The Beautiful Ashes

chapter twenty-nine

Several hours later, I flopped back against the couch, letting the remote control slide from my fingers. The cabin we’d been staying in boasted a wood-burning fireplace, but the cable channel lineup sucked.

For the fifth time in the past thirty minutes, I glanced at Costa’s suitcase. Tonight was our last night in this cozy, remote hideout, and Costa, ever prepared, had already packed. He even had his suitcase by the door, leaving out just the items he’d need to get ready in the morning.

I hadn’t meant to spy on him while he packed. I’d been flipping through channels, and his room happened to be to the left of the TV set. His door also happened to be cracked, and it just so happened that I saw what he slipped into his suitcase before he hauled it to the door and left with Adrian to get dinner. See? Total accident.

Besides, I reminded myself as I gave into temptation and slinked over to Costa’s suitcase, he hadn’t told me I wasn’t allowed to use his laptop. He just hadn’t mentioned it, much like I intended not to mention taking advantage of the cabin’s Wi-Fi connection. Okay, if I got caught, the guys wouldn’t be happy, but yesterday, Costa had eaten my bag of Fritos without asking permission and I didn’t flip out. Why? Because friends shared. Everyone knew that.

I unzipped his suitcase and felt around through the pile of clothes until I came across something hard and flat. Then I slid the laptop out as gingerly as if it were booby-trapped with alarms. Once it was free, I almost ran to the desk where the cabin owners had the Wi-Fi information. As I turned the computer on, I found myself holding my breath. When the screen lit up and I saw that I didn’t need a password, I let out a whoop. No security? It was like Costa wanted me to use it!

I did follow Adrian’s warning not to log in to any of my accounts or contact any of my friends. I desperately wished I could message my roommate to tell her I was okay, but minions could still be scoping out Delia or my other friends. Instead, I Googled “Beth and Thomas Jenkins” to see if my parents’ funeral had still taken place, even though I hadn’t been there to attend. Not being able to officially say goodbye to them had been tearing at my heart for weeks, but I hoped they’d had a proper burial, at least—

I froze over a headline that had my name along with three words I’d never expected to see: Wanted For Murder. With trembling fingers, I clicked the article beneath.

“...Ivy Jenkins, daughter of recently deceased Beth and Thomas Jenkins, has still not been found. Jenkins fled the town of Bennington after murdering Lionel Kroger, the detective assigned to her sister’s case. Jenkins has a history of abnormal psychosis and should be considered armed and dangerous....”

I heard a car pull up, but I couldn’t stop reading. The article went on to detail how I was also a “person of interest” in Jasmine’s disappearance. Worse, it implied that the brakes on my parents’ car might have been tampered with, and noted that I was the only other person with access to their vehicle.

In short, it accused me of being a mass murderer.

“What are you doing?”

Under other circumstances, Adrian’s harsh tone would’ve made me flinch. Right now, I was too numb from shock.

“Finding out that I’m a wanted criminal,” I said with as much calmness as I could manage. Then I swung around to face him. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

Adrian set down the bag he’d been holding, and I ignored the delicious aromas coming from it. Costa shut the cabin door and went straight for the food. He couldn’t understand what I’d asked Adrian anyway. Thanks again, Hound disguise.

“I knew,” Adrian said, giving me a measuring look. “What did you think the police were going to say? That you went into hiding with the last descendant of Judas because the detective assigned to your sister’s case tried to deliver you to his demon master? They had to explain Kroger’s death somehow.”

I waved an impatient hand. “Fine, but why claim that I murdered him? Or make me a suspect in Jasmine’s disappearance, let alone my parents’ deaths? Aren’t the demons begging for unwanted attention with this?”

Adrian sighed. “Bennington isn’t the first police force they’ve infiltrated. They’re everywhere, and with their connections, they made sure your picture was plastered all over the news and internet, turning everyone who sees you into a potential informant for them.”

“But they know I’m disguised!” I protested.

“And now they’ve made sure you have to stay that way or they’ll catch you,” was his inexorable response. “Same as me.”

I opened my mouth—and nothing came out except a short, sharp sound, like a last gasp before dying. Adrian stared at me, his expression filled with a hard sort of empathy.

“I told you before, Ivy, we don’t win this war. Archons or demons do, but either way, there is no going back for us.”

I looked away, staring at the online article that had shattered the last of my hopeful illusions. This whole time, I’d kept telling myself that if I found the weapon and saved Jasmine, I could go back to some semblance of my old life. I might not have had the greatest one, what with pretending more than actually living, but it had been my life to screw up or improve. Sure, once I was back, I’d have to avoid mirrors and move Jasmine and me from the WMU dorms to hallowed ground, but I could handle that. Eventually, I’d make new friends, maybe finish college online, get a decent job, and—

And what? Go back to pretending that the dark, icy places I’d glimpsed were figments of my imagination? Hope that every new person I met wasn’t a minion in disguise? Even if demons hadn’t been behind the warrants for my arrest, what did I really think was going to happen if I saved Jasmine by decimating one of their realms? That the demons would call a truce and let my sister and me live in peace? No. We’d have to hide for the rest of our lives, and to do that, we’d have to leave everything and everyone we’d ever known behind.

My head dropped into my hands. Adrian was right. Even if I won, I didn’t really win. The Archons did, but Jasmine and I were still screwed.

“Is that what you really look like?”

I picked my head up to see Costa staring at my computer, a half-eaten burger still in his hand. I glanced back at the article. My Facebook user pic was next to the part that talked about my abnormal psychosis.

Was I still the smiling girl staring back at me? Right now, I felt decades older, but that wasn’t what Costa meant. I nodded, which needed no translation despite my Hound disguise.

Costa let out a wry snort as he glanced at Adrian. “No wonder you’ve been having such a hard time, bro.”

Was that a compliment? I looked at my picture again, trying to see it through the viewpoint of the handsome Greek. Okay, so I probably wasn’t as hot as I’d been with my blonde disguise, but my brown hair was thick enough not to need mousse, my eyes were a nice hazel shade and my mouth had a pouty kind of fullness. A guy I’d briefly dated had even called it lush.

Then I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the screen. My hair looked like it had been styled by drunk witches, raccoons would be jealous of the dark circles under my eyes, and if my skin was any oilier, the shine would light up the room. I needed a hairbrush, concealer and lots of pressed powder, stat!

Of course, that wasn’t possible. Even if it was, Costa would only laugh at the image of a Hound trying to primp. As for Adrian...the best makeover in the world couldn’t fix our issues. Only a broken destiny could, and while I still believed that was possible, Adrian didn’t. Not now and maybe not ever.

“I need to see my sister.”

Costa didn’t react to my statement, but Adrian froze in the middle of picking up a burger.

“Ivy,” he began.

“I so don’t want to hear it.” The words came out as a sigh despite my screaming on the inside. “You want me to embrace the suck? Fine, but I’m also finished with guessing if I’m weapon-hunting for Jasmine, or for you.”

He dropped the burger and stalked over. “What do you mean?”

I met his gaze without flinching. “You don’t want me entering the Bennington realm without the weapon, but is that because you’re worried about extra demon security? Or because you’re afraid that if I find out my sister’s already dead, I’ll stop looking for it and you’ll lose your chance at killing Demetrius?”

Anger suffused his face, flushing his cheeks and turning his eyes into burning gems. “Is that what you think?”

Costa glanced between us. “You two fighting?”

“What’s the only thing you told me I could trust about you, Adrian?” My voice was flat from the weight of my desolate future bearing down on me. “Your hatred of demons. So I’m supposed to believe you wouldn’t string me along about my sister’s survival to keep me looking for the one weapon that can kill them?”

Adrian’s hands closed into fists while he stared at me. The last time he’d done that, he’d grabbed me and kissed me, but something darker than passion seethed in him now.

“Get your stuff,” he said in a voice that vibrated from barely controlled rage. “We’re leaving for Bennington tonight.”