Of course. The angels are here to help the ghouls prepare for another demon invasion. A shiver runs across my shoulders. Mom said Armageddon would never be happy with puppet-rule of Purgatory, and she was right. Again.
Cissy raises her hand. I feel a pang in my chest; I miss her. There must be some way to snap her out of this demon envy thing. She clears her throat. “Who exactly are we protecting and preparing for? Demons?”
The Old Timer sets his arms out, palms forward. “No, no, no. Nothing like that. Demons are our friends. Everyone knows that.” His eyes glow bright red.
I roll my eyes. Suuuuuuuuure they are.
“Let’s get started.” Tank blasts his whistle again. “I want you all to practice running around the yard, flailing your arms, and screaming ‘Take me! Take me!’ On my mark. Set. Go!”
The other kids break up into small groups and start walking around the field. Some get into the exercise and really ham it up. Cissy and Zeke stroll nearby, chatting and smiling. My heart finally cracks.
I walk over to Cissy and stand directly in her walking path. Our gazes meet. Her irises flare bright red.
Zeke scratches his neck with his hand. “I’ll leave you two to talk.” He quickly slips away.
Cissy keeps glaring at me, her eyes flaring brighter. This has so got to end, and much as I hate to do this, I think there is only one way to get her envy demon to go bye-bye.
“I may possibly consider going to the tournament. Maybe.” I flip my finger back and forth between her eyes. “But I need to talk to my friend Cissy and not envy-demon girl.”
Cissy inhales a long breath, her eyes slowly turning back to their original tawny brown.
Good. Now we’re getting somewhere.
She shakes her head from side to side. “That’s better, now.” She lets out a few breaths. “I think my envy demon got a little out of control there.”
I plant my fists on my hips. Now it’s time to let loose. “A little out of control? You didn’t talk to me for two weeks. You’ve been a bitch on wheels. And about what? Some guy.” I waggle my finger at her. “I’ve been totally patient with you through the whole Zekie-poo lovey-dovey boyfriend festival. All I do is get into a few fights with a guy and you LOSE IT. For the record, you totally and completely suck as a friend right now.”
Her hands pop over her mouth. “Oh my goodness. I do suck.”
“Completely.”
“I don’t know what to say, Myla.” Her eyes are lined with tears. “I lost control.” She wags her head. “You don’t have to go to the tournament if you don’t want to.”
I scratch my neck and frown. “No, I’ll go to the stupid tournament.”
Cissy grins, bouncing on her heels. “Thank you, Myla, thank you!” She wraps me in a big hug.
I stand stone-still, allowing her to hug me but not returning the motion. “On one condition.”
“Name it.”
“I want some serious apologizing for this totally unreasonable fit of extended jealousy.”
Cissy nods sagely. “You’re right. Way over the top.” She wags her eyebrows up and down. “How many, then? Two? Three?”
“Five.” I fold my arms over my chest. “You make me five pans of brownies. Different flavors. And no conning your Mom into doing it.”
“You got it. Thank you. So. Much.” She moves to give me another hug; I raise my palm, stopping her.
“And one last thing. If I’m going, I’ll do it my way.”
***
I slip out of my room and tiptoe to the front door of my house, the keys to Betsy in the pocket of my hoodie. Holding my breath, I wrap my fingers around the door handle.
Mom pops her head out of the kitchen. I’m so snagged.
“Where are you sneaking off to?” She steps toward me, her shoulders slumping. “Are you going to meet other top Arena fighters?” Her tail wraps around her hand. “I know they’re all part Furor demon too.”
Meeting Furor fighters on the sly? Where does she come up with this cockamamie stuff to worry about?
“I’ve met the other Arena fighters.” I shrug. “They’re fine.”
She sets her hand on her hip. “So, you’re not sneaking off to meet them?”
“Why would I do that?” I spin the keys around my finger. “Don’t get me wrong, they’re okay fighters, but…”
“Not as good as you.”
“Something like that.” They’re actually a bunch of washed-up has-beens, in my humble opinion. Don’t get me wrong, they could kick anyone’s ass in Purgatory, just not mine.
“So, what are you up to?”
“Look, I’m not going to meet any Furor fighters.” But I am going to the thrax tournament. I’m such a bad liar, I was hoping to sneak out without a Maternal Inquisition.
Her chocolate eyes narrow. “So, where are you going?”
“Hanging out with Cissy.” At a thrax tournament, but I leave that part out.
Mom stares at me for a long moment, then nods. “Okay, have fun.”
“Thanks, Mom. I’ll be back soon.” Because once they see I’m wearing sweats instead of some stupid ball gown, I’ll get to leave. My grin stretches extra wide.