Cinderella Assassin Page 2

  That was going to stain.

  Stilling, I waited for Sybil to yell at Ingrid. Silence filled the room. Ingrid stayed rooted to the ground. Sybil’s gaze narrowed at her daughters. Ilana smirked.

  “Elle hit Ingrid.” Ilana’s false accusation struck me, especially when she winked at her sister in conspiracy.

  Gaping, my gaze swiveled back and forth between the two of them. It had been obvious what had actually happened. I’d tried to save her from falling. Would Ingrid tell the truth?

  When the younger sister didn’t speak, I spoke for myself. “I did not.” I was so tired of taking the blame for things these two did, tired of doing their dirty work, tired of doing all the work around the house and getting no appreciation.

  It wouldn’t be much longer. A few more months until my Continuum.

  “Quit quibbling, Elle.” Sybil took the wet towel on the nightstand and wiped off her face. She stared at her daughters, ignoring me. “I expect both of you to be perfectly behaved at the ball.”

  A slight smile snuck on my face. Maybe Sybil did realize it was her daughters causing the trouble. She knew there was no need to tell me to behave. I always listened and did what I was told, followed the rules and the laws. Well, except for this morning.

  “Elle.” Sybil’s short tone had me rolling my eyes. What now? “Take that junk off Ingrid’s face.”

  The poor girl gripped the edge of the glido-chair and struggled to pull herself up. The silicon discs had fallen off and the green mask had been flattened and dripped in her eyes.

  “She’s got a few more minutes and I’m filing Ilana’s nails at this second.” Concentrating, I rounded a corner of her nail.

  Tension filled the air.

  Slowly, I lifted my head knowing what was coming. I shouldn’t have directly contradicted Sybil. It was like waving a red flag in front of a cyborg bull. I’d only stated a fact. They’re the ones who wanted to look perfect. The recipe called for a specific amount of time for the mask.

  Her nostrils flared and her cheeks puffed up about to explode in a fit. “Take care of her, now.” Each word was pronounced with emphasis.

  Do this. Do that. My fingers tingled. I clapped the file on the nightstand and fisted my hands to stop the sensation. Standing, I clasped Ingrid’s arm and helped her back on the chair, took a wet washcloth out of a small tub filled with water, and wiped the mask off her face.

  “You’re rubbing off my skin.” Ingrid’s fair complaint had me easing up to finish cleansing her face.

  “There.” I held up a hand mirror.

  Her skin shined from the deep cleaning. Ingrid was pretty and toning her skin added to her natural beauty. The point of her nose gleamed, and her strawberry blond eyebrows highlighted her eyes.

  “Oh wow.” She moved the mirror to peer at herself from every angle.

  Standing there, I waited for some kind of acknowledgement because this time was different. This wasn’t for fun or a school dance. This was for the prince.

  “I look great.” She turned to smile at her sister and mother, not even recognizing my existence.

  The tingling in my fingers progressed up to my hands and wrists. I fisted my hands and took a deep breath.

  “Do me! Do me!” Ilana raised her hand up and down imitating a monkey.

  “You could use a little more time.” Sybil’s unusual derogatory tone toward her daughter surprised. She normally fawned over the oldest believing she’d make a marriage match first and save the family. “You want to look your best for the prince. Clean my face.”

  Letting out a breath, I picked up the wash tub. Careful not to slosh over the edges, I moved slowly around to the other side of the bed. My eyes pricked and I squeezed the lids tight trying to control my unsettled emotions. Why was I surprised Ingrid didn’t thank me? Possibly because she was the nicer of the two.

  I would not cry in front of them. I would not let them see how their treatment affected me. I would not show weakness.

  “Don’t dawdle, Elle.” Sybil’s command jarred.

  The water in the bowl sloshed. I’d had to go to the park to collect the natural spring water for the facials. The book was very specific. A twig from a black birch tree floated around the remnants of Ingrid’s green goo. The golden berries had to be crushed by hand to make the potion. And a drop from the morning dew had been added. I took care with the recipe because it’s what my mother would’ve done. She’d made specific notes in the margins of the book explaining precisely the best way.

  If they hadn’t known about the natural recipes, they would’ve had to spend more creds on a zinc metallic facial mask, nail trimmer and varnisher, and narrow-band light therapy for their hair. Which I didn’t believe worked as well.

  “Could you walk any slower?” Sybil spoke as if I was a robot servant running low on batteries.

  “I don’t want the water to spill—”

  Ilana’s foot kicked out. I crashed into it, pain ratcheting up my leg. Losing my balance, the bowl wobbled in my hands. The water seemed to fizz and bubble. Water splashed over the edge getting my palms wet. My fingers shifted and the bowl slipped from my hands. I tried to grab it, to stop the bowl from falling. Instead, it crashed forward and flipped upside down.

  I froze, watching as the water plunged out of the bowl like a waterfall. Cascading forward. All over the bed. All over Sybil. All over everything.

  My eyes almost popped. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. The twig flew like an arrow and hit Sybil right between the eyes. The crushed berries and green goo smeared across Sybil’s large chest which was bare above the towel wrapped around her body. The blankets and sleep-sensing mattress were soaked. Splashes of the dirty water hit me and Ilana.

  Stupid, me. My klutziness had worsened once I’d turned sixteen. Sure, I’d tripped and dropped things before but now my awkwardness had magnified. Heat rushed through my veins and I wanted to disappear.

  “Elle!”

  I gawked at Sybil. The twig had just missed her eye and could have possibly done serious damage. Then, I stared into her dark pupils. What I saw caused me to tremble.

  Fury, rage, a willingness to do violence.

  Her nostrils flared cracking the green goo around her nose. Her lips pursed so tight I didn’t understand how she breathed through them. Her chin pointed like a knife. “You’re a bumbling, blundering, bungling idiot.”

  I didn’t realize she knew so many B words. A laugh tickled in my chest. Knowing I was going to get in huge, no behemoth, trouble, I clamped my mouth shut. But I couldn’t help seeing the funny side. If I didn’t laugh at times like this, I’d be crying.

  “You’re ignorant and lazy.” Sybil snatched the twig from her skin and a spot of blood formed.

  My cheeks puffed, torn between fear and humor. But if I laughed, I’d be in even more trouble. Not wanting to look at her anymore in case I couldn’t control my chuckle, I glanced toward the window.

  Arbor fluttered outside. I don’t know how long she’d been peeking in, but she held her stomach with both hands emphasizing a big, belly laugh. I knew she was laughing with me, not at me.

  There was no laughing inside the bedroom. Everyone else had gone still. Ilana lay on the bed, smirking, knowing this was her fault and that she wouldn’t get blamed. Ingrid had slipped off the chair and onto the floor. Maybe she was trying to hide a chuckle, too.

  Sybil took the edge of her soaking wet towel and wiped the mask off her face flicking the green goo onto the carpet. “If you ever accomplish Continuum—”

  “When.” There’d be no if.

  I had to advance through my Continuum. I had to get out of this place and be recognized as an adult. I had to graduate from technical school and get a job in order to claim my inheritance and be officially accepted into human society. The first step was attending the royal ball.

  Continuum was similar to a Quinceanera or a Bat Mitzvah, except it wasn’t religious and I didn’t have to wear a white dress like functions in the past. It was an offi
cial ceremony where I would be recognized as a Beta in adulthood. A human Beta adult. And then approved for college.

  “If,” Sybil snarled, “you accomplish Continuum and then attend college and officially take your place in society, you’ll be an embarrassment to my family. Ruin my daughters’ prospects.”

  “Not if I advance through Continuum first.” Ilana stood, shaking off what water had landed on her. She was in the same grade as me, but a few months older. Her Continuum would be earlier than mine.

  Originally, I believed this was good. By going second, I wouldn’t take the spotlight away from her. But what if Sybil tried to stop me?

  Ingrid flailed her hands as if wanting to point at me, but not wanting to. “You are an embarrassment, Elle. Look at what you wear all the time.”

  So much for her being the nicer one. The insults dug deeper and hurt longer coming from Ingrid. When we were alone, she usually expressed sympathy.

  Absorbing the pain, I glanced at my reflection in the mirror. Damp from the spill, my hair hung limply around my face. My dusky skin tone desperately needed a whitening powder and dark shadows sullied my green eyes. The oversized T-shirt hung loosely covering my non-existent figure. And, my jeans had rips and holes not because of an ancient fashion trend but because I’d worn the same pair over and over again for years.

  Firming my lips, I glared at my reflection. This was the poor and needy and ugly me they saw, not the me I wanted to become. I’d go to the ball, accomplish Continuum, attend tech college, and be welcomed into the human world. “I’m going to achieve Continuum.”

  Sybil tucked the soaking wet towel tighter around her body. “To be accepted for Continuum your credentials must be impeccable including from your guardian. One more slip…”

  The dangling intimidation made my blood run cold. If I failed, if I didn’t achieve Continuum and move forward with my life, she couldn’t keep me here as her slave forever, could she?

  Chapter Two

  Finally, I made it to the mall with only a couple of hours before the rented transportation pod whisked me, my stepsisters, and stepmom to the royal ball. What a pain they were. Ellery, do this. Ellery, do that. It was as if they didn’t have two completely functioning hands of their own.

  I was here now. I had creds. And…oh no…

  “Hide. SCUM entering the mall.” I directed the frantic whisper at Arbor, who quickly dove beneath my oversized T-shirt. I shouldn’t have brought my smoke sprite friend on this errand. She would be recognized instantly as a majik, questioned, and possibly imprisoned for no reason whatsoever.

  That’s how SCUM operated.

  Because they were scum. A group of humans charged with collecting fairytale creatures who broke the law. And what they could and couldn’t do—the specific laws for majiks—were changing daily and much stricter than human laws. I mean, I know what they taught in high school, but all majiks weren’t bad and all didn’t abuse their powers.

  Some couldn’t even control their magic.

  The glitzy modern mall couldn’t outlaw sprites or dwarves or ogres or fairies. But the government made it difficult with curfews and restrictions. And, the clerks could be hostile. Those working in expensive stores didn’t welcome majiks believing they would taint the products. Salespeople didn’t want to be tricked or enchanted.

  Arbor had begged to come, and I’d needed an opinion I could trust. Plus, she’d set up the meeting with the fairy this morning. I couldn’t leave her out now.

  With trembling knees and sparking fingers, I stood near the LED light fountain wiping my hands on my pants and biting my lip, trying not to appear suspicious. Which probably made me look more suspicious. Two clandestine meetings in one day.

  Give me a little free time and I go crazy.

  “Elle, what’re we going to do?” Arbor fluttered, the tickling sensation of her vapor almost made me giggle, except this was no laughing situation.

  “Stay quiet.” An impossibility for my small friend.

  “Where are the SCUM now? What’re they doing? Why are they here?” Each question pitched higher in her squeaky voice.

  The guards marched toward the fountain, their dark uniforms glowing with neon stripes. Their sinister faces were shadowed by the large bills of their hats. The stomping of their black boots on the shiny mall floor reminded me of gigantic robots squashing Will o’ the Wisps. Shoppers made way for the SCUM using their hover shoes to make graceful exits. My stepmother said she couldn’t afford to buy me hover shoes, although both of my stepsisters owned several pairs.

  My stomach jittered like a lightning bug creating flashes of heat. Standing in the middle of the courtyard, I couldn’t see anywhere to hide. I could run, but they’d wonder why and apprehend me. The laws about majiks constantly changed, and the SCUM had ultimate power.

  Better to play innocent. I was nervous for more than just my sprite friend.

  “Be quiet and don’t move.” I spoke without shifting my lips, keeping my gaze on the approaching guards.

  “What’re you staring at?” A SCUM with four glaring neon stripes announcing his high rank stopped only a few feet in front of me. His threatening tone caused my body to freeze, and fear raced through my impure veins.

  His uniformed cronies stood behind him, a big, unpassable wall.

  “No…nothing. Nothing.” Peering down so I wasn’t staring any longer, I shook my head. Frisking me would get us both handcuffed.

  “What’s your name?” His stinging-aggressive tone jerked me to alertness.

  My stepmother would kill me if I got arrested. “Ellery Milford. My friends call me Elle.” The SCUM didn’t care. They weren’t my friends and never would be.

  Maybe I should’ve used my father’s earl rank. A lower stature on the royalty scale, but it might have influence over the SCUM. Even with him gone, my stepmother used the title of lady. I wasn’t eligible yet. With my too big T-shirt, dirty jeans, and boots, the SCUM probably wouldn’t believe my claim.

  His gaze raked up and down my body. The spot where Arbor hid grew colder as the sprite’s smoke condensed to ice. Did the SCUM get a kick out of scaring people? In school, I was taught to respect authority and the government, although I had to wonder why the SCUM, and the teachers, acted so intimidating.

  Or maybe it was my constant fear of discovery.

  The guard continued to study me as if he knew I was inferior. When his lips moved his bushy mustache resembled a snake crawling on his face. “What’s your business at the mall?”

  My muscles loosened a bit. If I was going to the ball it meant I couldn’t be a majik. “I’m shopping for a dress for the royal ball.”

  “Cutting it a little close, aren’t you? The ball is tonight.” His glare slashed through me as though he could read my mind.

  I hoped they hadn’t obtained that particular skill. If they did, I could kiss my life goodbye. “Yes, I know.”

  How could I not know? How could anyone in the kingdom not know? This was Prince Zacharye’s Presentation Ball. His official Continuum, and the first step in taking over the ruling of the country from his uncle, Regent Theobald.

  The other guards chuckled. Not a friendly chuckle, a making-fun snicker. A kind of chortle I was used to at school. I’d built-up my defenses for being teased, but not interrogation.

  Ooh, I had another skill. Not magic. Something Arbor had taught me how to harness. Glancing behind me, I considered the only natural thing nearby—the water spurting from the fountain. Everything else in the mall was electronic, concrete, or man-made. Focusing on the water, I put my lips together and hummed.

  Every one of the four guards’ shoulders became less starchy. Their facial muscles softened, and their pupils lost the ferocious intensity.

  The main guard’s head lolled. “What’re you doing?”

  Alarm bells rang in my head and combined with the humming. “Um, hummmmmming.” I stretched the word into song. “I hummmmm whennnnn I’mmm nervous.”

  Some old saying said music tamed
the beast. Humming tamed the human.

  He tilted his head the other way, swaying with the music. “Get along then.”

  I fumbled a step back. I couldn’t turn around for fear they might see the bulge at my back. Ask more questions. Arrest both Arbor and me.

  Dismissing me, the SCUM headed for the food court with its sleek wall of vendo-cafes. People lined up waiting to electronically order the micro-delicacies. The five-star cuisine popped out tray after tray, and the scent of seasoned meat and cinnamon rolls wafted in my direction making my belly churn.

  A close call. Too close.

  “The SCUM left.”

  “Phew. That was scary.” Arbor reformed beneath my shirt. “I thought we both were goners.”

  “Stay hidden longer. I want to get away from them.”

  Strolling backwards, I took one careful step at a time. I didn’t want to fall and attract more attention. I wasn’t known for being the most graceful. Especially since the mishaps started. Shoppers stopped with their heavy bags to gape at my strange walking-backwards behavior. Probably wondering what crazy Alandaska-net stunt I participated in.

  I wish. A fad would be accepted. A majik not so much.

  “It’s clear, Arbor. You can come out.” I hoped no one else would create a stir about her presence. An uppity store clerk, a mean-spirited lady, a kid who enjoyed bullying.

  With a flutter of her wings, Arbor flew from under my shirt. “Why do SCUM have the authority to harass?”

  “The guards can stop and question anyone.”

  Majiks feared playing outside and strolling the skywalk. How fair was that?

  “I’m tired of hiding all the time. In the alley. At your house.” Her multi-colored hair spiked out in sharp edges. Not the kind of hair that blended.

  “You’re only hiding from the SCUM.” As long as fairytale creatures didn’t use their magic and followed the laws, they were supposedly safe from persecution. Humans couldn’t report majiks just for existing. At least not yet.