Read Online Dance of Ashes and Smoke (Age of Monsters Book 1) by Harley Gordon - Free Book Online
Authors: Harley Gordon
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going, when she’s going there, and what direction she’s taking. And anything else that might be the slightest bit helpful.”
Thankfully, he was clever enough not to ask me any asinine questions and continued to shoot off texts. I gnawed off most of my remaining fingernails while we waited for responses. Olivia stumbled out, a wet rag held on the back of her neck.
I met her eyes, fire sparking from mine. “We’re going to find a way to end her. I don’t care how long it takes.”
I t was taking too long.
The sorceress had left three days before and we were still stuck at Jackson’s, climbing the walls with frustration and sorrow because the monsters had doubled their patrols. Werewolves were stationed along the borders of the city, dragon shifters flew overhead, magics cast spells to imbue the fences with even more danger. And collaborators watched for any little slip up to gain favor.
But the Uprising message boards had a hit, asking for help with what sounded like her style. It was the only lead we had and Liv and I refused to let some pesky patrols and spells stop us.
It was the only thing getting me out of Jackson’s bed when all I wanted to do was erect a blanket fort around myself and never emerge. Which I still planned to do as soon as I’d avenged mine and Liv’s families.
Liv and I cuddled up under a pile of Jackson’s blankets as we waited for him to return with our stuff from the garage, silent, but comforting each other in our grief and hopelessness.
I turned towards her, the sheet billowing above our heads. “We can’t keep going like this. We should at least train while we’re stuck here.”
She nodded. “I know. I’m disgusted with us both. At least Jax has kept us from completely unraveling.”
I couldn’t deny the truth of her words. “He’s made it a little easier, hasn’t he? He’s not too hard to look at either.”
She faked a gasp. “Did you just say something nice about him?”
“She did. I heard it.”
We jumped, then ripped the covers off to see Jackson, a goofy grin taking up most of his face. My face heated up as I scrambled for a way to take it back.
The bed shook beneath me as Liv laughed into the pillow. I cleared my throat and dove for my bag and weapons, hugging my favorite sword to my chest. It was the kind that broke into two. Mom had bought it for me for my fifteenth birthday. I’d always loved swords.
Needing to be surrounded by stuff from home, I dumped out my bag on the floor and sat in the middle of it. A few favorite books with photos shoved between the pages I wasn’t ready to see, duct tape, ammo, my Clash tee like the one I’d borrowed from Jax, camping gear, burner phones and chargers, and a dozen other odds and ends we might need.
Most of our stuff from home went up in flames—other than the few things Liv and I grabbed. Mostly clothes and blankets. I tried not to be disappointed, knowing we’d need everything I’d packed, but I had hoped for more precious objects. I guessed there hadn’t been enough room especially since we’d traveled by motorcycles.
Jackson cleared his throat. “I thought you might want to look through this.”
I looked up and fought tears as I took Alcott’s bag from him. “Thanks.” He and Liv left the room.
I shoved everything back into mine first, leaving the books on top to look through later. I’d need the reminder; I’d need the courage. I didn’t dump Al’s, but reached in and pulled items out one at a time.
Most of it was the same as mine, useful stuff to keep us alive. But at the bottom I found his treasures. Mom’s copy of Little Women by her favorite author who she and Dad named Alcott after. Tucked inside was Dad’s favorite print of Monet’s, the one with poppy fields. It was small, the size of a greeting card, but he’d thought to stick it in the book. Why had he never told me?
I stroked the picture, thinking of the large copy hanging above our fireplace back at our real home.
Thankfully, he was clever enough not to ask me any asinine questions and continued to shoot off texts. I gnawed off most of my remaining fingernails while we waited for responses. Olivia stumbled out, a wet rag held on the back of her neck.
I met her eyes, fire sparking from mine. “We’re going to find a way to end her. I don’t care how long it takes.”
I t was taking too long.
The sorceress had left three days before and we were still stuck at Jackson’s, climbing the walls with frustration and sorrow because the monsters had doubled their patrols. Werewolves were stationed along the borders of the city, dragon shifters flew overhead, magics cast spells to imbue the fences with even more danger. And collaborators watched for any little slip up to gain favor.
But the Uprising message boards had a hit, asking for help with what sounded like her style. It was the only lead we had and Liv and I refused to let some pesky patrols and spells stop us.
It was the only thing getting me out of Jackson’s bed when all I wanted to do was erect a blanket fort around myself and never emerge. Which I still planned to do as soon as I’d avenged mine and Liv’s families.
Liv and I cuddled up under a pile of Jackson’s blankets as we waited for him to return with our stuff from the garage, silent, but comforting each other in our grief and hopelessness.
I turned towards her, the sheet billowing above our heads. “We can’t keep going like this. We should at least train while we’re stuck here.”
She nodded. “I know. I’m disgusted with us both. At least Jax has kept us from completely unraveling.”
I couldn’t deny the truth of her words. “He’s made it a little easier, hasn’t he? He’s not too hard to look at either.”
She faked a gasp. “Did you just say something nice about him?”
“She did. I heard it.”
We jumped, then ripped the covers off to see Jackson, a goofy grin taking up most of his face. My face heated up as I scrambled for a way to take it back.
The bed shook beneath me as Liv laughed into the pillow. I cleared my throat and dove for my bag and weapons, hugging my favorite sword to my chest. It was the kind that broke into two. Mom had bought it for me for my fifteenth birthday. I’d always loved swords.
Needing to be surrounded by stuff from home, I dumped out my bag on the floor and sat in the middle of it. A few favorite books with photos shoved between the pages I wasn’t ready to see, duct tape, ammo, my Clash tee like the one I’d borrowed from Jax, camping gear, burner phones and chargers, and a dozen other odds and ends we might need.
Most of our stuff from home went up in flames—other than the few things Liv and I grabbed. Mostly clothes and blankets. I tried not to be disappointed, knowing we’d need everything I’d packed, but I had hoped for more precious objects. I guessed there hadn’t been enough room especially since we’d traveled by motorcycles.
Jackson cleared his throat. “I thought you might want to look through this.”
I looked up and fought tears as I took Alcott’s bag from him. “Thanks.” He and Liv left the room.
I shoved everything back into mine first, leaving the books on top to look through later. I’d need the reminder; I’d need the courage. I didn’t dump Al’s, but reached in and pulled items out one at a time.
Most of it was the same as mine, useful stuff to keep us alive. But at the bottom I found his treasures. Mom’s copy of Little Women by her favorite author who she and Dad named Alcott after. Tucked inside was Dad’s favorite print of Monet’s, the one with poppy fields. It was small, the size of a greeting card, but he’d thought to stick it in the book. Why had he never told me?
I stroked the picture, thinking of the large copy hanging above our fireplace back at our real home.
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