First World(80)

I didn’t even flinch at the snarling venom in her low voice. I smiled sweetly as I lowered my own voice. “Seriously, boobs, you don’t scare me. I grew up in New York and ran in the ganglands. Hormonal women are the least of my worries. And if you don’t get your bitchy ass out of my house, I am going to break your nose.”

Lucy erupted into laughter as I explained what had happened.

“You called her ‘boobs’?”

At my nod, she snorted louder.

While we were relaxing, the boys were off playing some game on a huge felt-covered table. They’d tried to explain the rules, but it was beyond me. Some type of cross between pool and chess, with large colored balls and stone statue people that had to be moved around in a pattern.

I changed the subject from ‘boobs’.

“Thanks for the earrings too, Luce, I love them.” I reached up to touch the beautiful emerald-colored stone studs. That and my necklace were the only jewelry I had on.

She shrugged. “I did have a vintage tee stashed back home. But these will do.”

I laughed.

“So give me a quick rundown on the tales of Abby, First Worlder and Walker.” Lucy’s side profile looked both worried and intrigued.

I tilted my head back further, staring into the massive and ornate ceiling. In each corner someone had painted an angel warrior. They each had a weapon pointed to the centre of the room. It was spectacular and unusual all at the same time.

“Well, first there is the whole ‘half-Walker shouldn’t exist’ theory. I’m apparently the one to destabilize ... no demoralize ... no that’s not right either. Oh, right, I think it was destroy them.” I rolled my eyes as I mocked the over-dramatics of Walkers.

“Maybe it was ‘delight them with your duck-face’?” Lucy offered helpfully. “Maybe that’s the ‘d’ word you’re looking for?”

“Duck-face?” I questioned.

She shrugged. “I got caught up in the alliteration.”

Laughing, I continued again, my eyes still locked on the entrancing angels.

“The next one is where I might be the Empress of First World. Apparently my husband-to-be Lucas is a top dude.”

Lucy lost it then. She laughed until she was breathless. I would have laughed too, but unfortunately this was actually my life.

“And lastly, I’m setting out to find some half-Walkers – that don’t exist apparently – and prevent an apocalyptic universal battle of mother-effing proportions.” I threw my arm over my eyes. “You know: because I’m just that awesome.”

“And lucky,” Lucy tacked on, “don’t forget lucky.”

I snorted at the mere thought.

Lallielle interrupted us, appearing above our heads. “I have organized a little after-dinner in the sitting room downstairs.” She smiled down. “That way we can all be there when Aribella officially turns eighteen.”

As I looked down the long length of my tight black dress, I realized I had no idea how I was getting up off the floor. At least my shoes were off again, and nothing was making me put them back on. For the fiftieth time I flexed my pained toes.

“Lalli, you could have included a huge slit up the side of this dress,” I complained. “I can’t get my butt up off the floor.”

Josian appeared out of nowhere and hauled Lucy and me up together. He threw us each over a shoulder.

I gasped as he dashed from the room; his super speed was breath-stealing.

We ended up dropped together into one of the big soft couches downstairs.

“Superman at your service.” Josian got a total kick out of our descriptions of superheroes.

He was sure many of them were based on Walkers. Lucy giggled as she tried to sit up. Josian left us and we were there for at least ten minutes before the others made it to the room.

Quarn looked happier now the crowds were gone. He walked arm-in-arm with Francesca.

I guessed no one had told him that it was her false predictions that had sent us all to Earth. I still hadn’t really warmed to the soothsayer. She was unnerving, knowing things the way she did. Plus her eyes had never become any less creepy.

Brace, Samuel and Lallielle were the last of the group to arrive.

Josian stepped back into the room. In his arms he carried a massive bouquet of pink and purple roses.

Struggling out of the couch, I bounced over to him. “They’re gorgeous.”

“Happy birthday, baby girl.” He kissed my cheek. “These are menorial roses. If you put them into water, they won’t die.”

I was relieved to hear that. Much as I loved beautiful flowers, I hated that they died so quickly.

Lallielle organized a huge vase to be delivered, half full of water. I placed my roses one at a time. Their floral and deep musky scent filled the room.