Ugly Girl Page 4

  “You mean Lane Avalon? Sure. She’s my aunt who adopted me. Do you know her? Are you from her gym or something?” Bastien looked like a bodybuilder, and Reyn had a runner’s physique. It wasn’t a left-field guess. Lane was a personal trainer, but her gym was two hours away back home.

  The two nodded uncertainly, as if unsure what they were agreeing to, or even what a gym was. Bastien kept his eyes ahead as he spoke. “Um, yeah. From her gym. She sent us here to talk to you. Good thing we showed up when we did. Otherwise it’d be little girl guts all over the place.” Bastien scratched the back of his neck.

  “‘Little girl’? Hello, I’m twenty-two.”

  Judah sat back, trying to center himself. “Who was that guy?”

  Bastien ceded the question to Reyn who, of the two, seemed more amiable and prone to gentle smiles. Reyn sat straighter, and spoke like someone who’d had a lengthy education. “Armand is the pet of Morgan le Fae of Avalon. She sent him to look for you. Actually, she sent quite a few looking for you. We’re fortunate to have found you first.”

  “You were looking for me?” I shook my head. “Wait, Morgan of Avalon? You mean Morgan Avalon, right? That was my mother’s name.”

  “It still is your mother’s name,” Bastien argued. “She didn’t change it.”

  I swallowed. “I guess that’s true. I just meant that she’s dead, so whatever Morgan Avalon you know can’t be the same one.”

  Bastien and Reyn exchanged wary looks before Reyn took the bullet and said the thing they were both thinking. “Morgan le Fae of Avalon isn’t dead, and she is your mother. She rules over the whole of Avalon, and she’s searching for you. We can’t let her find you, though. She’s bent on…”

  Bastien shook his head, and then rubbed a kink out of his shoulder. “None of this would make a lick of sense to you, so just trust us that Armand is a bad guy sent by the worst queen. We found you to hide you from her. If she uses your magic, there’s no telling what she could do to the rest of the Fae. Bad news all the way around.”

  Judah’s mouth dropped open and he cast me a “let’s get out of here and away from the lunatics” look. I couldn’t have agreed more.

  I glanced from Reyn to Bastien and took in the listless expression of the driver who had yet to make a sound. He wore a long rope necklace that didn’t suit his sweaty white dress shirt and red tie. “Um, o-kay,” I said slowly. “I think I can walk from here. The store’s just up there.” I pointed, but the driver didn’t slow down. “Um, sir? Can you drop me off here? I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

  “He doesn’t need a name,” Bastien told me. “You can call him whatever you like. He won’t obey you, though.”

  I quirked my eyebrow at flannel shirt’s dismissive tone. “You sound like an entitled jag when you talk like that, you know.”

  Reyn let out a snort of amusement. “‘Entitled jag’, eh? I rather like the sound of that.”

  Bastien turned in his seat and glowered at me, all sense of our previous budding camaraderie gone. “Our driver’s taking us to the gate. He won’t stop unless Reyn tells him to.”

  “Huh? What gate?”

  “The gate to Avalon. Do you always ask this many questions?”

  “Only to people who don’t bother making a lick of sense.”

  “We’re taking you to Avalon,” Bastien said slowly, as if I was dumb. “Are you trying to be stupid or something?”

  No matter how many people called me that awful word, it never stopped feeling like a sucker punch to the gut. The air left my lungs in an inaudible gust, but I kept my mouth shut, absorbing the pain like friggin’ Mike Tyson.

  Judah came to my defense when my sore spot took a beating at one of my trigger words. “Hey, watch your mouth. She’s not stupid.”

  I squeezed Judah’s hand, my head clearing a little when he didn’t let go. “Avalon. Is that in the state?” I asked, starting to sweat at the caged-in feeling that crept over my shoulder and settled in my chest. “Look, I really have to get to work. You just passed it! Turn around, guys.”

  Reyn looked ahead, unperturbed. “We’re taking you to a place where Morgan’s people won’t come looking for you. And the truth of it is, we need your help.”

  Bastien hissed at this admission. “Give her the advantage, why don’t you? You don’t have to say it like that.”

  “How else would you say it? We’re basically kidnapping this poor little half-pint and her friend. The least we can do is tell her why.”

  Bastien shook his head. “She’s not a little anything. She was handling Armand pretty well back there. Watch her, Reyn.”

  My heart started banging around like a silent alarm that I couldn’t believe wasn’t audible. I had to get us out of here. The rescue was starting to feel like a well-timed trap. We were only going thirty miles an hour down the business-lined street, but I knew I still might get pretty banged up if I did a duck and roll out of the car. Judah’s hand inched toward the handle, making eye contact with me as we silently agreed on the same crazy escape plan. We knew it would be risky. We knew it would hurt.

  It was worth it.

  The guys probably expected me to throw a fit, cry, reason with them and ask a litany of questions, but that’s just not how I roll. Apparently, I’m a decent roller, as is Judah. After silently popping open the lock on his door, Judah gripped my hand with fingers meant for typing and painting. He waited until the car slowed for a stop sign and made his move, ignoring their shouts of surprise that I wouldn’t be their magical Patty Hurst.

  I played my fair share of soccer. Growing up, I’d been so introverted that my Aunt Lane signed me up for every sport and afterschool activity I could squeeze into my schedule. Soccer was the only one that stuck, and I still played with an indoor team on the weekends. It wasn’t clubbing, but it was fun to me.

  Judah was not a runner, but he was sufficiently motivated not to get kidnapped, so he was faster than his usual barely-a-jog pace.

  We whipped past bus stops and businesses, wishing there were more people on the sidewalk at sunset to witness the insanity and call the cops. I didn’t look back, but charged as fast as I could go with no plan at all other than to run. In my experience, the giant muscle-bound guys were only barely decent at cardio. Lane and I ran half marathons every year together. I only hoped Judah could hold the pace of the initial sprint.

  I heard Bastien closing in on me with his heavy pants and growls of frustration at having to track down his prey, and sorely wished I’d stayed in karate past the few lower belts. I stopped on a dime, turned and swung my fist up toward Lumberjack Bob’s throat, cutting him straight in the center of his Adam’s apple. “Run, Judah! Go!” It was satisfying to watch Bastien double over as he choked, but I only caught a glimpse before I had to move on. I ran down the street after Judah, who turned the corner and didn’t stop until he reached a store that was still open. We hid in the back aisle furthest from the window, making note of the fire exit in the corner.

  Judah was white as a sheet, breathing through his teeth as he bent over at the waist to hold the stitch in his side. “Who are those guys?”

  “I don’t know! I’ve never seen them before in my life. You alright?”

  Judah looked at me like I was the biggest idiot he’d ever seen. “Um, no! I’ve been punched in the stomach and just ran like, a hundred miles! I’m not okay! I won’t be okay until we lose those guys.”

  “Take a breath. Go to your happy place.” My heart was pounding and my hands were trembling, but I started singing “My Favorite Things” from the Sound of Music soundtrack. “‘Girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes. Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes. Silver white winters that melt into spring. These are a few of my favorite things.’”

  Judah glared at me through his panting. “You know I hate that song!”

  Grateful to have sufficiently distracted Judah from his pain, I pulled out my phone. It was only then that I realized I’d landed myself in the one type of store I usual
ly tried to avoid.

  I was smack in the middle of a bookstore. Which, coincidentally, was Judah’s version of his happy place, and also was my personal Hell. I tried not to look at the titles that begged me to read them, some of the books daring me and taunting me with their bold colors and stupid fonts that made decoding a chore. I closed my eyes so I didn’t get too overwhelmed and pressed my phone to my ear, nearly squeezing out a tear when Lane’s voice came to me. “Hey, Ro.” Then she started singing her favorite song by the Spice Girls. “‘Ro, I’ll tell you what I want, what I really, really want. Ro, tell me what you want, what you really, really want.’”

  Her casual voice calmed me down so I could at least get in a full breath. “Two guys! Chasing me. They said they knew you from the gym, but I’m pretty sure that was a lie. And the old guy died! But he attacked me first. It was self-defense!” I leaned over, bracing myself on the bookshelf to steady my nerves. Judah was shaking his head slowly back and forth, no doubt reliving the murder he’d witnessed me taking part in.

  “You didn’t punch, hit or kick anyone,” Judah ruled. “I’ll swear to the whole thing. We were on the sidewalk the entire time. No one’s taking you to jail.”

  Emotion welled up in me at Judah’s pledge. Though I knew it was self-defense, the fact that Judah would lie under oath to save my skin reaffirmed that he was my ride-or-die best friend until the end. “I love you,” I whispered.

  Judah’s firm nod was all he could muster.

  Lane’s voice turned sharp, and I could picture her pink lipsticked mouth pulling in a tight line. “Tell me what they look like.”

  “Bodybuilder on too many steroids. Tall. One in a brown shirt, the other in a flannel. Tattoo on the lumberjack’s neck. Bastien. Late twenties, mid-thirties.” Another detail popped into my mind. “Reyn! The brown shirt guy said his name was Reyn.” I forced out a high-pitched laugh that made me wince with its fakeness. “They called you ‘Elaine of Avalon’ instead of Lane Avalon. They killed Armand, the old Popeye guy who attacked me, so I thought they were good, but then they tried to kidnap Judah and me! They said I’m the Daughter of Avalon, and Lane, they knew Mom’s name! They think she’s still alive, but she’s some evil queen or some nonsense. What the flip is going on? Judah and me? We’re pretty well freaking out right now!”

  My aunt swore, which was a thing she didn’t do unless she dropped something heavy on her foot or was caught off her guard. “Okay, listen to me, Rosie. Tell me exactly where you are, and then stay there until I come get you.”

  “But you live two hours away!” I shook my head. “No. I’m fine. We’ll wait it out here until I’m sure they’re gone, and then we’ll head to the police station and file a report.”

  “You’re not fine! You have no idea who those guys are.”

  “Think of the gas money, Lane. It’ll cost you a ton to drive all the way out here. I shouldn’t have called. I’m sorry. They just… I’ve never seen someone die before!” I closed my eyes, keeping my voice quiet so as not to confess my crimes to any eavesdroppers, though it looked like we were the only ones in the store. Judging by the empty cash register, I guessed it was smoke break time. “And I helped! I took swings at the old Popeye dude so Bastien could kill him! I helped kill a man!” I whispered.

  “Shut up!” Judah scolded me, looking over his shoulder to make sure no one heard my admission.

  Lane acted as if I hadn’t spoken. “Where are you? I’m getting in the car right now.”

  “Oh, jeez. I don’t want that. Never mind. Seriously. I’ll go straight to the police station once I’m sure they’re gone.”

  “Tell me where you are!” she yelled. Lane never yelled. Not even the time I accidentally nicked the mailbox with the fender of her precious Honda that I could hear purring in the background.

  I bit my lip, wishing she was here. Though, really if I’m wishing for things, I should’ve wished I was there, and then those guys wouldn’t be able to find me.

  Lane had given up everything to raise me when I’d been willed to her as a child. She’d been only seventeen at the time, and saddled with a one-year old. Somehow she’d made the best of it, and though money was always tight, we were tighter. I felt terrible at making her come all the way out just so she could walk me two blocks to the police station. Though I wanted to protest further, part of me needed her. I was such a mommy’s girl. I took a deep breath to calm my erratic nerves. “We’re in Halston Books on Fifth and Main. Not more than a few blocks from the pet shop.”

  Lane’s voice was determined. “Good, baby. You stay right there and get down. I’m on my way.”

  I should’ve been paying closer attention. I shouldn’t have stopped moving until we made it to the police station. There were probably a million things I should’ve done to make my life what a life should be, but none of that mattered when Bastien snatched the phone out of my hands and wrapped me in his tight grip with his free arm. Reyn slid out from behind the rack to block Judah with what looked like a kindly scolding on his rounded features. His hand went over Judah’s nose and mouth quicker than either of us could combat. Though my bestie was a few inches taller than me with a slim build, he looked very small as he inhaled something he wasn’t supposed to. Judah started to go limp, fighting to get to me, begging me with his drooping eyelids to make it all better.

  I wanted to. I wanted to save Judah, but Reyn dragged him toward the fire exit that led out to the alley. I screamed into Bastien’s hand as he moved me toward the back exit, closer and closer to my doom.

  5

  Fighting the Brick Wall

  I wasn’t fighting for my freedom at all anymore, but for Judah’s. He had canvas to paint. He had fonts to super care about. He had a degree he was working towards. I struggled against Bastien, kicking and thrashing and throwing my elbows like a wild woman.

  Holy crack on the cement, but the man was strong. Bastien’s bicep tightened around my chest, and I could barely breathe as I jerked around to no avail, exhausting myself but not him. “Elaine of Avalon?” he breathed into the phone. His voice ragged, probably because he sucked at cardio, and was a kidnapping bastard. “Would you stop it?” he grunted at me, squeezing tighter.

  “Oh, okay!” I replied sarcastically, ramping up my struggle. “Get off me!” I shouted for help, but Bastien dragged me out through the back exit before the store clerk came running to see what the commotion was about. Of all the stores we had to duck into, bookstores these days were the desert island of commerce. I’m inclined to blame Michael Bay with his flashy movie productions, but since he’s a fellow dyslexic, I gave him a pass to make as many movies as he wanted that mutated readers into movie-goers.

  The alley was far darker than the street, but I was determined not to get murdered next to the dumpster like a statistic. Reyn trotted back and snatched the phone from his friend so Bastien could muffle my screams with his hand. I continued my quest to fight with all my might, determined to make his life miserable if he was set on keeping me hostage. I stomped hard on his foot, plunged my elbows into his abdomen, and scratched and bit at random.

  I heard Lane shouting on the phone, calling down every filthy curse imaginable if they didn’t let me go right that second. Reyn’s voice was calm, as if the whole thing was a PR mess. “Elaine of Avalon?” He waited while Lane ranted some more, and then spoke with a low threat that sent a chill through me. “This is Reyn. I’m the judge’s son from Province 2. I’ve come from Faîte to collect the daughter of Morgan le Fae.” I heard my aunt going ballistic, but Reyn paid her no mind. “Morgan wants her, and no matter how much you hate me right now, the one thing we have in common is that we don’t want Morgan to find her daughter. I know that’s why you’ve hidden her here. I know there’s no other reason you’d choose to exile yourselves up here in Common.”

  I was growling and trying to rip myself free from Bastien’s iron grip, scraping at him with my nails and biting him until I tasted blood while I stomped on his instep. Bastien didn’t even flinch, t
he Frankenstein. “Dude, you’re pissing me off,” I warned him when I finally wrenched my mouth free. Then I shoved my elbow into his abdomen again, wincing at the immoveable muscles that barely budged at my attack.

  “A little to the left,” he cooed, as if this whole thing was funny.

  I stomped down hard on his left foot, satisfied at his slight wince. “Like that? Did that feel good?”

  “Tickled a little.”

  “Laughing, are you?” I tried my hand at popping my backside into his hips to attempt hefting him over my shoulder, but dude was a brick wall.

  “Who knew the Lost Daughter of Avalon could fight? That one might’ve worked, if you weren’t going up against me. I’m too tall for that to push me off my balance. But if you’re fighting someone else next time, make sure he’s not backed up to an alley wall, so you can get some real leverage.”

  I was livid that he was calmly giving me pointers. “Don’t patronize me! I’ll end you!”

  Reyn flicked my ear, grinning like a little boy who knew he wasn’t supposed to tempt the pit bull, but who also knew the dog behind the fence couldn’t do anything to get at him. “She’s a fighter, but if you could just explain to her that we’re not going to hurt her or her little friend, that would make my life so much easier. It would also help us get her out before anyone else from the Queen’s Army finds her. We’re your best bet for keeping her hidden right now.”

  I bit down on Bastien’s finger and ripped my head back and forth, smearing his blood on my cheek. I could feel his frustration that I wouldn’t go quietly. “Ah! Would you stop it?” He clutched me tighter, his hard muscles making my many attempts at freedom seem like a joke. I was finally making a dent, making him wrestle me to keep his hold. Point, Rosie. “If you’d just settle down, I could tell you that you’re fighting the wrong guy.” Then he started smooshing my cheeks so that my mouth opened and closed on his command. When his high-pitched voice came out in a poor imitation of me, I stomped down harder on his foot, accomplishing nothing. “Oh, Bastien! Thanks for showing up like that and saving my neck. You’re so strong and handsome.” Then he switched his voice back to his own deeper cadence. “Aw, you don’t have to say that. I live for rescuing damsels in distress.”