn’s still life. Soon Pain showed up from it and turned off the lamp, and so the third day at the barn was over.

As time went on, nobody bothered the four runaways in their new hideout. Peter called every evening to make sure everything was alright and to share the latest news, which was pretty scarce, though. Eugene still hadn’t contacted him, and the Beasts were absolutely quiet. There was no news from Peter’s man at the Beasts’ headquarters, either. Eugene was too smart to let Peter set the game rules. He made his own, and this time he had decided to wait.

By the fifth day at the barn everybody relaxed. If the Beasts hadn’t shown up until now, they obviously hadn’t tracked them down. Dave hadn’t lost his interest in training – despite Pain’s opinion that it was only because of his cowardice and the fear of another attack – and continued his lessons with Jane every day. During one of such sessions, while Pain was in the shower, he decided to start a topic which he had been curious about for a long time.

“Why had Marco become friends with you two?” he asked, a little out of breath.

Chad was watching them from a few yards away, sitting on a metal locker of unknown use and idly gnawing on a withered apple.

Swiftly, Jane lunged forward and knocked the sword out of Dave’s hand.

“What do you mean?” she asked as he walked away to pick up his weapon. “And why shouldn’t he?”

Dave picked the sword off the floor and walked back. In the dim light that filtered through the small windows, she looked like a pale phantom.
A hot, pale phantom,
he corrected himself, looking over her black shorts and narrow tank top. The sisters couldn’t wear gear during practice now, since there was no way to fix it. They had to go with their ordinary clothes, and it crept him out because every little scratch was visible on their bodies, dark-red against the pale skin.

He made an effort remembering what they were talking about.

“I mean, he doesn’t exactly strike as a kind of guy befriending girls.” He made a tentative lunge, and Jane caught his sword between her two, turning him around and kicking him lightly below his back. “Hey!” He scampered a few steps forward, crashing against one of the pillars and stopping there. “What did I say??”

She laughed.

“I hope you’re not going to repeat that with Pain around? That part about girls?”

“Okay, okay, I get it. Anyway, what had Marco found in you two?” He came back into the center of the room, turning the sword in his hand.

Jane shrugged.

“Marco is friends with everybody.” She pushed back a loose strand of hair and made a sign for Dave to strike first.

“Yeah, that’s true,” he grunted with satisfaction when he almost reached her with his blade. She nodded in approval. “But you two and Ryan seem to be his best friends.”

She shook her head with a chuckle.

“If somebody told me this a few years ago, when Marco had just joined us, I’d laugh to death. Or pass out.”

“What do you mean?”

She sighed and rested her hands on her knees, taking a break.

“When he was brought to us after our patrol found him drunk and passed out on some street among six dead Beasts, he was acting really wild. They explained to Marco where he was and offered him to join the organization, and he agreed. But he was keeping back from everybody, though I wouldn’t say anyone was dying to hang out with him, considering his appearance,” she grinned. “Aggression was his second self. And of course, he got to hating Pain from the very first encounter in the training hall. She was sixteen then and… well, you know how she is. She can be really mean and even arrogant sometimes. Back then she was far worse. Marco couldn’t know that she’s not a bad person, it’s just the way she behaves, especially, with someone new. And especially, when this someone has too much confidence, like him,” Jane smiled. “And Marco, he doesn’t really have much respect for anybody who’s not formidable enough. He mocks all short fighters all the time. So when he saw what she could do, I guess just the look of her annoyed him. Of course, he found a reason to pick on her right away, and she snapped back at him, so it all started…”

Jane came to the bench to pick up a bottle of water and take a swig.

“He would sting her for any tiny reason, and she would come back at him, so almost every day a bunch of gawkers would crowd to watch them bully each other. There were broken windows, chairs, flowerpots passed to trash every day. Everything was put to use.” She smiled crookedly. “Eventually, Peter found out about it. One day he came to the training hall where Pain and I were practicing along with a few other fighters, Marco included. He ordered them to swap partners so that Pain would practice with Marco. Of course, it couldn’t have provoked them more. Despite Peter’s presence and his… hmm, dissatisfaction with their behavior, they got more and more excited. In the end, Marco broke Pain’s arm, and Peter ordered them to stop. Well, actually, for the others to separate them. It turned out afterward that Marco had two broken ribs and a few bones cracked in his arms and feet. Peter didn’t say anything and just walked away.

“And to everybody’s surprise, the quarrels stopped after that. For a couple of weeks Marco and Pain didn’t talk to each other at all, but at least there weren’t any names between them. And as time passed, they got to talking normally, and then to training together. They both found it useful because Pain needed to learn how to fight big opponents, and Marco wasn’t fast enough for small ones like her. They would discuss their tactics from their first fight, and why any one of them shouldn’t have done this or that. Then they practiced it. We moved to the third floor, and then Ryan joined the organization. He was a newcomer, so Marco chose him for a partner because Ryan wasn’t intimidated by him yet.” She paused, wondering if Ryan could ever be intimidated by anyone, with those cold blue eyes and blade-sharp mind. “Since we practically grew up together, we got used to each other. But with Marco and Pain it’s even bigger, I think. Some kind of a connection established between them from those days. In just a couple of months they became best friends. I guess with people like them it all depends on respect, and after that fight in the training hall, it became mutual. Once they acknowledged their equality, they stopped challenging each other.”

She fell silent, taking in Dave’s expression. He looked lost deep in thought, and his eyes stared past her sightlessly. Her tired muscles groaned in protest as she stretched and went to pick up the swords that were leaned up against a pillar.

“And what about Marco’s past? Did he tell you anything about his previous life, before the organization?” he asked at last.

“Nope.” Jane stacked the swords’ hilts in her palm. “He never talked about it, even to Pain. We asked him a few times, but he never answered, so we all dropped it eventually. Some tried to track him down, but Pain…” she fumbled for the right word, “persuaded them otherwise. He’s a mystery to us,” she smiled wistfully and headed for the lodge. “I think it’s enough practice for today,” she added over her shoulder.

Dave nodded without a word, watching her go while Chad jumped off his seat and came up to him.

“Quite a story, huh?” He bumped him with his shoulder, passing by.

“Yeah…” Dave answered and followed Chad, his mind still lost in it.

He entered the room just as Pain came out of the bathroom in white shorts and a tank top, wiping her black hair with a towel. She looked so young without makeup and gear, so pale and thin and delicate, he would have easily mistaken her for a teenager in the streets. And she had been
sixteen
then. He doubted that Marco was any smaller back then, but she was. Dave stared at her now, trying to imagine her breaking Marco’s ribs. Marco, who seemed to weigh half a ton.

She noticed his glassy gaze and gave him a despising look.

“You’re staring at me,” she muttered. Dave only raised his eyebrows, not hearing what she was saying. “What are you staring at?” She stared back at him for a moment with her hands on her hips. “Pervert,” she concluded and began putting on her pants.

Dave came around with a bewildered face.

“What?”

“I said ‘pervert,’ pervert,” she responded, coming up to the lamp. “And don’t even think of dreaming about me,” she added, her voice exaggeratedly strict.

Behind her, Chad chuckled and got under his blanket. And then she turned the light off.

*

She stood high on a rooftop, her face hidden under the mask, her hair flapping in a harsh wind. It was cold, and fuzzy white snowflakes drifted around, caught in abrupt gusts every now and then and carried away helplessly. Pain seemed to be watching them, mesmerized by this chaotic dance of white against the violet-black sky. Chad wondered if she felt the freezing winter air around them in her gear. It was cold beyond measure for him. Maybe he should have worn something more solid, but he didn’t even know what he was wearing and how he had got here and why.

He stepped closer to the low wall that ran along the edge, and peeked over it. The streets below looked familiar, blinking with their yellow windows, citizens going to sleep one by one. Brooklyn, he guessed. Streets, rooftops, wires were covered in white. Somewhere down there a car honked when someone forgot to go at a green light. He shivered and saw that she was looking at him over her shoulder.

He headed to her then, and she turned away, waiting for him to come up.

“What are we doing here?” he asked over the sound of his sneakers squishing the snow that clung to the roof surface in spite of the blowing wind.

She didn’t answer. He could see that some of the snow had already gathered on her shoulders, hood, arms that were folded on her chest. She breathed steadily, and white clouds of air appeared and vanished in front of her every now and again.

“Pain, it’s freezing. Let’s get back inside.”

He didn’t know where inside. The building looked totally unfamiliar to him, and yet he had said it that way, as if he knew what he was talking about. He mused upon his own words for a moment, feeling something slip away from him as he tried to understand what was going on.

“We can’t go back. You can’t. And I can’t let you go in there,” she responded, not taking her eyes off the city below.

“Why, are we going to just stand here, then?” he asked, confused.

“No,” she answered quickly, and her voice was serene and sure.

“Then let’s get going wherever we have to, because I can’t feel my fingers already,” he suggested and took her by the shoulder, turning her to face him.

She obeyed and stepped closer, unwinding her arms and tipping her head back to look at his face. Her expression was concealed from him, and he wished she would lower that mask. Only her eyes were visible, and they were bright and smiling. Something flickered in one of her hands as she straightened them at her sides, but he was looking at her face then.

She finally answered.

“But we’re not going anywhere,” she shook her head slightly and placed her left hand on his chest. “We’re here for a reason.”

Chad frowned, confused. Why was she being like this, talking in puzzles? He had never seen her act this way before.

“What reason?” he asked with a shrug.

She drew her right hand back, and moonlight reflected off the knife she was holding against his stomach.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered – and drove the blade home.

*

Chad gasped for air, coming around in utter darkness. The sound of his own breathing filled his ears, being the only disturbance in this silence. He pressed a hand to his chest, as if to make sure he was intact, and felt the fluttering of his heart under it. As he glanced around in confusion, it slowed down a bit. Somehow he understood that he was still in the lodge inside the barn, though it was impossible to make out anything in this blackness around him.

As his eyes adjusted, he saw the dim outlines of the furniture, illuminated by some of the moonlight from the doorway and the microwave’s display that shone green in the corner. It showed two AM. Without realizing what he was doing, he pulled upright and staggered to the sofa, only to fall to his knees at Pain’s side of the bed. She was sleeping on her side, her face turned away from him, so he reached out and touched her shoulder.

“Pain, wake up,” he whispered, leaning close to her. He was vaguely aware of Jane, who slept peacefully on the other side of the bed, and he didn’t want to wake her up. His fingers closed on Pain’s slender shoulder. “It’s me, wake up, please,” he repeated when she stirred.

She rolled onto her back with a startle, blinking at him dizzily.

“What?” her lips moved in the darkness. “What’s wrong?” her voice was low and throaty, but somehow the sound of it seemed reassuring at the moment, bringing him back to Earth.

“I need to ask you something. I had a dream, and I…” He shook his head. “I can’t sleep.”

He sank lower on his knees as she heaved herself into a sitting position, careful not to rock the bed under her sister. She blinked in confusion as she took in the picture of him, at least as much as she could see in the dark.

Once she saw a set of photographs on some website – they were cemetery angels, grave statues gathered from around the world. They were all beautiful in the saddest way: their features withered away with time, their white marble streaked with dirt and covered in leaves, their feathery wings chipped off here and there. There was so much in those photos, especially, with the purpose that the statues served, those sorrowful stone creatures on top of people’s graves. She could never forget them.