These Vengeful Hearts Page 6

  It was like seeing Haley again for the first time, but through her art instead of the hard exterior she armored herself with. There were other pieces she’d created in the showcase, but my eyes kept trailing back to the flame. There was something about it that reminded me of Haley, while still feeling like it reflected a piece of me. Haley and I shared some common ground, but did that make us similar? The thought shook me. I had a purpose in the Red Court, and it wasn’t the power that appealed to me. But I didn’t know what had drawn Haley to the Red Court’s doorstep. If I was going to get closer to her, I needed to find out what had motivated her to join in the first place.

  “I was thinking of submitting a piece for the Winter Showcase this year,” Gideon said.

  I lifted a brow in imitation of him and waited.

  “I think some of the black-and-white shots I took are good. Maybe one of them might be good enough to win.” His tone was reserved. Entering something into the art showcase was a big deal. From the way he wasn’t exactly making eye contact, I could tell he was anxious.

  Gideon was as intelligent as they came, but he was also a talented photographer. During a recent trip into Denver’s industrial RiNo neighborhood, Gideon had spent hours wandering the streets and taking photos. He saw the world so differently from me and captured images of tumbledown buildings or stray dogs rummaging through the trash with the sort of naked honesty that made them painful to look at. The incident with the stray dogs led him to volunteer at an animal shelter. That’s what I loved about Gideon most. There was beauty to be found almost anywhere, but he also saw the ugly parts of life and never looked away. He did something about it.

  “Which one are you thinking?”

  He half shrugged. “Not sure. Next time you come over you can cast your vote.”

  I grinned as wide as my face would let me. Gideon was asking my opinion about photography. This development deserved a parade.

  “Don’t go congratulating yourself just yet. I said you can vote. I still have veto power.”

  “If you want my expert opinion, it’ll cost you. My time is very valuable. Or I could try to rig the showcase vote in your favor.”

  Gideon’s good mood vanished instantly, and I cringed. He was already nervous and making a dumb comment like that probably took a piece out of his confidence.

  Way to be a supportive friend.

  “I’m sorry. That was a stupid thing to say. I can’t make a joke to save my life. You’re so talented. You won’t need any help. Please forget I said anything.”

  He pursed his lips, chewing on his words. “Do you feel guilty about rigging the Homecoming election?”

  I rolled with the question, wanting to distance myself from my dumb comment. “Please. In ten years, no one will care who won.”

  The guilt I felt about Chase and his girlfriend weighed heavier on my conscience, but I’d deal with that later.

  “True fact. But what about the kid with the locker? You don’t feel any remorse in screwing with him and getting him involved in your scheme?” Gideon was checking his hair in the reflection of a glass trophy case, ensuring that each lock was placed where it should be. A needless exercise since he and his hair had a telepathic relationship wherein it did everything exactly as he requested.

  I grabbed the end of my ponytail. “I know it seems callous, but no one is forced to make deals with us. Everyone knows the price and they still ask for favors.”

  Gideon’s reflection rolled its eyes. “Whatever you say. Just thought someone needed to Jiminy Cricket you before it was too late.”

  “No worries. I don’t think I’m in any danger of turning into a donkey.” I chuckled.

  “You might make an ass out of yourself yet, but that’s not what worries me.”

  My laughter cut off abruptly. “What do you mean?”

  “This whole thing. The revenge part, too. You might win the game but lose yourself.”

  I turned away with a dismissive wave so he couldn’t see my face. My need to take down the Red Court seemed to occupy most of the space inside my body. Didn’t he know I’d lost myself to it a long time ago?

  I dragged my journal out of my bag as we made our way to the library.

  October 3

  When you’re made of fire, do you feel guilty watching other people burn?

  CHAPTER 9

  THE TRACK WAS EMPTY most Saturday mornings. I got up extra early to make sure I was the first one there. This time of year, the air was particularly brisk around dawn, but I let it clear my head as I started my warm-up lap on the track that wrapped around the football field. With my earbuds tucked in my ears, and the sun barely peeking over the horizon, I could pretend I was the only person alive. Some might be disturbed by this fantasy, but I found it comforting. There wouldn’t be anyone else to worry about except me.

  I was hitting my stride and softly singing along to the music blasting from my earbuds when I saw an unexpected familiar figure walking toward the track. I’d arranged to meet Haley at school later to work on our assignment. I would have time to shower and grab coffee beforehand.

  “Hi,” Chase said as I came to a halt in front of him. It was hard not to as he was standing in the middle of my track. Did he think he owned the track? He didn’t. I owned the track.

  “Hi. What are you doing here?”

  “I’m thinking about going out for track in the spring. Thought I should get some practice in.”

  “Of course you are.” Track tryouts were open to anyone in good academic standing. Maybe I could sabotage his grades and that would keep him off my track. I added that to my list of things to look into. If there was one thing I was certain of, it was that getting closer to Chase was a bad idea. Why couldn’t he do me a favor and go back to low-key hating me? My agitation was showing, but I couldn’t seem to tuck it behind the mask of indifference I once wore in front of him. “And why are you in my way?”

  He laughed his easy laugh. “Right now or generally?”

  “Both.” I stepped around him and started to run in earnest.

  He was smiling his stupid, handsome smile and jogged to catch up. “I can’t help myself. I just love being the thing standing between you and something you want.”

  “You know, you really shouldn’t run without getting warmed up first.” Gawd, that sounded obnoxious, even to me. Why couldn’t I just be polite and normal around Chase? He would leave me alone if I didn’t let him push my buttons.

  “I know. I’m risking a lot to talk to you, so maybe you should just stop so I don’t get hurt.”

  What was I supposed to say to that? Throw me on stage at a debate meet and I worked every event, but in front of some cute, infuriating guy, I was totally tongue-tied. I settled for a sneer and pushed my pace.

  After a few moments, he said, “I’ve been thinking about you.”

  This pulled me up short and I stopped to gape at him. Shut your mouth, Ember. You are not a fish. I snapped my teeth together with an audible click.

  Chase looked so unsure, so unlike his normal confident self. “The other day, in the hall, there was something, wasn’t there?”

  There certainly was. It was me playacting to get his girlfriend to dump him.

  He continued, “I thought I knew who you were, and after we talked, I realized I didn’t know you at all, but I wanted to.”

  “You followed me here?” I asked, half–creeped out and half-flattered. Good thing I had pepper spray on my key chain in case Charming Chase turned out to be Creepy Chase.

  “No! Well, maybe. I saw you out here by yourself a few weeks ago when I came to watch a soccer game. I was hoping to catch you.”

  I was officially confused. “I thought you hated me,” I blurted out. “Don’t you want to beat me at, like, everything we do?”

  Chase almost laughed but held it back at my glare. “True, but I also don’t hate you. I like
competing with you. You make me want to be the best.”

  The Red Court made me dangerous to know. I wished I could reset my relationship with Chase and send us back to a week ago when we were rivals and nothing more. “This makes no sense. We’re enemies. Act like it.”

  He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’m explaining it all wrong. You’re smart and talented and...beautiful.”

  And a liar, my mind added before I could shut the thought out. Haley’s warning came back to me. She would have my head if she knew. Hell, she probably already did. I’d bet I was somehow microchipped, and she was on her way to strip me of my Red Court membership and then bury me six feet under the bleachers as punishment.

  “I’m sorry, but this—” I gestured between us “—isn’t in the cards for me.”

  Literally. Not in the cards.

  “Oh,” he said and took a step back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t—I just thought maybe—God, I feel like such an idiot.”

  “Don’t,” I said and, for some reason, reached out and squeezed his hand. It was warm and I wanted to keep holding on to it, but I let go. “My life right now is insane. And this can’t happen for me.” And then because I had a death wish, I added, “Right now.”

  There was no going back with Chase. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, I was glad.

  He smiled hopefully and nodded his head. “I’ll let you get back to it, then.”

  He headed to the field on the other side of the bleachers so we wouldn’t technically be working out on the same track. I popped my earbuds back in and continued running, but my peace was shattered. There was no way I was going to find any rhythm with Chase in such close proximity and the knowledge that he thought I was beautiful knocking around in my mind.

  CHAPTER 10

  MY MEETING WITH HALEY was abruptly rescheduled with a terse text.

  Haley: we need to meet somewhere else

  Haley: there was some kind of leak in the theater room

  The Heller basement was known for occasional flooding. There never seemed to be enough in the budget to permanently fix anything.

  I considered our options. I couldn’t invite her over. Too many questions from my parents. And I wasn’t sure how April would react if she saw Haley, knowing who she was.

  Me: We could meet at the coffee shop. It wouldn’t seem out of place if we had books out.

  Haley: too risky

  Haley: my parents will be out tonight if you can come to my house at 6

  Going to Haley’s was the perfect way to learn more about her. I silently thanked whoever decided to underfund Heller’s maintenance department.

  Me: I’m missing out on lasagna night, but I can make it work

  Haley: ok

  The drive to Haley’s took me to the edge of town. Here the houses were small but sparse. Apparently, the cookie-cutter neighborhoods like mine hadn’t reached this far to swallow the land and spit out tidy grids of streets and two trees per lawn. Haley’s house sat on a trim square of grass, somehow a comforting piece of civilization in the untamed prairie landscape.

  I triple-checked the address before getting out of my car. The unfamiliar surroundings put me on edge. I didn’t know what I was walking into, and I mentally prepared for the unexpected.

  Haley answered the door before I could lift a hand to ring the doorbell. She had probably been watching me look from my phone to the numbers on the mailbox and cackling at my unease.

  “Thought you’d never get out of the car. A little too country for you?”

  I scoffed. “Hardly. I just don’t enjoy ringing strangers’ doorbells. Probably residual PTSD from selling Girl Scout cookies to weirdos.”

  “You would be a Girl Scout.”

  Haley ambled to the kitchen without further invitation, so I removed my shoes and coat and set them neatly on the hall bench near the door before following. The smells coming from the oven awoke my inner hunger monster and it let out a growl via my stomach. Notes of garlic and butter hung in the air, calling to me like sirens.

  “What are you cooking? It smells incredible.”

  “I’m trying out a recipe for zucchini rollatini. We’ll see how it goes.”

  The walls were covered in staged family photos and antlers. There wasn’t a trace of Haley’s personality anywhere. For someone so talented, it was odd that none of her pieces were displayed in her own home.

  “You can have some if you’re hungry.”

  My stomach leapt for joy. “That would be great.”

  The framed photos grabbed my attention. Why were there so many different families, but so few of Haley’s own?

  Haley noticed my confusion and said, “We have a lot of extended family that sends my mom photos. She likes to hang them on the wall, since we don’t have any recent ones.” She focused her attention back on her meal preparations. I added this fact to the list of things I knew about Haley for further consideration.

  I thought of my own house covered in a timeline of photos of me and April. We didn’t have any family portraits from the last few years, either, but even my embarrassing school pictures kept finding their way onto the mantel no matter how hard I tried to hide them.

  An awkward silence descended, growing more palpable by the second. I cleared my throat. “I can’t believe the theater room flooded again. I was wondering why we meet there and not the art room. You don’t do any performing arts, do you?” I asked.

  “Nope.” Haley brought a pan out of the oven. “The art room is taken. So is the gym, the lab, and the library. Teams are assigned workspaces so we don’t interfere with each other.”

  My mind began to spin. Had I ever noticed anyone odd in those spaces? Not really. It was a school and groups of students were clustered everywhere, working on team projects or studying for tests. Even most Saturday mornings the school was open thanks to play practice or business club meetings. The Red Court was hiding in plain sight and doing a damn fine job of it.

  “I inherited the theater from my partner when I was an underclassman. She was a theater geek. Next year it will be yours, when I’m gone. Do you have a problem with that?”

  “Not at all. It’s just funny being there again. I used to go there all the time when my sister was a student.”

  Haley nodded and pulled some plates down from a cabinet. “April, right?”

  My heart stuttered. “You know my sister?” I skated over each word smoothly, like it was a sheet of ice thin enough to fracture, pulling me down into the icy depths.

  Did Haley have anything to do with her accident? April was a senior when Haley was a sophomore. There was a chance it could have been Haley. A chance, but I didn’t want it to be. The official story of April’s accident was in the news. Heller went through massive safety evaluations after the fact. My family was even present when the official reports were given to the school. As far as anyone knew, April’s accident was the fault of unsecured rigging in the theater catwalks.

  “Not really. I was sorry to hear about her accident. My art class made cards for her when she was in the hospital.”

  Would someone responsible for April’s accident make her a card? I had a hard time believing even Haley could be that callous. But I didn’t know her that well.

  “How’s she doing?”

  “She’s a psychology major and works at the physical therapy center. She’s doing really well.” Despite what the Red Court did to her. I was doing my best to temper the instinct to close off where April was concerned. It was a struggle to wrest even the smallest tidbits into conversation through the protective layers of loyalty to my sister.

  “My first day at Heller, when I was a freshman, some guys were giving me a hard time and April stepped in. She helped me out. I’ll never forget that.” Haley dropped the guarded expression I’d come to expect. She looked so genuinely sorry. Was it an act or, for once, was I seeing her truth?
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  She looked away and I moved us to safer ground. “Why is none of your art on display? Don’t you want to set up your own showcase?”

  “It’s all in my room. Food’s ready.”

  Haley plated rollatini, salad, and crusty pieces of garlic bread and set them out for us on the counter. I settled on a stool and inhaled deeply.

  “This looks amazing. Thank you.” I took my first bite and flashed her a cheesy thumbs-up.

  Haley looked at me like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  “You’re supposed to say ‘you’re welcome,’” I whispered.

  She rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

  “Good effort.”

  From what I could gather, Haley’s whole life seemed to be art and the Red Court. Basic kindness shouldn’t have been anything major. Haley didn’t seem to have many people she could count as friends.

  We had just finished eating when headlights flashed through the windows.

  “My mom and stepdad are home early.” Haley’s stricken voice told me that this was not good news. I steeled myself for whatever was about to walk in, but still startled at the bang of the door flying open.

  A man, late forties by the look of his receding hairline and paunch, teetered in. “Who are you?” he asked when he caught me in his gaze. The sneer he directed at me felt foreign. Parents usually liked me.

  I did a double take at the wild-haired woman who came in next. She had to be Haley’s mom, though she could pass for an older sister. The only feature she carried that Haley didn’t was a deep parenthesis around her mouth from the frown she wore.

  I cleared my throat awkwardly to respond. “I’m Ember Williams. I go to school with Haley.”

  Without clear direction from Haley, I didn’t know if it was better or worse to identify myself as a friend. My being at their house might go over better if we were study partners working on a French project.

  “Is that right?” the man asked with yet another sneer. Did the sneer come out on its own as he talked? It seemed involuntary. Maybe it was some incurable condition. Or maybe he was just a jerk.