Read Online Nightingale Girl by M. R. Pritchard - Free Book Online
Authors: M. R. Pritchard
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smile as I sign the credit card receipt.
“Thank you.” They’re going to be cursing my name when they see the mess we left in there.
I meet Sparrow at the car and hand him the pamphlet on the bird sanctuary.
He smiles.
After taking a quick look around, I start the van and begin driving out of the parking lot, heading for the highway.
“Meg . . .”
I pull over at the sound of fear in Sparrow’s voice.
“Spar—” I begin to ask.
Oh no! He’s fading—his entire being is fading before my eyes, his transparency increasing until I can see the pleather of the seat he’s sitting in.
“I think I love you.” His voice is strange—faraway sounding. “I love you, right?”
“Yeah. You told me you do.” I get an uneasy feeling in my gut. The tattoo on my chest burns.
Sparrow tips his head to the side, and his fingers slide through the soft feathers of the duster on his lap. “This world is moving too fast for me.” He looks at me and blinks. “What’s your name again?”
I die inside.
He drops the feather duster on the floor.
Poof.
He’s gone. Disappeared before my eyes in a puff of dust. The only thing left in his place is a single feather.
“Sparrow!” I scream.
The Hellions have called.
HELLFIRE AND BRIMSTONE
The honeymoon is over. I can feel it in my bones. I had a few weeks of comfort and puppy love with Sparrow. Nauseatingly sweet. Almost changed who I was. In the moments since Sparrow’s disappearance, I think back and wonder, Who was that person? Having him taken from me like this, I feel the old Meg slam full force to the forefront of my being. Someone is going to pay. I grab my blade and my wallet, and look longingly at the snacks piled up in the back seat.
I get out and strap the blade to my thigh and then focus. Sparrow can only be in one place.
I poof myself to Hell.
Hell is the dark and dingy reflection of Earth. Everything here is the same: countries, cities, towns, and stores. And the walking dead are everywhere, moaning and shuffling, knocking into each other like cows in a crowded pasture.
I’m standing just outside the burning caves, ready to run inside the dwelling and rip everyone on two legs to shreds. Before I get a chance to follow my instincts, my mother’s figure appears at the entrance to the caves. She floats toward me, her lips a bright cherry red, her hair and eyes dark as night, her skin a ghostly porcelain white. She touches my face with cold fingers. “Child?”
“Where is Sparrow?” I ask in near hysterics.
“Oh, child.” Clea reaches for me.
“No!” I move away from her, but the walking dead surrounding us keep me from getting too far.
I touch the weapon strapped to my thigh. It hums to life, ready to protect me.
“Meg.” My mother’s voice is soft and demanding. “Easy. Things are happening in there.”
“They took him. They took Sparrow!”
The dead prevent me from running away like I want to. Instantly I am reminded of the months I spent in the county lockup of Hell, alone, with the dead grabbing at me through the bars of my cell. I ate fresh rats to stay alive. I shiver.
“Calm yourself.” Clea reaches both of her arms out. “Child, what’s done is done. It is required. He’s still yours. Together you will be invincible, I promise you this. But he is undergoing the change and needs time.”
“No.” I want to scream so loud that every soul in Hell will hear me. “I want him back! Now!”
“You need distance. Come with me.”
I start to shove her and move away, but my mother, although truly dead, is the daughter of Lucifer; she has more power down here than I ever will. I give up and allow her to walk me away from the entrance of the burning caves.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“He needs space. The change will take over. He needs distance from you. This time is dangerous.”
Of course it’s dangerous. The Hellions are the warriors of Hell—worse than Demons. Stronger, viler, and more vicious.
In a wisp of
“Thank you.” They’re going to be cursing my name when they see the mess we left in there.
I meet Sparrow at the car and hand him the pamphlet on the bird sanctuary.
He smiles.
After taking a quick look around, I start the van and begin driving out of the parking lot, heading for the highway.
“Meg . . .”
I pull over at the sound of fear in Sparrow’s voice.
“Spar—” I begin to ask.
Oh no! He’s fading—his entire being is fading before my eyes, his transparency increasing until I can see the pleather of the seat he’s sitting in.
“I think I love you.” His voice is strange—faraway sounding. “I love you, right?”
“Yeah. You told me you do.” I get an uneasy feeling in my gut. The tattoo on my chest burns.
Sparrow tips his head to the side, and his fingers slide through the soft feathers of the duster on his lap. “This world is moving too fast for me.” He looks at me and blinks. “What’s your name again?”
I die inside.
He drops the feather duster on the floor.
Poof.
He’s gone. Disappeared before my eyes in a puff of dust. The only thing left in his place is a single feather.
“Sparrow!” I scream.
The Hellions have called.
HELLFIRE AND BRIMSTONE
The honeymoon is over. I can feel it in my bones. I had a few weeks of comfort and puppy love with Sparrow. Nauseatingly sweet. Almost changed who I was. In the moments since Sparrow’s disappearance, I think back and wonder, Who was that person? Having him taken from me like this, I feel the old Meg slam full force to the forefront of my being. Someone is going to pay. I grab my blade and my wallet, and look longingly at the snacks piled up in the back seat.
I get out and strap the blade to my thigh and then focus. Sparrow can only be in one place.
I poof myself to Hell.
Hell is the dark and dingy reflection of Earth. Everything here is the same: countries, cities, towns, and stores. And the walking dead are everywhere, moaning and shuffling, knocking into each other like cows in a crowded pasture.
I’m standing just outside the burning caves, ready to run inside the dwelling and rip everyone on two legs to shreds. Before I get a chance to follow my instincts, my mother’s figure appears at the entrance to the caves. She floats toward me, her lips a bright cherry red, her hair and eyes dark as night, her skin a ghostly porcelain white. She touches my face with cold fingers. “Child?”
“Where is Sparrow?” I ask in near hysterics.
“Oh, child.” Clea reaches for me.
“No!” I move away from her, but the walking dead surrounding us keep me from getting too far.
I touch the weapon strapped to my thigh. It hums to life, ready to protect me.
“Meg.” My mother’s voice is soft and demanding. “Easy. Things are happening in there.”
“They took him. They took Sparrow!”
The dead prevent me from running away like I want to. Instantly I am reminded of the months I spent in the county lockup of Hell, alone, with the dead grabbing at me through the bars of my cell. I ate fresh rats to stay alive. I shiver.
“Calm yourself.” Clea reaches both of her arms out. “Child, what’s done is done. It is required. He’s still yours. Together you will be invincible, I promise you this. But he is undergoing the change and needs time.”
“No.” I want to scream so loud that every soul in Hell will hear me. “I want him back! Now!”
“You need distance. Come with me.”
I start to shove her and move away, but my mother, although truly dead, is the daughter of Lucifer; she has more power down here than I ever will. I give up and allow her to walk me away from the entrance of the burning caves.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“He needs space. The change will take over. He needs distance from you. This time is dangerous.”
Of course it’s dangerous. The Hellions are the warriors of Hell—worse than Demons. Stronger, viler, and more vicious.
In a wisp of
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