Betrayed: The Chronicles of Luxor Everstone Book Two Page 11

  On the way back to the blocks, Coach Davis passed the church with the rest of the class in tow, which ruined Luxor's plan. Her fingers tingled the closer they got, and noticing Hunter, she lagged behind, with Ayla and Evie close by, chattering away. Stuck in her own world, she unzipped her backpack, and un-popped the lid of the apple sauce bottle.

  She ignored the sharp aches as she neared Hunter. "Hey. Can we talk?" She moved in closer and breathed him in.

  Why does he have to smell delectable?

  His lips tilted to the side, and she realised he had read her thoughts. "Here?" He raised an eyebrow, and scratched his arms.

  It shouldn’t have surprised her, considering he entered her room without her permission.

  Luxor swallowed the discomfort stirring up in the pit of her stomach. She’d rather the plan take effect anywhere else, but she didn't want to lose her nerve or opportunity. "It'll only take a second."

  "Sure," he sighed deeply, slinging his hand deeper into his pockets.

  "Alone." She directed the words at Melita who stuck by his side, like a Band-Aid.

  Oh, how I'd love to rip her off.

  Hunter tilted his head to leave in silence. Melita scowled, sidling her body up close to his, leaning up to whisper in his ear. He nodded and she walked away with satisfaction.

  Evie tugged on a hesitant Ayla's sleeve, giving them sufficient space, but still close enough to intervene. Everybody knew when it came to Hunter and Luxor, it could end amicably or in a disaster.

  Hunter screwed up his face, continuing to scratch. "Make it quick," he coughed out.

  Luxor moved into his personal space. The electricity wreaked havoc mixing in with the burning, finding it hard to focus, her mind eradicating any rationale. Before she could back out, she removed the bottle of apple sauce, dumping the contacts onto his head.

  His eyes widened, gooey apple sauce dripping down his temple. Without a second thought, she showered him with Skittles.

  Luxor stepped forward, placing her hands flat against his chest to push him back, the final part to her plan and the ultimate satisfaction.

  Hunter stumbled backwards, but at the last moment with quick precision, he cuffed her wrists and she toppled down with him.

  The searing pain hit her instantaneously and she screamed, whether it was internally or externally she couldn't be sure. Her throat constricted, blocking off any air supply as her insides ignited in a ball of fire. Crippled and immobile, her body refused to move, frozen against the raging fire. It took all her energy to roll onto the side, urging herself to crawl, to get away.

  Let me die, I can't handle the pain.

  Luxor clutched her necklace to give her strength, no matter where from. She shivered as she was transported into a small cul de sac. She wiped the water from her eyes and rained poured down on her. A hazy figure flashed in her vision, a female drenched in the rain, platinum hair plastered to her skull. Luxor recognised where she was, the small cottage house with the white picket fence easily distinguishable. By the woman, she yearned to reach out and hold her. The woman held a protective hand on her belly, and through the agony, there was an abundance of love.

  Luxor was sucked back, and continued to lie on the church grounds, but the edge of the scorching pain had been taken off. She pried her eyes open, Hunter's face contorted in a grimace, although he was sitting upright. Melita came to his aid, her hand in the crook of his elbow, and dragged him on the gravel away from the church.

  Strong arms picked Luxor up and moved her away to safety, the burning dripping away slowly like molasses, bringing much-needed air into her lungs. Her eyes were hazy and she couldn't make out the face. Once she was able to move, she clawed at her neck and chest, raking her nails against the flesh, breaking the skin. Blades of grass tickled her bare legs, as her head propped against a tree, to cease the spinning.

  Luxor heaved and clutched her stomach, ripping her apart as the fire ravished her organs, singeing them in the process. She kneeled on her hands and knees, her chest constricting. Not able to hold back, a mass of blue liquid fell from her lips, a pool on the floor. Her eyes widened and the repulsive sight had her vomiting until there was nothing left.

  Momentarily, she closed her eyes, and ethereal humming rang in her ears.

  A beam of baby pink light flashed. "Luxor, think about the beach, memories of when you were happy, anything but the raging pain." Ayla's voice cooed in her ear, and she placed a hand against her back, sending a soothing reprieve throughout her body. Baby pink light continued to shine dousing the fire, slowly the fire dwindled.

  Luxor fluttered her eyes open, and an ashen Ayla was next to her, moving her hair to the side. She wiped her mouth, removing the foul metallic taste with the end of her sleeve, struggling to get off the floor.

  Drops of glistening royal blue liquid coated her bottom lip, dripping down the side. Luxor fixated on her sleeve, turning it from side to side. Blue. A shiny blue.

  "What is that?" Evie asked.

  Ayla shrugged her shoulders and helped her up. "Maybe the lactic acid build-up from all the running. Let's get you to the infirmary."

  Word had already gotten to Principal Wright when Luxor came hobbling into the infirmary, with Ayla on one side.

  "Not you too," he said exasperated, leading her in down the corridor to the white room.

  Inside, Hunter was crouched over on one of the beds, an ice pack pressed between his palms, and a towel around his neck absorbing the apple sauce and skittle mess. Melita had one placed on her arms, seated beside him, gazing adoringly at him.

  Ugh, I need a bucket, this time for another reason.

  "She needs a hospital," Evie said.

  "No," Principal Wright and Hunter replied in unison.

  "Why? Can't you see how sick she is?"

  "Miss Cooper this doesn't concern you," Principal Wright chided her.

  "Can you ring my aunt to come pick me up?" Luxor turned to leave unsteady on her feet. There was no way she would stay alone in there, even with Evie around. The reception office would have been a better alternative.

  "Sure, just wait in here." He pointed to the other bed. "Ayla, can I see you for a moment?"

  "Wait." Luxor arose too quickly, her head spinning causing her to slump back down. A pain shot through her head. She laid back down and covered her arm over her eyes.

  "Lay down Miss Everstone," Principal Wright ordered before leaving, a distraught Ayla behind him.

  "I swear this sunstroke really gets to you," Evie whispered, laying a wet cloth across her forehead. She settled on the edge of the bed, giving her hand a little squeeze. "I'd try wearing T-shirts."

  Sunstroke my ass.

  "Evie and Melita are you able to give us a couple of minutes?" Hunter asked. He removed the ice pack from his neck and placed it on the table next to a dirtied tissue with a vibrant blue liquid, lighter than hers.

  Luxor mouthed it's okay and with no hesitation, Evie left.

  "Why do I have to leave, I'm sick too." Melita kicked up a fuss, replacing the ice pack on her arm.

  "I’ll only be a minute," he cajoled. She hopped up fully energised, sending a death stare Luxor's way.

  The room buzzed with their special brand of electricity, an invisible crackling surging through the air, and she choked on the intensity.

  “Can I explain why I left?"

  Stuck in the room, Luxor was in split minds whether she wanted to know or not, scared she wouldn't like the answer.

  "Explain what? How you just disappear after we..." The words lodged in her throat.

  What exactly was it? Technically they didn't do anything physically, it was worse.

  Emotionally he stripped her bare, exposed, and caught her at her weakest moment, then deserted her.

  "It wasn't supposed to go that far," he said solemnly.

  "Oh, regret can be a bitch on the conscious. Let me buy you an apple and Skittles that should make it all better." She swallowed the hurt. "Then again I won't have to since you're wea
ring it."

  "I deserved that," he said wryly, wiping a glob that dropped on his jeans. "You have every reason to be pissed, but I had no choice."

  "There's always a choice, you just chose wrong," she pointed out, angry he wasn't remorseful.

  "That's debatable. Tell me what to do and I'll do it," he vowed. "Anything."

  It would be easy to forgive and forget, but Luxor wasn't wired that way. She needed the hurt to remind her it was real, otherwise, he could easily do it again, and she'd be on this roller coaster of emotions where Hunter would be selfish enough to take with no regard for her feelings. Just because he'd seemed to change, a placid vulnerability eager to make things right, it didn't mean he couldn't slip back.

  "I want things to go back to how things were." Hope flared up in Hunter's eyes, and they gleamed with joy. He began to move closer when she held up a hand to stop him. "Before that night."

  "You can't be serious!" he all but yelled.

  "Deadly," Luxor replied with finality, swinging her legs around to stare at the wall.

  Principal Wright entered looking like he'd aged ten years in five minutes. "Your aunt is on her way." He turned towards Hunter. "How are you feeling now?"

  "I'll live."

  No thanks to you.

  She heard his condemning voice internally. She briefly glanced over her shoulder and was met with a raised eyebrow.

  "Okay, you can go. Take tomorrow off, you'll need to recover," Principal Wright told him. "Take it easy."

  Hunter slipped out, his head laid low, stealing one last glance at Luxor. Melita and his brothers were waiting for him.

  By then, Luxor had zoned out, her mind a jumbled mess. She dreamt of the sea, her fingers drawing it imaginatively on the wall. It placated her mind, imaging the glorious heat dancing in her skin, the salt in the air, the grains of sand under her bare feet, sifting between her fingers.

  Luxor waited in Principal Wright’s office reclined back on his plush suede couch, twiddling her thumbs and anticipated the storm Meredith’s wrath would inflict on her. After half an hour and still no appearance she feared the Stepford glamour had been taken off and Meredith had reverted back to her ice-cold affections.

  Valencia entered wearing a grim expression. “Hello Luxor, are you missing our sessions already?”

  “Am I that obvious?” she said, and straightened up. “I guess you’ve been clued in on today’s events?”

  "Is that a surprise? From what I've witnessed lately, I'm recommending extra help between our sessions.” Valencia sat beside Luxor and plucked a card from her purse, handing it over.

  "James Lawson, Victorian Kickboxing champion," Luxor read out loud. "I’m assuming brother,” she said, more as a fact than question. It couldn’t have been anything else as Grigori only produced single or twin Nephilims. Valencia nodded. She tucked the card into her back pocket, with all intentions of throwing it away. Valencia was undeniably crazy, and not in an eccentric way, but a lock her away and throw away the key way. How would punishing someone else help? The reason she was there was to deal with her emotions, but using violence was counterproductive.

  "It'll be good for self-defence," she explained, as if she had read her mind.

  The feeling of being watched made it worse. But kickboxing lessons? It was a little extreme. Actually, that took too far. All she needed was a can of holy spray, and then see if they'd want to mess with her, Luxor thought.

  Her thumb scrolled through the limited contacts to call Evie and before she could press the blue button Valencia had swiped her phone and pocketed it.

  “No time like the present,” she said.

  Would her brother be as bad as her?

  He was a kickboxing champion, and right now her only chance to release her anger in a much more productive manner. Otherwise somebody would be continually be cleaning up her mess when she combusted.

  Valencia all but dragged her in to the Urban Power Kickboxing Club and waited outside of the establishment. “Remember you brought this on yourself, your outbursts are gaining attention, and it’s a sure-fire way to evoke Cane. Excuse the pun,” she said, and prodded her inside.

  A hard-bodied male in a muscle shirt greeted her with a warming smile, with the same auburn curly red hair the similarities with Valencia were startling.

  “Luxor welcome.” James ushered her to the side and further in. “I’ve been expecting you.” She remained rooted to the spot and had to quickly move as she was blocking the doorway from patrons wanting to enter and exit. “I received a phone call from my sister informing me you could use my assistance.”

  So much for privacy. He obviously didn’t see me outside.

  He led her through a narrow hallway that held photographs alongside the wall to an open-spaced room. Inside the brightly lit room, a boxing ring sprung from the middle of the room with blue yoga mats encircling it with boxing bags hanging from the ceiling.

  A variety of males and females from children to mid-twenties worked up a sweat on the multitude of equipment.

  Luxor followed him into a self-contained kitchen where James passed her a bottle of water. “You’re going to need that,” he said. “Hold out your hands.” He dangled a pair of boxing gloves.

  She eyed them suspiciously, but stretched out her arms. He put the gloves on and fastened the Velcro.

  All gloved up, Luxor’s mindset was put into motion, and she was ready to relieve the heaviness off her chest.

  “Have you ever kickboxed before?” James held up two mitts.

  “Nope, so take it easy on me.” She half-heartedly laughed, omitting her other penchant for violence.

  “No such luck,” he replied seriously.

  James explained how to position her body, predominantly by always keeping one leg forward, and the different kinds of punches. There was so many Luxor was sure she'd forget them.

  I don't have an eidetic memory like Hunter. With that thought, Luxor threw one measly punch.

  "Is that all you've got?" Not holding back, he pushed her backwards on the mat. "Get up, try again," he ordered, not sharing the same, calm tone as his sister.

  He wants anger, I'll give him anger.

  She gathered all the built-up frustration, the hurt, and pounded with a great ferocity as if she was ejecting the venom out.

  Strike for Meredith and Steven lying to me.

  Strike for Cane and the danger he causes.

  Strike for Scarlett.

  Strike for all the secrets I have to keep.

  Strike for wanting and hating Hunter at the same time.

  James called out the moves, his voice turning into an endless blur. With each strike, she'd gotten harder, and more precise. Plaster splinters rained on her shoulder, and she was unable to stop, and they kept hurtling out.

  Her vision blurred, montages of the destruction of Ellie and the failed reconstruction of Luxor whirled together. Months of her living hell and still nothing had improved.

  James constricted her arms in a gridlock, and tackled her to the floor. "Don't you have anything better to do? Shows over," he growled.

  The patrons resumed to what they were doing, although quite a lot were staring at her, and whispering.

  "What happened?" She blinked out of her trance when murmurs circulated the room.

  James undid the Velcro, and pulled the gloves off, dropping them on the floor. "You seriously killed me." He wore a proud smile, passing her the bottle of water. "How do you feel?"

  Luxor kneeled over and panted, the sweat saturating under her arm pits and neck. She lifted her top, wiping her flushed face with the bottom of her t-shirt. "Thank you I really needed that." She couldn't help but smile, feeling enlightened and free as if she was walked on air. She looked around, something disturbing her. "Why are people staring?"

  "They've never seen me get beat up before," he said with a half-smile.

  "And the plaster?" She flicked minuscule pieces of her shoulder and onto the floor.

  He shrugged. "It's an old building.
"

  “It was me again.” It was a declaration, and not so much of a question.

  “Embrace what you are, as most would kill for your power.”

  How can I be proud of being a weapon?

  "Keep these." James passed her the gloves and walked her to the door. "When you need to vent, take it out on your pillow...Or wall." Luxor arched an eyebrow. He held up his hands. "It was a joke…Kind off."

  When Valencia dropped Luxor off at The Chalet, she was unable to manage a goodbye. Every part of her body ached especially when she dragged herself up the stairs and into the shower. She leaned against the tiles, and allowed the hot water to douse over her until she had turned lobster red. She hoped muscle healing would be as quick as skin, and the tenseness would evaporate soon.

  Luxor dressed in her pyjamas and was about to slip into bed before hearing a chorus of voices. She slipped on a robe and headed down to the kitchen.

  Evie and Pandora chatted away, and had made themselves comfortable around the kitchen table, while Ayla had the kettle on.

  “Well if it isn’t little miss hothead,” Evie said, her lips in a thin line.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Visiting my fave psycho.”

  “Evie, shut up,” Pandora snapped, her nails digging into the tabletop.

  “I can’t do this now, I’m too tired. You should have called.” She turned to leave, one foot on the bottom step.

  “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I’m on the verge of saying see you later. First you punch Scarlett, which was awesome by the way, but then you cover Hunter in apple sauce and Skittles, that’s just plain weird.”

  Luxor spun around. “He deserved it!” she burst out, slipping in a chair, and tilted her head back. “He broke into my room and scattered Skittles with an apple on my bed along with this.” She removed the note from the pocket of her robe and flung it out.

  "What's that?" Pandora asked.

  She shrugged her shoulders. "This accompanied the others.”

  "Oooh, mysterious. Well come on chip, chop read it out." She smiled wide and clapped her hands.