Angel's Mark

Twenty-one

Lucie did not wait one second, and I don't think any of us had expected her to. Lucie was a bit like a grenade; when she exploded, she exploded. There was no delaying. You either had to take the blow or run for cover.

When the five of us all staggered into the front room, Lucie was perched on the bottom step of the grand staircase, tapping her boots against the floor impatiently. She sat alone in the dark, her phone in her hand, and when we came through the door, she lifted her face to us.

She wasn't wearing the happiest of expressions.

Cian opened his mouth, but it was in vain.

"I cannot believe all of you," Lucie said, her voice dripping with contempt. She set her phone down on the stair beside her, folding her arms across her chest. Silver jewelry winked at me from her ears, her collarbones, her wrists, the only bright thing in a night-dark room. "I've had it with everyone running around and nearly getting themselves killed. I've just had it. I have had it."

Cian took a step towards her. "Muffin—"

"Don't 'muffin' me right now, Cian—what is wrong with you?"

Cian blinked, hesitating for a moment before he answered, "A lot of things, apparently."

"Good goddamn answer."

From behind Cian, I shared a glance with Zev and Nura. Alan was exempted from this glance, since he seemed to be more interested in staring at the wall. Zev and Nura both seemed to think, from the way they looked at me, that it was not their job to say anything to Lucie—which meant Cian was alone unless I said something.

I didn't want to say something. I wasn't good at saying things.

I brushed Cian's shoulder as I came to his side, regarding Lucie. She still sat there on the final stair, but everything about her was tense. "Lucie, I'm sorry. We were just trying to figure this out before it gets worse."

"Yeah, and did you?"

A thick silence settled upon the foyer.

Lucie sighed and got to her feet, leaning against the wall. Her smile was amused and annoyed at the same time. "That's even worse. You do all this without telling me and you don't even get anywhere. How pathetic is that?"

"Look, Lucie—what are you even mad about?" Cian said, his hands going to his hips. There was a bloodied, semi-purple scrape across his elbow, but other than that, it was impossible to tell he'd gotten in a scuffle at all. "That we baited the Silhouettes, or that we didn't tell you about it first?"

Lucie waited a moment, and as I watched, it seemed that the vexation flooded out of her. She collapsed further into the wall, her curls splaying against it like splatter paint. Her eyes shut, she murmured, "I don't...know. Maybe both."

"Both?" I said.

"I am sick of you all putting yourselves in danger. With the exception of maybe Zev"—he made a face at this, but didn't argue— "I'd be extremely upset if something happened to one of you. And yet—"

Alan's cough interrupted her. He had turned his attention away from the wall, and now raised his hand politely, as if we all stood in a classroom and not the house I'd lived in all my life. "Um, does that include me?"

Lucie shrugged. "Yes, Alan, it does include you. I would have to get a new lab partner. That would suck. You're good at not making things explode."

Alan seemed pleased with her reply. He nodded and said, "Cool. Go on."

Lucie spared him a smile, but by the time her eyes were on her boyfriend's again, her expression held the same unyielding fire. Everything about Lucie demanded respect, and that was why she never got anything else. "And yet," she went on, "I am also a little upset that I wasn't there."