Wendy Higgins - Sweet Evil 3-Book Collection

To my mom, Nancy Parry, who always told me
Id be a writer someday

Contents

CONVENT OF OUR MOTHER
MARY, LOS ANGELES

Nearly sixteen years ago...

T he newborn wailed as the midwife wrapped her in a receiving blanket and quickly handed her to Sister Ruth. Even stooped with age, the oldest nun at the convent exuded a regal air as she shushed the tiny bundle, attempting to shield her from the sight of her mothers last breaths.

In the corner of the sterile room a large man with a smooth, shaved head and goatee stood watching. Darkness fell over his face as the young midwife tried to resuscitate the woman on the bed.

Sweat ran down the midwifes temples as she continued chest compressions. She shook her head and spoke in a panicked murmur. Wheres the doctor? He should be here by now!

The midwife didnt see the soft shimmer of mist rise from the patients chest, then linger in the air above her body, but the man in the corner did.

His eyes widened as another vapor, even stronger than the first, arose from the womans lifeless form. It took shape: a winged being of blinding purity. Sister Ruth gasped in wonder, then shifted the baby from her shoulder and cradled her upward to let her face show.

The larger spirit swooped down and covered the infant girl in a kiss as soft as a breeze. It moved next to the man in the corner, who choked out a single sob, reaching for her. A tear escaped before he reined in his emotion.

The spirit remained in front of him for one moment longer before gathering the weaker spirit into her arms and floating away as if on a wisp of wind.

Im sorry. II dont know what happened. The midwifes voice and hands shook as she pulled the sheet up over the womans small body. She crossed herself and closed her eyes.

You did all you could, Sister Ruth said with gentleness. It was her time.

The silent, fearsome man looked away from the bed and fixed his hard eyes on the baby.

Sister Ruth hesitated before angling the child outward for him to see. The newborn let out a whimper and her dark eyes opened wide. For the briefest moment his features softened.

Their shared gaze was severed as the door banged open and the midwife screamed. Police rushed in, filling the small space. Sister Ruth backed against the wall and held the baby close.

Dear God above, she whispered.

The man in the corner appeared unfazed as cops surrounded him.

Jonathan LaGray? asked the officer in front. Also known as John Gray?

Thats me, he responded in a raspy, gruff voice, lifting his frown-lined face into a wicked smile of defiance and danger.

He did not fight when they surged forward with handcuffs, reading him his rights.

Youre under arrest for trafficking illegal drugs across state and international borders....

As they pulled Jonathan LaGray from the room, citing a list of crimes, he turned again to look at the baby girl, giving her a tight, ironic grin.

Just say no to drugs, will ya, kid?

With that, he was yanked from sight, and the babys wail rose again.

Pleasure is the bait of sin.

Plato

I tugged the jean skirt down and tried not to fidget with the straps of the tank top as we stood in line for the show. My shoulders and arms felt naked. The outfit had been picked out for me by Jays older sister as an early sixteenth-birthday present. And Jay got us tickets to see a few local bands play, including his latest band infatuation, Lascivious. Their name alone was a strike against them, but I wore a smile on my face for Jays sake.

He was my best friend, after all. My only friend.

People at school assumed something was going on with Jay and me, but they were wrong. I didnt like him like that, and there was no question he didnt like me in that way either. I knew his feelings.

I could literally see them. And feel them if I allowed myself.

Jay was in his element now, tapping his fingers against his hips. He radiated excitement that I could see around his body as a blinding yellow-orange hue. I let myself soak in his good mood. He ran a hand over his thick, short-cropped blond hair, then pinched the square tuft of hair under his bottom lip. He was stout and short for a guy, but still a good bit taller than me.

A loud song with a thumping beat rang from Jays pocket. He gave me a goofy grin and began to bop his head back and forth to the rhythm. Oh, nonot the crazy booty dance.

Please dont, I begged.

Jay broke into his funky ringtone dance, shoulders bouncing and hips moving from side to side. People around us stepped away, surprised, then began to laugh and cheer him on. I pressed my fingers against my lips to hide an embarrassed smile. Just as the ringtone was about to end, he gave a little bow, straightened up, and answered the call.

Sup? he said. Dude, were still in line; where you at? Ah, it must have been Gregory. Did you bring our CDs?... All right. Sweet. See you in there.

He shoved the phone into his pocket.

I rubbed my bare arms. It had been a gorgeous spring day in Atlanta, but the air temperature dropped when the sun disappeared behind the tall buildings. We lived an hour north in the small town of Cartersville. It was strange to be in the city, especially at night. Streetlights came to life above us, and the crowd grew louder with the arrival of dusk.

Dont look now, Jay leaned over to whisper, but the dude at three oclock is checking you out.

I immediately looked and Jay grunted. How funnythe guy really was looking at me. Albeit with bloodshot eyes. He gave me a nod and I had to suppress a ridiculously girly giggle as I turned back around. I busied myself playing with a strand of my dirty-blond hair.

You should talk to him, Jay said.

No way.

Why not?

Hes... high, I whispered.

You dont know that.

But I did. The colors of someones emotions blurred when their bodies were under the influence. That guys were fuzzy at best.

Seeing emotions as colors was an extension of my ability to sense others feelings, their auras. Id had the gift since infancy. The color spectrum was complicated, as were emotions, with shades of a color meaning different things. To simplify, positive feelings were always colors, ranging from bright to pastel. Negative feelings were shades of black, with a few exceptions. Envy was green. Pride was purple. And lust was red. That was a popular one.

The colors mesmerized me, the way they shifted and changed, sometimes slow, and sometimes in rapid succession. I tried not to read people constantly or to stare; it seemed like an invasion of privacy. Nobody knew what I could do, not even Jay or my adoptive mother, Patti.

The line for the club moved slowly. I adjusted my skirt again and looked down to evaluate the decency of its length. Its fine, Anna. At least my legs had a little muscle these days, instead of looking like a pair of toothpicks. Although Id been pegged with nicknames like Twiggy and Sticks growing up, I didnt obsess about my figure, or lack of one. Padded bras were a helpful invention, and I was satisfied with the two small indentations in my sides that passed for a waist. Running had become my new pastime five weeks ago, after Id read how my body is the temple of my soul.

Healthy temple: check.

As we moved up a few more steps, Jay rubbed his palms together.

You know, he said, I could probably get us drinks when we get inside.

No drinks, I immediately answered, my heart quickening its pace.