* * *
It was nearly eleven-thirty, and I had to be at work at noon. I worked at the Regal Cinemas on Cortez, a ten-minute drive from our apartment if the traffic wasn't bad. Which it always was. Jude said that in the summer, there was no traffic in Bradenton at all. Once all the "snowbirds" left, no one was left in Florida except the people who lived there full time. Snowbirds were rich, old people who came to Florida during the winter to escape the snow up north. Since Jason, Hallam, and I had only lived in Bradenton since November, I had never witnessed a summer in Bradenton.
Bradenton was a very, very big town compared to Bramford, West Virginia, where I grew up. However, according to most people, it was a relatively small place. It was located about forty-five minutes south of Tampa and twenty minutes north of Sarasota, on the west coast of Florida. The rent there was a little cheaper than what you'd pay in Sarasota, which was why we'd decided to live in Bradenton. At the time, I wasn't in touch with my grandmother, who was insanely rich and lived in New Jersey, so we didn't think we'd have enough money to live in Sarasota.
When we first moved to Florida, we didn't really have much money. Hallam had a little bit of cash which he'd squirreled away. Jason and I had a fraudulent credit card. We were barely able to get enough money to move into a three-bedroom apartment. We got jobs as quickly as we could. Hallam insisted that both Jason and I finish high school, so we had to get jobs that wouldn't interfere with our studies. I started working at the movie theater, and Jason got a job waiting tables. Hallam, who was highly educated and British, somehow managed to swindle himself into a job as a professor at New College, the honors college of Sarasota. Both Hallam and I still had our original jobs. Jason, however, had been fired four times. He kept getting in fights. Currently, he had a job working at another restaurant, but he was in the kitchen, so he didn't have to deal with the public.
We had a very hard time at first, because we didn't have a car, so we had to rely on buses and on favors from co-workers. Sometimes it worked out, sometimes it didn't. Finally, Jason suggested that I should get in touch with my grandmother. She was my only living relative, besides my three adopted brothers.
I didn't want to contact Grandma Hoyt at first. I was worried that the Sons could use her to get to me, or that she might be in danger. After all, it was the Sons who had shot my parents. They didn't seem to have qualms about killing whoever got in their way. Jason and Hallam were sure that the Sons were out of the picture, so eventually I did.
Grandma Hoyt bought me a car, and started sending me a pretty decent allowance every month. It helped make our situation more comfortable, but I still worked, because I liked having the extra cash. Besides, with Jason working as well, if I stayed home, I'd be alone most of the time. I really didn't like being alone anymore. I got really freaked out when I was by myself in our apartment. I didn't know if I was really worried about the Sons busting in and shooting me or not. But I did know that I got very, very frightened, and I couldn't handle it.
So I worked. That afternoon, I was so hung over and miserable that I really wished that I didn't. But I dragged myself into the shower, got dressed, ate something, and went to work. The night before, I'd left directly from work and gone to the party, and I'd accidentally left my uniform in the staff workroom. When I arrived, Jude was waiting for me, holding my uniform.
"Girl!" he exclaimed. "I cannot believe you are standing!"
"Oh my God, Jude! How drunk did I get last night?"
Jude shook his head in awe. "You were wasted," he said. He handed me my uniform. "Better get changed. We've got to start slinging popcorn in two minutes."
"Ugh," I muttered, taking the uniform from him.
Jude was tall and very skinny. He was a quarter Cherokee, so he had dusky skin and dark eyes. Jude liked to wear heavy eyeliner, but at work, it was against the dress code, so Jude only wore a little bit. He also had three holes in each of his ears, plus a nose piercing. He had to take out all his piercings for work too. The theater couldn't do much about his hair, however, which he dyed various unnatural shades. Currently, his hair was electric blue. Last week, however, it had been bright orange. I'd seen it green, purple, and fire-engine red. Jude also made it a point to paint his nails. At the moment, they were purple and sparkly.
"Come into the bathroom with me while I change," I said. "I want to know everything about what happened last night."
"While you change?" Jude said.
"Yeah," I said. I took him by the arm and pulled him into the staff bathroom with me.
The staff bathroom didn't have stalls. It just had one toilet and a sink. It was for either men or women. Once inside, I locked the door, and pulled my shirt over my head.
"So where did you go?" I asked, folding my shirt and searching for my uniform polo.
Jude wasn't looking at me. He was staring at the floor, like he was embarrassed.
"I'm sorry," I said. "Does it make you uncomfortable that I'm taking off my clothes? I just thought ..."
Jude looked at me, grinning. "No, girl, you're fine," he said.
"Okay," I said.
Jude took a deep breath. "I wouldn't have left you if I thought you were so drunk," he said.
"I didn't mean to get that drunk," I said.
"You weren't when I left," he said.
"Left?"
"I didn't leave the party," Jude said. "I just started chasing this yummy boy with long blonde hair."
I unbuttoned my jeans and wriggled out of them. "And?"
"Oh, he turned out to be straight."
"Sorry."
Jude shrugged. "Whatev." He glanced at me and then looked away. I was making him uncomfortable. I needed to try to remember that being gay did not make Jude a girl. Maybe I was being rude. "So, what do you remember?"
"Not much. I remember looking for you, not being able to find you, and calling Jason."
"Oh yeah," said Jude, "your boyfriend's intense, isn't he?"
Intense? That was one way to put it. "How do you mean?"
"He hospitalized that guy. I've never seen anyone fight like that. He was like a machine."
Damn it. Why was Jason always getting in fights? "He had to go to hospital, huh?"
"Yeah. Broken ribs."
Ribs? "Damn it," I said, shaking my head. I thrust my leg into my uniform khakis. Jason had to stop this.
"You remember the fight?" Jude asked.
"No. Jason told me about it."
Jude nodded. "You don't remember anything, then?"
I shook my head. "Not really."
"Is that weird?" he asked. "I've never blacked out before."
"Neither have I," I said. I remembered drinking, but I really didn't think I'd had that much to drink. The whole thing was weird. I buttoned my khakis thoughtfully. "Jason said something about that guy outside the tent. Like he said something about me."
Jude raised his eyebrows. "What did he say?"
I was probably being paranoid. "Jude, you don't think I was like roofied or something, do you?"
Now that I was fully dressed, Jude was looking right at me. "Why would you think that?"
"Jason said that when he found me I was only wearing my bikini. And the guy told him to save him seconds."
Jude made a horrified face. "Eew."
"Yeah."
"Well, are you okay? I mean, do you think ...?"
"Oh, no. I'm fine. I mean, I don't think that happened. But maybe someone was trying?"
Jude crossed to me and hugged me tightly. "Omigod," he said. "I am so sorry. I will never leave you alone at a party again."
Work would have been torturous without Jude. He kept me laughing, whispering jokes about what the customers were wearing or saying when no one was looking. I really liked Jude. He was one of my favorite things about living in Florida. I'd always wanted to live someplace like this. Someplace warm. Near a beach. And being able to be close to Jason was a definite plus. Jason was my soul mate. Nothing could be too bad whenever he was around. B
ut in all honesty, my life was far from perfect anymore.
Six months ago, my biggest problem had been that I thought I was the oldest virgin on earth. I wasn't a virgin anymore, but sometimes, I almost wished I could go back to my life before. Then, my parents were alive, and I loved them. I lived in a busy, crowded home full of teenage foster boys, but I didn't realize how great it was to feel loved like that. I didn't realize how great it was to trust people implicitly. Now, I didn't trust anyone. I had nightmares a lot. I dreamed about my parents getting shot. I'd see it over and over again, in slow motion. The surprised look on their faces. The blood. The way their bodies had crumpled. In the worst dreams, the ones that always made me sit up straight in bed, screaming, I'd see Jason's face when he was shooting the members of the Sons who'd killed my parents. He looked determined and dangerous. Frenzied. Angry.
After that nightmare, Jason would rush into my room, and he'd be so sweet and comforting that I'd wonder how I could ever feel frightened of him. He was perfect. He was wonderful. He was mine. He wasn't scary.
But other times, when the dream didn't go that far, I wouldn't wake up without screaming, just seeing the image of my dead parents engraved on the back of my eyelids. And I'd think about other things. I'd think about Michaela Weem, Jason's crazy mother, who had screamed at me that together Jason and I would destroy things. She had told me that Jason was destined for violence on a grand scale. She had wanted me to kill Jason. Michaela Weem had believed that Jason was too dangerous to live. And she'd been able to convince a lot of people that she was right. I tried to tell myself she wasn't. I loved Jason more than life. I would die for him. I would kill for him. He was all that I had.
But Michaela had been right about one thing. Once. She'd told us that together Jason and I would "drive men mad." And we had. When we kissed, a whole group of the Sons had stopped shooting and completely lost their minds. If she'd been right about that, maybe she was right about... But no. No. Jason was not going to enslave the world. I didn't think that. I refused to think that.
Between freaking out about the Sons trying to kill me, reliving the trauma of my murdered parents, and worrying that my boyfriend was actually the anti-christ , my life was not exactly a cakewalk. I longed for the days when I worried about my history exam or whether girls at school were gossiping about me. All of that just seemed ridiculous and childish now. Sometimes, I felt very old. Jude was right. Jason was intense. Ever since he'd appeared in my life, everything had been intense.
That was why I liked Jude so much. He made me feel normal, like a regular teenage girl again. One who thought about parties and boys and make-up. I used to think that kind of stuff was shallow, but now I wished like hell it was all I thought about. I missed it. I felt like my innocence had been stolen or something.
Thanks to Jude, the six hours of my shift went by pretty quickly. Afterwards, we sat outside of the theater, drinking huge sodas . I was waiting for Jason to pick me up. We only had one car, and I hadn't wanted to monopolize it. Jude was just hanging out with me.
"You wanna go to that party at Rachel Kline's next weekend?" he asked.
"God," I said. "I'm not sure if I ever want to drink again."
Jude laughed. "I've heard that before."
"Hey!" I said. "I don't drink that much."
"You can hold your own, girl," said Jude, with a touch of admiration.
I rolled my eyes. "I just like to have fun. Is that so wrong?"
"You are fun," said Jude. "That's why I like you so much."
I'd always been such a goody-goody back in West Virginia. Now that I was free, I was able to make my own decisions. Hallam thought I was a teenage alcoholic, but then, Hallam didn't have a very high opinion of me. I was over-sexed. I drank too much. I didn't study enough. He was like the father I never wanted. Sometimes, I thought about packing up and moving to New Jersey to live with my grandmother. She had custody of my younger brother, Chance. But I didn't really think that Jason would be welcome, and there was no way I'd go anywhere without Jason. So I put up with Hallam, because I had to.
"Well, Jude," I said, "you're kind of fun, yourself."
"Kind of?" he said. "I am a blast, and you love it."
I laughed. Jude was a blast.
"So, party, then?" he asked.
"Maybe," I said. "I'll ask Jason if he wants to come. He might have to work, though."
Jude raised his eyebrows.
"Jason can come, right?"
"Keep him on a leash. He can't beat anybody else up."
I sighed. "I can't believe he did that."
"He was protecting you," said Jude. "It's sweet and all, and I understand, but didn't he get in a fight at school last week?"
"Yeah," I said, inwardly groaning. Jason had anger issues. "Speaking of Jason, where the hell is he?" He was at least ten minutes late.
"Call him," said Jude.
"I'll give him another minute or two," I said. "You don't have to wait if you don't want."
"Are you kidding? Of course I'm going to wait with you. I wouldn't let you sit outside the theater by yourself."
"Thanks," I said. But I remembered that earlier that day Jason had called Jude a jerk, and I wondered if it was a good idea for Jude to be there when Jason pulled up.
I scolded myself. It wasn't like Jason just started punching people for no reason. He had to be provoked. The guy he'd beat up last week at school, for instance, had been threatening some poor freshman girl and being really vulgar. To Jason's credit, he hadn't started the fight. He'd asked the guy to cut it out. The guy had started swinging. It was just really stupid to try to fight Jason. Jason was too good at beating people up.
"Maybe I will call him," I said to Jude. I got my phone out of my purse and selected Jason's name out of my recently dialed log. Holding the phone up to my ear, I waited while it rang.
Jason picked up. "Azazel."
"Hey," I said. "Are you coming to pick me up?"
"Crap," he said. "What time is it?"
I told him.
"I'm sorry," he said. "We've got a little situation here."
My heart started to race. A situation? It was the Sons, wasn't it? What had happened? "What?" I said, serious now.
"It's Lilith," he said.
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