I choked out a laugh as he pulled me into a hug. He smelled like coffee, like home.
“They took your hair,” he said. There was a kind of grayness to his voice, all ice and stone.
“I think what they probably really wanted was a feather cloak,” I said wearily. “So ha. Assholes.”
“Who did this? Seems a bit much for Renards, doesn’t it?”
“I don’t know.” Cutting off my hair was blood-feud behavior. The rest was just way out of proportion. And much too public. “I didn’t recognize them at all.” The balaclava masks hadn’t helped of course. “We’ve got nothing to go on beyond two guys and a van. And that they know about us.”
“It’s enough. We’ll track them,” he promised. I’d never seen him like this, dark and violent. If he was a match, he’d have set the road on fire already. “I’ll find them.”
“Aunt Aisha is going to lose her shit.” And they’d effectively ruined my first date with Edward. I might just lose it, too.
“Let’s see what we can find out before there’s an all-out war.”
I made sure Rosalita was okay and that Story and Mei Lin were there to look after her when the drugs made her fall asleep on the pavement. They looked at my hair, horrified. Tears welled in Story’s eyes. “Don’t,” I said sternly, because I couldn’t give in to any reactions yet. “I’m fine.”
“She’s more than magic hair,” Pierce snapped, grabbing my hand and dragging me to his truck. I could have kissed him.
Wait, no. I’d already done that today.
I stifled a giggle. He raised an eyebrow. “Are you in shock? Because none of this is particularly funny.”
I swallowed another giggle. “I know. Sorry. Let’s just go.”
He blasted the truck heater on my legs until my knees turned pink. “People in shock get cold. Are you cold?”
“I’m okay. Can you seriously track a van in a truck?”
He stared through the windshield. “I’m sure as hell going to try.” He reversed and turned out of the school parking lot. “They went this way after you bitch-slapped them with that storm. Epic, by the way.”
“Thanks.”
“They burned rubber turning over there.” He drove slowly and I kept quiet, texting my dad just in case word reached him before I got back home. I looked up when Pierce turned right. “Knocked over garbage can,” he explained. “And tire tracks in the grass.”
“You’re kind of awesome right now.” I could still say stuff like that, right? It wasn’t weird now, was it? Not for the first time I wished magic made things easier instead of harder.
“Want to see true tracking genius?” He pulled up to the curb and rolled his window down. “Have you seen a van pass this way?” he asked a woman walking her dog.
“Hard to miss,” she replied. “Tore past here toward the hospital, I think. That’s usually why people go Mach speed on this street.”
“Thanks.”
He pulled up to the hospital and stopped. There were too many cars, too many flashing lights, too much information to read properly. “Damn it.”
“It’s still more than we had before,” I pointed out, texting my aunt. “And now Aunt Agrippina can see if anyone checked themselves in. Though I don’t think we injured either of them enough for a hospital visit. Too bad.”
Pierce drove me home while we tried not to feel awkward or frustrated by our lack of clues. “Can you stop here?” I asked after I’d guided him into the turn onto the property. The gates were closed tight, gleaming like dark teeth. “I just need one more minute with someone who’s not freaking out.”
Pierce looked at me incredulously. “You think I’m not freaking out?”
“You’re not weeping like my dad will. Or doing whatever Aunt Aisha is going to do.”
He shivered. “True. But Ana, that was way too close.”
Dad was waiting at the gate. He hugged me so hard I nearly swallowed one of his shirt buttons. Aunt Aisha was the next to find us, dropping out of the sky. Her swan wings turned into a feathered cloak at her feet. She was naked and fierce. Poor Pierce, he had no idea where to look. Dad didn’t even blink. When you lived with people that transformed into swans, you got used to naked bodies. It was the most normal side effect of our magic. Aunt Aisha hugged me just as hard as Dad had. I picked up her cloak and handed it to her. “Pierce doesn’t know what to do with his eyeballs.”
Aunt Aisha glanced at him. “He is a rather interesting shade of puce.”
“Is that what that color is?”
He grumbled, still staring at his shoes.
She ran a hand over my hair, mouth hardening. “Did they hurt you?”
“No, we’re okay. I got the impression it was kind of an impulsive kidnapping.”
“An impulse that will get them killed,” she promised.
“I don’t think it was the Renards.”
“Of course it was. Who else would it be?”
“I don’t know, but they’re usually subtle about it. They have magic to hide, too. Why change their tactics so suddenly?”
“Believe me, I’m going to find out.”
Great, more blood feud.
Some of the more feral aunts circled over us in swan-shape. I hugged so many people it was like a blond parade of teary eyes and manic smiles.
Pierce stepped back, ready to leave. I grabbed his hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” I asked, nervous that when the magic wore off, he’d blame me for thinking he was in love.
He nodded, but he wasn’t smiling. “Of course.”
Chapter Seven
Ana
Edward was waiting for me by my locker. He wore black again, and it made his eyes even bluer. “Is your cousin okay?” he asked. “She was sick at the dance?” he added when I just stared at him, trying to find an explanation that didn’t involve swans, foxes, and possible kidnappers.
I finally nodded. “Yeah, sorry about that. Something she ate.”
“How was the rest of your weekend?”
I nearly got kidnapped and then I started a tornado. “It was okay.”
He tilted his head. “You cut your hair.”
I touched the back of my neck, exposed and bare. Aunt Aisha had evened it out for me, using silver scissors that had sat out in moonlight for three nights, while Sarafina wailed. Then they had me bury the ends of hair under the herbs in my garden. The next morning my lemon balm and mint had tripled in size.
“I like it,” he added, almost shyly.
I smiled back just as shyly. “Thanks.”
“I have to stop in the drama department, but will you eat lunch with me?”
“Yes.” Happiness tingled through me. This was it. This was the next step to getting my feather cloak.
I stopped by the library on my way to class to see Pierce. He was stacking books in the back, as usual. This was how I always pictured Pierce: surrounded by books. I paused, wondering if he was back to himself and how to ask him. I put the plate of cupcakes on the shelf closest to him. I’d made them with vinegar and magic, just like before.
I’d eaten one myself, just to be safe.
“I made you cupcakes.”
“It’s not the magic,” he said, without looking up.
I exhaled. “Pierce, that’s how magic works. It confuses you.”
“I’m not the one who’s confused.”
I had every right to be confused by that kiss. Not that I was still thinking about it. It was a symptom of a bigger problem. Aunt Aisha would tell me to wait it out. Magic faded. Mostly. Usually.
“It will go away,” I assured him.
“You don’t have to love me back, Ana. But you can’t keep telling me I don’t know my own feelings.” He shoved books onto the shelf with more force than was necessary. He refused to touch the cupcakes.
I hovered there, feeling weird and confused, until the bell rang.
Edward held my hand at lunch. He told me about how his mom worked backstage for the Shakespearean company in town and that was why he
’d joined the drama department. He sounded proud of her and it was sweet. He wanted to study set design. I just wanted to graduate. It was rare for Vila girls, too many things got in the way: magic, blood feuds, feathers. Insanity.
“You sound so ferocious,” he teased me later as we sat at the café and I talked about studying, because clearly my Vila-flirting-dating implant was defective. It was odd not to be at the counter with Pierce. I’d suggested going somewhere else, but Edward said he knew it was my favorite place because I was here all the time, even when I wasn’t working. I’d forgotten I’d once served him coffee in a fit of awkwardness.
“I have to be ferocious,” I admitted. “My family doesn’t care too much about high school diplomas.” That was as much as I could say about them. “So I have to defend my study time viciously.”
“Like the swans at the river,” he joked. “Every year the tourists get attacked over French fries.”
I choked on my latte. Pierce had made the foam into the shape of a swan floating on roses. It was almost too pretty to drink.
Edward doodled an idea for a backdrop for Macbeth as we chatted. It was nice. It wasn’t feather-cloak-nice yet, but still. An hour later, Sonnet and Mei Lin came in as I was walking up to the counter. Pierce wouldn’t quite meet my eyes, but at least he smiled at me. I could see his copy of Ulysses by the coffee grinder and I felt guilty and horrible all over again.
“Cappuccino,” Sonnet demanded. “Stat.”
“Make hers a decaf,” Mei Lin suggested, sliding into the other stool. There were so many silk flowers pinned to her hair she looked like a pomander.
I wrinkled my nose at them both. “Don’t think I don’t know Aisha sent you.”
“I’m just here for the coffee,” Mei Lin claimed.
“Liar.”
“I’m totally here to check up on you,” Sonnet said. “Deal with it.”
“You have such a soothing manner,” I teased. “It’s very stealthy.” She shrugged, unapologetic.
Mei Lin grimaced at the menu over my shoulder. “Seriously, who names these things?”
“The woman in charge of my pay stubs,” Pierce said drily. “So we love the puns.”
“And as you can see, I’m totally fine and hanging out in a public place. Plus, texting my dad once an hour.” Not to mention that my bag bristled with so many arrows I was basically carting a porcupine around. “So go home,” I added. I didn’t need more of an audience for my date. They eventually left but only after Sonnet made kissing noises at us, sucking her lips in like a fish.
I vowed to kill her later.
It turned out that Sonnet and Mei Lin weren’t actually keeping an eye on me like they said. Well, Mei Lin might have been. Sonnet, on the other hand, was scoping the café. I found out only because I caught her sneaking out in the van when I got home. I yanked the door open and jumped inside.
Sonnet was dressed in black, but there was nothing unusual about that. The fact that Rosalita also looked like a bad movie cat burglar complete with a black knit cap over her hair set off my alarm bells. They looked like doilies. There was no way Aunt Felicity hadn’t knit them. “Do I even want to ask?” I groaned.
Sonnet hit the gas pedal and I slid across the backseat. “You’re in now.”
I clipped my belt on. “Sonnet, I’m still tired from being almost kidnapped. Any chance you’re taking me for midnight ice cream?”
“We’re going fox-hunting,” Rosalita replied.
I stared at her. “Are you still high from that tranquilizer dart?”
“No,” she said tightly. “Thanks to you. You saved me. And they tried to take you, too. So now we make them pay.”
“Oh my God, Rosa. This isn’t a movie,” I said. “I don’t need to be avenged. Plus, if I did, I’d do it myself.”
“I’m avenging myself, idiot.”
“The Renards think we’re weak,” Sonnet added.
“Since when do we care what they think?”
“Since they’ve started hunting us again. Who do you think took those swans from the river? Who do you think took you?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “That van wasn’t at the Renard house when you all patrolled. Remember?”
“That means they have secret hideouts.”
“We have secret hideouts.”
“And they’ve proved we need them.”
I kicked the back of her seat in frustration. “Are you even listening to yourself?” We couldn’t go back to active feuding. There were still swan bones being dug out of the last battle field. Seventeen swan girls had died during the fight. “Sonnet, stop. Don’t make this another bloodbath.”
I tried to talk them out of it for the next fifteen minutes, but by the time we pulled onto the Renards’ street they were just as determined. I couldn’t even text Aunt Aisha since Sonnet had nearly broken my thumb when she caught me trying. My phone currently lived in her pocket. I spent most of the drive surreptitiously undoing the gold hair wrapped around any of the arrows I could reach.
The Renard house was as shielded against us as ours was against them. That made me feel a bit better. Probably we’d just drive up and down the street trash-talking them. We all did it at least once after we turned sixteen and could legally drive. Sonnet had started doing it when she was fourteen. “You guys, this is getting out of hand,” I tried again.
The house was made of dark logs and painted with dark green trim. I only knew that because sometimes you could catch a glimpse of it in winter when the leaves had all fallen. It looked like just another house. It was as close as any of us had ever gotten. Sonnet parked off the road, half inside a cedar bush. “That should be enough time.”
I swallowed nervously. “Shit. For what?”
Sonnet texted something into a phone as Rosalita slid the side door open. I contemplated leaping out with a shout of warning, but I couldn’t see anything. By the time I could, it was too late. Sonnet had child-proof locked my door. I didn’t think I could fit through the skylight. Besides, someone had to try to stop whatever stupid thing they had planned. “There,” Rosalita said quietly, pointing to a girl hurrying down the lane.
I knew that confident, snarly walk; that red hair.
Liv.
“She would never come out here alone to meet you guys,” I said. “It’s a trap.” Something was about to go very wrong.
“Of course it is,” Sonnet agreed. “She thinks she’s meeting Pierce after his shift. He just texted her.”
“What? Where did you even get that?” I snatched Pierce’s phone out of her hand.
“It was on the counter at the café.” Sonnet shrugged, as if she wasn’t completely deranged.
Liv stepped onto the road, looking furtively behind her. Sonnet sped up with a squeal of tires. Rosalita leaned out, grabbing Liv by the jacket and hauling her inside. She sprawled against me, shrieking. “Of course it’s you,” she spat, once she’d caught her breath.
“Don’t look at me,” I spat back. “I tried to stop them.”
“Sure you did.” She kicked at Rosalita, but Rosalita was too fast. She punched the back of Liv’s knees, forcing her down and twisting her arm behind her at a sharp unnatural angle. Liv yelped. Her eyes glinted green, the way a fox’s eyes gleamed at night. Sonnet was speeding so fast the van rattled like it was about to burst into pieces. I nearly bit my tongue off when she took a turn too tightly.
“We know you tried to kidnap Ana,” Sonnet said. “After you attacked Rosalita.”
Liv tried to kick again, but it was useless. “Ana’s right here, you head case.”
“She got free.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I could see the fear lurking under her temper. I felt it, too. This was how feuds were irrevocably reignited. It had been petty fighting for years, but something else threatened. Once the flame caught, there was no putting it out. Not without blood. “We didn’t take anyone.”
“Foxes lie,” Sonnet said.
“Swans die,” Liv r
eturned.
“Everyone. Just. Shut. Up,” I yelled at the top of my lungs. There was a beat of surprised silence. “This is stupid. Let her go.” I glared at Liv. “And you tell your family that if one of us is attacked again, I won’t be able to stop them.”
“We didn’t—”
“You won’t be able to stop us now,” Sonnet interrupted, unlocking the locks. Rosalita pinned Liv down with a boot on her lower back. Rosalita reached over and pushed my door open.
Right before she pushed me out.
Pierce
When I got home Eric was letting Spartacus out the front door. He took off into the shadows at the side of the house, running so fast he nearly tripped on his own feet. Eric watched him mournfully. “Everyone in this family is nuts, including the dog.”
He went back inside, and I detoured to follow Spartacus who was now barking so intently I was afraid he’d cornered another skunk. Jackson came out of the shadows and I took a swing at him before I recognized him. He ducked far more easily than he usually did, as if he’d been practicing. “Getting slow, old man,” Jackson sneered.
I rolled my eyes. “Quit being so damn creepy.” Vila arrows could only explain so much. He just smirked and went inside. I was seriously wondering if I should convince Eric to sleep on the couch. One of us had to get out of this falling-down house and falling-down family relatively unscathed. I was pretty sure it wouldn’t be Jackson. And he was stealing again. There was no way he could afford those shoes, never mind the hideous gold chain around his neck. I’d have mocked the old Jackson for it, but this new Jackson was unstable. And I didn’t know how to help him. It was like the arrow had only intensified his obsessive focus.
Spartacus was scrabbling at the shed, trying to get inside. He whined at me when I tried to pull him away. Sighing, I reached for the door handle, but it stuck, and this time it wasn’t because the old wood was warped. It was locked. The shed hadn’t been locked since I burned down the last one. I’d decided I’d had enough of being locked inside at night to “get tough.” It might be nothing, but Jackson had just come from this direction.