9Mucking Around
"Starting from today, you're a Mucker!" My aunt chirped from my side, as she casually patted my shoulder. I resisted the powerful urge to push it off.
"Great," I replied, my tone completely sincere. I am after all an actress. "I've always wanted a mucker for a mascot." Mickey glared at me from the other side of her mom.
"Oh, you should see the little cartoon," my aunt rambled on, "He's got great biceps." She winked. I gagged.
"Awesome. I've always wanted a mascot for a boyfriend," I nattered, crunching along down the poorly paved road.
"Don't be silly!" My aunt exclaimed, still getting chummy with my shoulder. "You can't date a two-dimensional character!" I rolled l my eyes to the side. I knew that you thick bitch, I snapped in my head. At least Mickey caught my sarcasm.
I risked a glance at the girl over her mother's head. Her hair was brushed this morning, but it was pulled into a low ponytail with about fifty million grimy flyaways. Mickey's shirt was a dull navy polo, which did nothing for her deathly complexion. I sourly eyed the grungy extra-large jacket. It was almost eighty degrees today, and only seven in the morning. There was no way Mickey could wear that thing the entire day. Was there a problem with the school's air conditioning? Or was she just an oversensitive fashion reject? I had a feeling I knew which.
I looked down at my own ensemble. I'd chosen a deceptively simple earth-toned designer blouse, paired with faded embroidered jeans and jade accent jewelry. Professional enough for teachers, playful enough for my peers. I thought it looked slightly western in honor of my move to Nevada, but not so over-the-top that I came off as an ignorant poser. I wasn't stupid enough to wear a cowboy hat on my first day even if it would have been fun.
Of course, the best part of today's look was the perfectly curled hair and flawlessly applied mascara, courtesy of the mirror in the attic. I looked like a vision. A goddess incarnate, descended to save the boonies from their wretched small-town heathenism. I could show them a bigger way of life.
I looked over at Mickey again. Virginia City was a narrow world indeed. I might as well have moved to the Appalachian hills. It was hard making eye contact with her after last night. Every time I looked at her, I saw her kneeling in front of Mordecai, recalled her furious face at the door with blood trailing from her lips. My cousin was fucking her twin brother. How was I supposed to feel?
I think I was regretful that I didn't have better pictures.
It was unlikely that the two would let their guard down like that again. Mickey hadn't said anything over breakfast this morning, but we hadn't had a moment alone since we woke up. I knew it had to be on her mind too.
"Hey Aunt Muriel," I asked, deceptively laid-back, "Where's Mordecai?"
My aunt frowned, her hand slipping from my shoulder. "Kai is ill." She said shortly. "Too ill to go to school. He studies from home on an online course."
Kai may be sick, I wanted to tell her, but he's not too ill to bang his sister. They even do blood play. Instead, I smiled ruefully and tucked a lock of hair behind my ear.
"I'm sorry, I should have guessed," I said. "Where is his room, by the way? I hardly ever see him."
"Really?" My aunt looked at me wide-eyed. "His room is right across from yours." She shook her head and sighed hopelessly. "That boy is so shy. I'd hoped you might become friends. He's hardly been outside the house in the last few years. He needs friends."
I only had a little time to be surprised that my creepy cousin had been on the other side of the hall from me this whole time, which I suppose I shouldn't have been after walking in on him last night, before Mickey interjected hotly.
"He has pen pals online, mom." She said. "Stop trying to force more friends on him here."
Her mother shot her a glare. "You know how your dad and I feel about relationships online. We prefer that he lives in real-life."
"He'll always have me," Mickey insisted. "He's not going anywhere."
I wondered if I was the only one picking up on the double-entendres. Mordecai 'had' Mickey indeed.
I decide to tease her a little, to see what I could gain out of the situation. I needed to know exactly where Mickey and I stood, "Wow," I said admiringly, flashing Mickey a full set of pearly white teeth. "You care about your brother a lot. You must really love him."
"Of course I do." Mickey said stiffly. "You probably don't understand since you're an only child, but it's nice to have someone you can rely on for everything."
"It would be nice to have someone I could go to for everything." I agreed. "Things I obviously couldn't get elsewhere." I turned to Mickey's mother. "I wish I had a twin. Can Mordecai be my twin?"
Mickey's mother laughed. "You'll have to take that ups with him." She leaned in conspiratorially, heavy hand back on my shoulder. "It might not be hard, I think. Modecai likes you. He talks about you a lot. You might not have seen him, but he's been watching."
I shuddered in revulsion. Creepy, creepy creepy. I had a masochistic twincestuous stalker living across from my room. I needed to get out of here more badly then ever. Outwardly, I smiled across at Mickey. "See now, we should take a family picture. We'll be like triplets."
Aunt Muriel's eyes glazed over. "Oh, I can just picture it. It would be Mickey and Nikki and…" My aunt trailed off.
"Dickey?" I supplied helpfully. I waggled my eyebrows at Mickey over Aunt Muriel's head.
"He'd hate that!" My aunt laughed. "But it's so great to have you here." She stopped at the side of the road. "Welcome to Virginia City High School," She said pleasantly, as if a tour guide directing a bus, "Attendance now 156!" She waved grandly at a squat, sun-bleached building at the end of a cracked and dust-blown parking lot. She pointed at a white-washed rock painted with burly miner wielding a pickaxe. "That's the Mucker."
I gave my aunt props for her earlier description. He did have giant biceps. I'd honestly expected a pot-bellied old man wallowing in mud.
Aunt Muriel turned and flung her arms around me, giving me an overly forceful hug. "Your paperwork is already filled out, so just head to class. You have homeroom with Mickey. I'll leave you two here, so I don't embarrass you heading in!"
Too late for that, I thought, eyeing the handful of students dribbling a basketball on a corner of the uneven asphalt. Some of them looked pretty cute from a distance. Walking in with Mickey was going to be an embarrassment in itself anyway.
My aunt gave Mickey a quick kiss, then started back up the road. I turned to Mickey with an unpleasant grin. "Lead the way," I said, once she was out of earshot. "Then fuck off."
Mickey gave me a dark, scathing glare. "Do your fans know that you swear like a sailor?" She asked.
"You think they'd give a shit?" I shot back. "I'm not on Disney anymore."
"It doesn't fit your screen image."
I didn't bother to reply, only buffed my nails on my shirt.
Mickey clenched and unclenched her fists. She let out a long, whistling sigh through pursed lips. She shook her head, and marched off towards the school doors. I followed gracefully, thumbs hooked in my belt loops and a satisfied smile on my face.
I was expecting maybe about ten people, but there were more like twenty in the class. It was larger than any classroom I'd been in since elementary. I'd been out of the public education system for a while.
I anticipated being swamped as soon as I stepped into the room, but most people just hushed up and started giving me furtive glances when they thought I wasn't looking. Only a few had the balls to gawk openly. Yes, I am fame in the flesh.
A few people greeted Mickey, more than I imagined. She nodded politely back, but didn't introduce me. Fair enough. I'd wait for the obligatory new student speech. I wasn't going to go out of my way to collect companions here. That would be needy and put me in a subservient position. They'd have to come to me.
Predictably, when class started at eight the teacher called me up to the front of the class to give an introduction. She, at least, couldn't contain her enthusiasm, trying to hide a goofy grin behind her hand.
"Hey everyone." I smiled and gave a cute little wave wiggling my fingers. "I'm Nikki Clementine." I smiled wider as the class began to outright whisper. "For real." I'd bet my entire fortune that paparazzi would descend on the town by tomorrow. This was going to be all over the internet by lunch. Right now, in fact, judging by the furious fingers typing out messages on cell phones under their desks. Thank you, Twitter.
Some boy with acne in the back held his phone over his head, probably recording.
"Everyone here can call me Nicole, though," I continued a little louder. "Since I'm here to be a student. Looking forward to the year, guys." I sashayed to my seat amidst a swirl of questions and speculation. That went well. Friendly and just enough to bait them. By lunch I'd be their queen.
First period was Health Education. I hadn't enrolled in this class, but I knew why I was there. Looking at my schedule I could see that they'd substituted it for Drama. Hah. Maybe it was a little unfair for Nikki Clementine to compete with some small-town Prima Donna for a role in the school play.
I hugged my legs closer to my chest. I was lounging companionably with a chattering group of girls in the corner of the stifling, dimly lit gym. I had been stripped of my designer clothes and stuffed into an old P.E. uniform of Mickey's. Hopefully it was cleaner than the girl. The grey, humdrum shirt bagged and sagged unflatteringly even with our difference in height.
I sighed and picked at the hem idly. Mickey's oversized clothes complex was really starting to bug me. Especially if I was going to have to wear her stuff. She was just so insecure about her image. But then, if I looked like her I would hide my body too.
One of the girls next to me cleared her throat nervously. "So….are you really Mickey's cousin?" She asked hesitantly. I studied her appearance thoughtfully. Her dull brown hair was too frizzy, but her lilac nails were round and well manicured so I gave her a pass. I grudgingly admired her mascara. I was personally feeling a bit smudged after the so-called warm up the teacher had put us through. He'd run us ragged jogging laps, before dashing out to grab some paperwork he'd forgotten for the class. We were supposed to be continuing on unsupervised with jumping jacks and stretches.
Fuck that.
I smiled at the girl leniently and gave a little laugh. "Doesn't look much like it, does it?" I said, with a conspiratorial half-smirk. "We seem to be total opposites. It's a little strange living in their house, but I'm glad they gave me a place to stay." Hah, right. I'd be equally glad to leave, too.
The girl nodded sympathetically. Was her name Olivia? Caitlin? It didn't matter anyway.
Another girl scooted closer, this one was a bleached blonde. "I totally understand," she said. She had the imperious air of the school's head bitch. I did remember that her name was Anna. "They say her twin is crazy. Is it true?"
Yeah, it was definitely true. I didn't want to let that out yet, though, until I had my proof. "I haven't really seen him," I fudged with a slight shrug. "He did look pretty sick. Then again, Mickey does too."
This set all the girls to laughing. It must have been the perfect thing to say. Mickey didn't have many fans here either.
"That is so true," Anna said, wiping an imaginary tear from the corner of her eye. "You know her brother used to come to school here sometimes, when he wasn't feeling sick. Then he just up and disappeared for good. Teachers wouldn't say anything, and Mickey shut up like a clam." She tapped her nails on the gym floor, and pursed her glossy lips in thought. "Mickey used to be pretty normal, you know, but since then she's just like, looked worse and worse." Anna looked directly at me, as if weighing her next words. "I'd almost feel sorry for her if she wasn't such a show-off."
Now that threw me for a loop. Scrubby Mickey was a show off? Who would show off looking like she did? I'd hide behind an iron mask. My confusion must have shown on my face, because Anna pointed at the other side of the gym.
"Just look at that," she said. A crowd of boys had gathered under a basketball hoop, chanting and clapping someone on in the center of their circle. One of them stepped to the side, and I caught a glimpse of the focus of attention. It was Mickey. She was doing a handstand, competing against another guy, and looked to have been at it for quite a while. As I watched, she carefully removed one hand so that she was balancing on a single palm, then raised herself onto her fingertips. Was that humanly possible? I tried and secretly failed not to be impressed.
Anna continued on. "She thinks the guys like her because she's scary strong. She doesn't understand that they only pay attention to her because she's a freak. She's never going to get a boyfriend." Anna bit her thumb, glaring intensely at the spectacle.
The frizzy brunette from before laughed and nudged Anna playfully. "You're just mad because she won't join you on the track team." The brunette looked at me. "Anna is team captain. Every year they make it to the regional finals, and every year they lose because they can't cover all the events. If Mickey would do shot put or hurdles, they might have a chance."
"Shut up, Olivia." Anna hissed. The brunette was Olivia, then. "You're being embarrassing."
"I'm just telling the truth! And you're dissing Nikki Clementine's cousin."
"Shhhhh!"
I rolled my eyes. Desert hicks. "It's okay," I said. "You can say what you want about Mickey." Lord forbid they thought I was going to protect her. As if I would demean myself like that.
Anna suddenly grinned wickedly. "Oh really. You know what her nickname is?" She asked. I could hear the cruel amusement in her voice.
"No," I said, interested.
"Mickey Mouse," Anna said, sitting back smugly.
I arched an eyebrow. That was the big insult? How clever. I remembered calling her that when we were seven at a family reunion.
"Mosquito might be better, though." Anna continued. "Watch this." She stood up and walked casually to a bin full of basketballs. She strolled back with one under her arm, and winked deviously at me. "I have pretty good aim."
She turned and lined herself up with a gap in the crowd. Mickey was still on her hands, back to us and facing off against a different boy. Anna lobbed the ball girlishly with two arms, but it was a fairly decent throw. I almost jumped to my feet, ready to give a warning, when Mickey suddenly swayed to the side and the ball sailed harmlessly past.
My shout died on my lips. Mickey wavered a little, then toppled over almost as if she'd decided to lose her balance. She rolled to her feet with barely concealed acrobatic grace. Anna looked back at me, ignoring the boys shouting obscenities at her except to flash them all the finger.
"You see," she said, "she's like some kind of fly. Extremely annoying and incredibly hard to hit. Mickey Mouse is just more….um, what's the word…allegorical."
"You mean alliterative," I supplied.
"That's the one. Alliterative."
I smiled graciously and made room for her to sit again. I joined the other girls in trading jeering insults with the boys. Anna had sparked an all-out gender war that only stopped when the teacher came back and found the class in total chaos. My mind however, was somewhere completely else. Mouse, fly…mosquito was pretty apt considering how she'd been licking Mordecai's blood. I couldn't help but feel, though, replaying her baleful glares and the way she'd lazily tumbled and risen back to her feet, that Mickey was a creature slightly larger and more dangerous than an insect.
And if Mickey was supposedly the sane one, what did that make her steel-eyed twin?
I was just sitting down to lunch, a delicious double helping of chicken Caesar salad—no dressing- with a small carton of milk on my tray, when Mickey tapped me from behind on my shoulder.
"Get up. We're going home." She said. I was pleased to feel the eyes of my new friends at the popular table burning holes in her head as I pursed my lips and sat down defiantly. Within four hours, I had collected anyone who mattered completely within my sway. I was brilliant.
"Mom is expecting us for lunch. She's made…something more substantial than lettuce." Mickey eyed my salad with distaste.
"Oh, but I just got this," I complained, "It seems like such a waste."
"Eat them both." Mickey said. She leaned in close to my ear. "Do you want me to tell the whole world what your problem is? It's a good way to lose fans fast." She hissed softly, scanning the faces of my new followers.
I wasn't going to take that. "Do you want me to tell them what your problem is?" I hissed back.
Mickey narrowed her black eyes. Her long eyelashes brushed my cheek, she got so close to my face. "I'm really not sure I want to know what you're thinking about, but I am certain that anything I leak about you is more likely to damage your life than mine." Her breath was hot and uncomfortable. It smelled like cinnamon gum. "I think you have more to lose. Or do you not want to get back to L.A. in time to film that stupid romantic comedy you keep blathering about?"
Now it was my turn to narrow my eyes to a squint. I quickly smoothed my expression out when I realized it might contribute to wrinkles.
I gave a small, fake laugh as if Mickey had said something extremely funny, and smiled apologetically around the table. "Sorry guys," I said. "It looks like I can't get out of this one. Mickey's mother can be pretty particular. I'll catch you all next period."
The other girls and handful of boys at the table assured me it was okay almost robotically. As if they would do anything else. This rain check was an unexpected setback, but not a catastrophe. I could compensate after school. I let Mickey lead me to the cafeteria exit, where I dumped my tray and followed her out the door.
"I didn't know you were a gum chewer, Mickey." I said lightly as we left the building.
"You don't know me very well at all." She said. "Do you want a piece?" She put a hand in the pocket of her oversized jacket and fumbled for the package.
"Um, no thanks." I said sarcastically. Like I wanted her shitty gum. "How did you know about my Dreamworks deal?"
Mickey smirked. "Like I could not. You've only been talking about it all week."
I was pretty sure I'd only talked about it to Robert, and never within earshot of my extended family. My involvement was supposed to be smoke and viral rumor until the official press release. I said as much.
"I have very good hearing." Mickey replied blandly. Smug bitch. I wanted to point out that she hadn't heard me at the door last night, but figured it would be counterproductive to my purposes. Let her be overconfident. If she thought she could blackmail me into coming home to eat some fatty lunch, she just needed to wait until I got some hard evidence of my dirt on her.
We were uncomfortably silent the rest of the way to the house. I refused to say anything to Mickey, and Mickey thank god didn't try to make conversation. I might not have been able to talk anyway. It was only a five minute walk to her front porch, but it was all steeply uphill. I was huffing badly by the end and feeling severely drained.
Mickey looked me up and down, face blank, while she unlocked the heavy oak door. It was painted, like the rest of the house, in an unattractive antique yellow with lavender and burgundy trim. If the palate had been any brighter I would have called the combination eye-splitting. I tried to lean inconspicuously against the porch railing and blink away my lightheadedness. Mickey walked too fucking fast.
"You could have asked me to slow down, you know." She finally said. "We're not in any rush."
I flipped her the finger and tossed my hair. "Fuck you, bitch." I spat. "We're not all doped up man-women on fucking steroids."
Mickey's eyes got hard again. "You really make it hard to be nice. It wasn't even three blocks. Have you ever thought that maybe if you ate something, life would be a lot easier?"
"I wouldn't want to end up looking like a hermaphrodite like you." I said back.
"Yes, well," Mickey said. "I wouldn't want to be as weak as you." She walked into the house.
I fumed on the porch. Weak? Weak!? I was an extremely successful teen model and actress with a national following. If I said side-ponytails were in, side-ponytails were in. That was power. I had money. I had a career. I was beautiful and only seventeen, and when the Dreamworks movie deal went through I'd have a real chance at an international market and joining the Hollywood big leagues.
I felt sorry for Mickey. Muscles were irrelevant unless they were on a guy's abs. Mickey was just so depressed that she was ugly that she had to take her confidence where she could.
I pushed myself off the porch and stormed into the house, letting the oak door slam satisfyingly behind me. I took three steps into the house before I bumped into Mickey. She was standing still as an iron rod in the middle of the entryway.
"What are you doing?" I said. "Let's get lunch over with." I tried to step around her, but Mickey held out an arm to keep me back. I looked at her through my peripheral vision. If Mickey's eyes had been hard before, they were now like obsidian chips. Her face had settled into an impassive mask.
"Go back outside." She said, her voice void. I couldn't help but feel unsettled at the sudden chill. "I'm going to get Kai. We'll have a picnic."
"What?" I asked, but Mickey was already gone. Head I even seen her move? I didn't waste neurons debating whether or not to follow her orders. I wasn't going to take shit from that cunt without good reason. It was hot outside, too.
I wandered idly into the kitchen, pausing to examine the various artifacts and pieces of artwork along the hall. My eyes lingered on one picture in particular. It was a photo of a shaded copse of aspens, brilliant gold and orange in fall color. I could see a pond in the background, and figured it must have been taken up at Lake Tahoe. There was no water or aspens here. A wild pinto was emerging breathtakingly close from the shadows of the trees. I admired the way its sleek brown and white flank harmonized perfectly with they dying autumn grass beneath its hoofs. It looked so alive in that moment that, for one crazy instant, I felt as if I moved I would scare it.
I peered closer at the image, breaking the spell. It was a little grainy, like someone had used a high speed of film. I tried to pick off a speck of dust from the horse's forehead, but the spot wouldn't budge. It was actually in the picture. It made the horse look like a unicorn. What a way to ruin a shot, I thought. Kai's signature was in the corner. Amateur.
I continued on my trek to the kitchen. The house had a formal dining room, but the family hardly ever used it except for important functions. We'd eaten there the first night I'd arrived, and then hardly stepped into it since. That was fine by me. The dining room had an impressive chandelier, but it was easier to sneak food into the trash in the kitchen.
I took a seat at the kitchen table and drummed my fingers on the ancient hardwood surface. The kitchen, apart from the rest of the house, was an interesting mix of old and new. My uncle had preserved a rusty boiler in one corner, but my aunt had insisted on modern cabinetry, stovetops and a refrigerator. How ironic that my only refuge of contemporary design was the place I least wanted to spend time. Copper cookware hung gleaming from the ceiling, a reminder of Mordecai's allergies. He was allergic to certain metals.
A muffled shout and thud filtered down from upstairs, and I wondered what was taking so long. Was Mordecai having a fit up there? Or were Mickey and her brother at it again. I got up to go investigate, when an unfamiliar voice stopped me in the middle of pushing back my chair.
"Hello, pretty." He said.
I jumped, and whirled to face the sudden intrusion. A young man, about twenty, was leaning languidly against the doorframe, his dark and artfully mussed hair brushing the top of the doorway. He was tall. Well over six feet. Perfectly sculpted lips twisted into a devilish smirk as he flicked the one large hoop dangling from his ear. I would have made some snappy comment about pirates if I wasn't so captivated by the way he held me in his stare. His eyes, I noted, were silver like Mordecai's, only this man's irises seemed to reflect and flicker as they studied my figure, like a cat in the dark or a falling coin.
"Who…who are you?" I asked thickly. My mouth was suddenly dry and for once in my life I wasn't sure what to do about it.
The stranger uncrossed his arms. I involuntarily followed the way his lithe muscles coiled and uncoiled as he shifted position. His clothing was strange, pairing a starched white shirt rolled to his elbows with an archaic deep red silk vest, but he looked so at home in it I couldn't question his tastes.
"I guess you could say I'm a family friend," He drawled. "The name is Malachai."
"Malachai," I repeated, testing the name. It was hot. He held out his hand in greeting, and I moved to take it. "It's nice to meet you…Malachi."
A sudden crashing in the dining room stole my attention just as I clasped his hand. Mickey skidded into the kitchen from the other side, wild-eyed and splattered with blood. There was more of the red stuff dripping and sizzling off her iron crowbar. "Nikki!" She shouted. "No!"
In a flash I was pressed close against Malachai, one hand pinning my arms and the other painfully gripping my chin. He tilted my head back, exposing my throat.
"Michaela," He said pleasantly. "That was efficient. You've gotten much better. My commendation."
"Let go of Nikki," Mickey growled out. "She's not involved in this."
"Anyone in this house is involved," Malachai replied smoothly. "Until you hand over Mordecai, I'll keep coming back."
"I'm not going to let you kill my brother!" Mickey shouted.
"Then I'll kill your…" Malachai frowned, and looked down at me quizzically.
"Cousin." I gasped out stupidly. A beautiful, beautiful man was threatening my life in the kitchen while my cousin tried to fend him off with an iron crowbar.I wondered where the secret cameras were rolling. Was this some sick fuck's idea of a prank to air on E!?
"It won't matter," Mickey tried to bluff. I could tell she'd never hack it in my industry. "You figured out how to break the seals on the portal, but you obviously still can't break my brother's personal barrier. You'll never get him."
"Yes," The man emphatically agreed. He smiled cheerfully, relaxed despite the strength in his grip. I could feel my cheeks starting to bruise. "I might have underestimated him." His smile twisted into an unpleasant snarl. "That's why I'm now holding your cousin hostage in exchange."
Mickey snarled back equally unpleasantly. "Go ahead," She said. "I don't even like her." That was definitely not a lie. Now I was scared.
"Will…somebody…please," I struggled to speak through the hand clenching my jaw. "…tell me…what is going on…here?"
Mickey shot me a warning glare and the man Malachai glanced down at me sadly.
"I'm sorry, little pretty, but hostages shouldn't speak." He said. "What does it matter to you anyway? If your cousin has her choice, you're soon going to be dead."
I looked with frightened eyes at Mickey. I knew from her expression right then that if it came down to it, she would definitely place her brother over me. This was no joke. If it would save her brother, she would let this man kill me.
I let my eyes flutter closed to stop the tears. I was going to die today. I was going to die.
BANG.
I opened my eyes in shock. Something warm and wet tricked down my back. I tried to look, but couldn't turn my head. Malachai, above me, let out a low hiss of pain.
"That was really stupid, you know." He said over his shoulder to someone behind us. "You could have killed the girl anyway."
"I didn't hit her, did I?" Mordecai's voice floated down the hallway. Malachai turned us around just enough so that I could see my other cousin standing about ten paces away with a civil war-era musket.
"Those things are notoriously inaccurate. You didn't kill me either."
"The shot is iron." Mordecai explained, lowering the now useless rifle. "You'll die quickly if you don't go back to the Otherside."
"And you'll just let me go?" Malachai seemed amused.
"I don't know." Mordecai replied vaguely. "It seems kind of dangerous, you being out for my blood and all."
"That is true." Malachai agreed.
The entire house seemed frozen, neither party about to move. Then suddenly Mickey went sailing past us, her crowbar taking a chunk out of the door frame as it just missed Malachai's head. Malachai danced out of the way, dragging me with him. He gracefully dodged Mickey's wild swings, ducking low as she mixed in a roundhouse kick. He pulled me up as a shield, and I took the brunt of her follow-up stroke with the crowbar. The kitchen spun and Mickey pulled back, horrified.
"Ta-ta, my friends," Malachai called cheerfully, now in the doorway Mickey had abandoned. "I'll see you later, little pretty." He whispered in my ear. There was an abrupt snap, a lot of pain, and the world went black.
Author's Notes:
Hey all. That was chapter two. Right into the action. I hate overly long build ups.
Like any good author who publishes online, I want reviews. Leave me a comment! Give me critique! What do you like, who do you hate? Is Nikki sympathetic enough as a heroine? How is our romantic interest-slash-villain? Please, the more you review a story, the more others are likely to read it. So if you think this is off to a good start, encourage me by dropping a line through the little button below.