A Blade So Black, Page 5

  Her mind made up, she relaxed a little. This was for the best. For her family. There was no arguing with that. Still, she sighed and tried to ignore the twist in her chest.

  She was going to miss him.

  Four

  UNDATE

  “Oh my gawd, you’re bananas.” Courtney shoveled a helping of peas into her mouth, the plastic spoon coming away stained neon pink like her lipstick. “You’re seriously going to bail on the best job ever? Taking tests by day, fighting monsters by night. You’re pretty much a black Buffy.”

  “Thanks? Or just Buffy. Whatever.” Alice lowered her voice, glancing around the cafeteria as she toyed with the top on her soda. Maybe talking about her plans to retire before actually retiring wasn’t such a good idea. “She died. Repeatedly. Remember?”

  “Well, if anything happens, you have Maddi.”

  “And?” Yeah, Maddi was pretty powerful. Still not revive-the-dead powerful, though.

  “And you literally save the world at least two times a week.”

  “Not the world—”

  “Aaddahdahdah!” Court gestured for silence with her pink spoon. “If you didn’t help Hatta slay these things, we’d all be in serious shit.”

  “I’m the one who does the slaying in this relationship, so he helps me.”

  Court slid her a side-glance. “So you admit it’s a relationship?”

  “Partnership,” Alice emphasized.

  “Whatever-ship. Addison Hatta is six kinds of hot, two of which are illegal in some states. Where did I go wrong with you?” Court narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. Thus began her almost daily recounting of the many reasons Alice should try and talk to Hatta. Court had made it her mission to improve Alice’s love life. Or torment her endlessly. Same thing.

  “There’s nothing wrong with the way things are.” Alice stole a baby carrot from Court’s plate. “Plus he’s old. Like, centuries old.”

  “As the late great Aaliyah said, age ain’t nothin’ but a number.”

  “Girl, I got you into Aaliyah. Don’t be using her against me.”

  “He looks young,” Court continued. “Which is what counts.” She nodded as if her words sealed the deal. “You’ll be eighteen in, like, six months anyway, so it’s fine if you get started—”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Alice cut in. “We’re … just friends. Which is cool.” Hatta was her mentor—the Splinter to her Leonardo, the Obi-Wan to her Luke. No chance they would ever be something more. Plus her mother would obliterate them both.

  “Blasphemy.” Court jabbed the business end of her spoon in Alice’s direction. With her frost blond pixie cut and full face of makeup, she looked more model than menace. “If this were ancient times, wars would be waged for that gorgeous piece of man meat.”

  “Man meat.” Alice ticked an eyebrow over the rim of her Pepsi bottle. She brought it from home, where Mom usually kept a stash, just like Granny used to. Hard to find anything but Coke around here, and Mom’s side of the family were Pepsi people, a closely guarded secret. “You just said the phrase man meat.”

  “Yes, I did. I own that. And you are forbidden to be ‘just friends’ with someone so dangerously delicious.”

  Alice shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Imaginary relationships aside, I’ve already thought about what not being a Dreamwalker anymore might mean. Not seeing him. But it’s not personal. I mean, it is, but not like that. It’s family.” She sighed and sank down in her chair a little. “Last night Mom got really upset when I got home. I was in Wonderland and missed her calls. She saw another story about Brionne, I guess, and started talking about how I’m all she has left and she’s scared something will happen to me, even when I’m being careful and following the rules. She’s not wrong. You know how it is. There’s no right way to be but dead in these situations.”

  Court frowned, fidgeting with her spoon. “That’s heavy.”

  “Mmm. She’s been like that since Saturday. Most of the neighborhood has, if I’m being honest.”

  “’Cause of the girl killed at the game?”

  “Brionne,” Alice insisted.

  “Brionne, sorry.”

  “And yeah. I mean, I like kicking ass and taking names, but I been thinkin’ ’bout what’ll happen to Mom if something happens to me, too. Her and a bunch of ladies at church were all ‘it could’ve been my baby,’ and they’re right.” Alice shook her head, and stared up, at nothing really. “Folk ready to shoot me for being who I am. I mean, I could die walking down the street in the wrong color T-shirt. Why add monster hunting to that?”

  “’Cause you’re a badass.” Court took another bite from her plate.

  Alice stole another baby carrot. She’d already finished two slices of pizza and a turkey sandwich. “I’m serious.”

  “Me too!” Court licked her spoon, then dug around with it in the bottom of an obviously empty yogurt cup. She concentrated on scraping together about a pinkie nail’s worth of strawberry banana. “I can’t pretend to know what this is like for you. I’m sorry for Brionne. For her family. That this happened. Again. But I don’t know what to say other than I’m here. As a shoulder to cry on or scream into about anything. Shit with your mom. Racism. Fucking white people.”

  Alice snickered, though her gaze shot around the cafeteria again. “Really?”

  “Oh yeah.” Court tossed the cup and the spoon onto her tray. “Have you met any? They’re a mess. They only believe, like, in three seasonings.”

  Now she laughed.

  “And one of them is pumpkin spice.” Court lifted a manicured finger.

  Alice doubled over, her face pressed to the table as she howled.

  “Tell me I’m wrong!”

  “No, stop! I can’t!”

  By the time Alice could breathe again, a few people were staring and Court sat with her chin on her folded hands and a smug look on her face.

  Alice stifled another snicker. “I dunno, you and Chess are pretty cool.”

  “And you’re amazing.” Court squeezed Alice’s fingers.

  “I hear my name?” A chair scraped the ground to her left, and Chess dropped into it. “And that I’m pretty cool?”

  “As far as white people go,” Court added before eyeing him across the table. “How many spices can you name?”

  “Um, what?” He sank against the back of the chair, long legs sprawled under the table, oddly colored eyes flickering back and forth between Alice and Court curiously. Chess had turned their duo into a trio sophomore year, but the violet tint in his gaze took Alice by surprise at least twice a week.

  “Court was just going on about how ridiculous white people are for pumpkin spice.” Alice shook her head.

  Chess snorted. “Hard truths.”

  “Always.” Court shoved her tray aside and dug into her designer backpack.

  “Forget targeting the economy or our infrastructure. If anyone managed to kill the pumpkins, America would fall in a week. Panic in the streets.” Chess gestured questioningly at Alice’s half-empty soda bottle.

  She handed it over. “I hear no lies. Hell, I like pumpkin. Except pie. Sweet potato all the way.”

  Chess took a few swigs, then handed the bottle back with thanks.

  “I’m a salted caramel mocha girl, myself.” Court fished out a compact mirror. After generously reapplying a layer of psychedelic lipstick, she blew a kiss at her reflection. “Hopefully, that means I’d survive the fall of the western world.”

  Court always looked flawless: shoes, clothes, and especially makeup. Alice couldn’t help being jealous sometimes. She’d yet to find a foundation that didn’t turn her gray or orange. There were so many choices for light complexions—all with sassy names like Honey-Tan, Beige Bomb, or Pearl—but usually only a handful for her skin tone: all named some variation of Dark. Dark Chocolate, Dark Onyx, just Dark.

  ‘Cause I need reminding.

  A hand landed on her shoulder, squeezing. “Alice.”

  She shook herself free of her though
ts, turning to face a frowning Chess. “Say what, now?”

  “I was…” He trailed off, pitching a glance at Court—who watched the two of them from behind her mirror, pretending to inspect her brows—then back. “I asked if you wanted to see the new Black Panther tonight. Supposed to be better than the last one.”

  Alice froze. Her throat closed up and something heavy in her chest pulled her heart toward her stomach. She was fiendin’ to see that movie, but she’d promised her dad she’d see it with him first and—he wasn’t here to go with her. Not anymore. Not to see this or any other movie, ever again.

  Unable to speak for a whole new reason, Alice stumbled over a few ums.

  Chess’s hand slid down her arm, his frown deepening. “You okay?”

  “She can’t,” Court offered, clipping her compact shut. “Birthday business.”

  He straightened in his chair, eyes on Court. “Your birthday’s tomorrow.”

  “I know, but we have this tradition where we spend the day before shopping, then she sleeps over at my place. Plus we have to make sure everything is ready.” Court went on about the venue (which was just a fancy way of saying her house), the food, the DJ, even the custom invitations she sent out weeks ago. This year’s theme was Haunted Masquerade Ball. Court loved Halloween and always threw parties Alice would describe as scream-queen chic.

  Chess arched an eyebrow, effectively distracted. “You can’t just say ‘costume party,’ can you?”

  “Chester,” Court gasped, clearly affronted. Chess flinched slightly at the use of his gov’ment name. “This isn’t some party. It’s an event.”

  Thankful for the save, Alice took that moment to swipe at her eyes and swallow the fist jammed in her throat. Relief and guilt battled for dominance inside her. She hadn’t meant to lock up like that.

  Court was still talking, going over her full plan for Operation B-Day: the big One Eight. She’d moved on to playlists and coordinating outfit changes. Some brides didn’t even put this much thought into their weddings.

  Chess nodded slowly, his eyes somewhat glazed. He made the occasional sound of interest or affirmation, but he’d obviously checked out.

  Alice smirked. “We could plan for Sunday,” she managed, cutting off Court’s rambling.

  Chess blinked out of his stupor. “Sunday?”

  “Sunday night, after we’ve all recovered from Carnival de Courtney.”

  Court scoffed. “If you recover.”

  A smile stretched Chess’s face. “Sunday it is.”

  “It’s a date,” Alice said, then her eyes widened and she swatted the air as if she could catch the escaped words. “But not a date date. Just a day when planned things happen.”

  “An undate, then.” Chess nodded. “I can dig it.” He shifted his attention to Court. “Back to birthday business, then?”

  “Actually, we should hit the little girls’ room before the bell or we’ll get crowded out.” Court put her stuff away and swung her bag onto her shoulder.

  Alice rose, tray in hand. “Catch you after school?” she asked Chess.

  “Sounds like a plan,” Chess said as the three of them maneuvered their way to the end of the cafeteria, dumped what remained of their meals, and added their trays to the growing pile.

  They split at the hall into the main building, Chess promising to text as he headed for the science wing.

  “Sooooo.” Courtney dragged the word out as the two of them made for the bathroom. “A date.”

  “An undate,” Alice corrected. “Thanks for the save back there.”

  “Of course. This won’t help your Hatta situation.”

  “There’s no situation to be helped or hurt.” Alice sneaked a glance at her phone, less than eager to have this conversation. Again.

  A message from Hatta stood out on the screen.

  Checking in. Did you—

  The screen went black. A white pinwheel twirled at the center.

  Great.

  “I hope you’re not making a habit of ignoring me,” Court grumbled.

  “What?” Alice glanced up right into her friend’s irritated face.

  Smack in the middle of five gorgeous girls, Courtney Marroné grew up struggling to be seen and heard among her sisters. She tended to take it personal when people spaced out on her, even if by accident.

  “Sorry, was trying to answer a text from Hatta, but my phone died.”

  Court’s frown morphed into an annoying and knowing-but-oh-so-wrong smirk.

  The bell rang and kids flooded the hall, saving Alice from explaining for the hundredth time how it wasn’t like that.

  “Come on, or we’ll get stuck at the back of the line.” Court pulled her into the flow of bodies. She had a point. Teachers didn’t view girls’ room gridlock as a valid excuse for being tardy.

  Alice tucked the phone in her pocket. She wouldn’t be able to charge it again until after school. That meant she would have to use the mirror Hatta gave her to find out what he needed.

  Perfect …

  Five

  LOOSE ENDS

  After the final bell, Alice pushed through the throng of student bodies to reach her locker. She took a moment to swap out books, pitching glances over her shoulders. Everyone seemed occupied enough.

  Reaching past a few books, she knocked three times against the small mirror hanging at the back and whispered, “Open my eyes.”

  Like Hatta’s mirror, the surface rippled and swirled before Hatta’s face appeared. He smiled. “Afternoon, luv.”

  “Got your message, but my phone died.”

  “Message?” He cocked his head to the side while his gaze roamed the room as if searching for a lost thought.

  “Yes. The text you sent.” She huffed a sigh and rolled her eyes. “I couldn’t get the details.”

  “Details. Devils. Always hiding. I think I may have uncovered the reason why we’ve had so many visits from our friends lately.”

  Friends, code for Nightmares whenever Alice was in public and they couldn’t speak freely. She threw a couple glances over her shoulder, then looked back to the mirror. “And?”

  He glanced over his shoulder as well. “Excuse me a moment.” Then he … ducked. The angle drifted, leaving her staring at the ceiling. He must have set the mirror down.

  Rude. Alice peered up and down the hall. No one noticed her talking to the back of her locker yet. She shifted closer to the locker. “Hatta,” she hissed. “Yo, Hatta. Hat. Ta!”

  The top of his head popped back into view, but only so far as his nose. “Who said that?” Something shattered in the background.

  “Me. You—you okay? What was that?”

  He looked around again. “What was what?”

  She huffed through her nose. “Look, I’ll see you in a few. You lucky I planned on coming in anyway.”

  His attention returned to her, brows lifting. “Oh really?” The mirror righted itself, revealing the rest of him. His smile returned full force. “What for?”

  She chewed at the inside of her cheek. “To talk. ’Bout stuff.”

  The corners of his mouth crooked slightly, lending a sly twist to his grin. “Stuff.”

  “Mmmm-yup.” She lowered her gaze briefly. “I gotta go. Ride’s waiting on me.”

  “Ahh. Then I’ll see you soon, luv.” He bowed his head and his image faded, swirling out of sight before the mirror solidified into a plain mirror once again. Alice’s reflection stared out at her. She bit back a groan and slammed her locker shut, twirled the lock, and followed the waning flow of students through the doors.

  Chess waited at the bottom of the stairs, his wide grin stretching into place when he spotted her. “Hey. Where’s the birthday girl?”

  “Probably powdering her nose.” She tilted against him with a dramatic sigh of exhaustion. He draped an arm over her shoulders and settled against the huge stone banister with his own sigh. Warmth spread from where he held to her lightly. Part of her shouted to pull away. Another part noticed how good he smelled, l
ike fresh rain and mint, and suggested she press closer. She ignored them both and just watched him, watching her. She cleared her throat and glanced out over the grounds as other students filed past.

  “Soooooo got a costume picked out for Courtney’s party?”

  Chess grinned. “You mean the ball?” He put on a posh accent.

  Alice waved a hand. “The event.”

  He chuckled. It vibrated through her, and she felt a faint shiver slide up her back. “I’ll probably just slap a glow-in-the-dark sticker on a T-shirt and go as Tony Stark or something.”

  “Slacker.” Alice rested her head on his shoulder. “You should’ve let me know; I woulda made you a costume.”

  Surprise lifted his brows. “You make costumes?”

  She shrugged, fidgeting with the hem of her Triforce T-shirt. “Not really. I mean, I haven’t for a minute. I’m only making one for Court’s party, but I used to cosplay a bit.” That was an understatement. She would put hours upon hours into her cosplays, making sure to get every little detail just right. If you’re gonna do a thing, you do it right, Dad used to say, even if that thing is costumes. He got her into it. Into all her geekery stuff.

  “Really?”

  She nodded. “That was before we met.”

  “Why’d you stop?”

  That sinking feeling from earlier in the lunchroom came back. Alice swallowed the tart taste coating her tongue. “It was something I did with my dad. I stopped after he passed.”

  “I’m sorry.” Chess squeezed her shoulders.

  “It’s cool.” She breathed through the tightening of her insides.

  “What’re you going as? To Courtney’s ball.”

  Heat filled Alice’s face. She glanced away. “This character from a show I used to watch.”

  “Which was?” he pressed, shaking her a little.

  She cut him a look. “Princess Serenity. From Sailor Moon.”