Unforgiven (Fallen, #5)

“The best electric-guitar player this school’s ever seen,” Jean said, shrugging at Lilith. “Sorry, but Cam could really round out our sound.”


“A vote, then,” Cam suggested eagerly. “All those in favor of letting me into Revenge?”

The three boys raised their hands.

Lilith rolled her eyes. “This is not a democracy. I don’t…I don’t—”

“You don’t have a good reason to say no?” Cam asked.

It was true. She didn’t. Lilith had a million dumb reasons to tell Cam to leave the rehearsal, to go away forever. But she didn’t have a single legitimate one.

“Trial period,” she said finally, through gritted teeth. “One practice. Then I make the final decision.”

“Good enough for me,” Cam said.

Lilith jerked the butcher paper off the mystery object—and found herself holding a glittering disco ball. Even in the dingy light of the band room, it sparkled. She glanced at Cam, remembering that the first time she’d said she wanted to name her band Revenge, Cam had laughed and said they’d need a big synthesizer and a disco ball. Jean had contributed the Moog, and now Cam had brought the disco.

“Can we stop staring at that thing and play?” Luis asked.

Cam pulled his guitar case from the closet and winked at Lilith. That same annoying wink, only…this time she didn’t mind so much. “Let us rock.”



“Bitch, you’re standing in my way,” Chloe King said.

For the first time, Lilith had been looking forward to lunch in the cafeteria, because she would have people to sit with. Her band.

She’d forgotten about Chloe.

“I was just admiring your new ink,” Lilith said, nodding at Chloe’s chest, which bore a brand-new tattoo. The skin around it was still red and raw, but she recognized the scrawling letters of Ike Ligon’s signature just above the neckline of Chloe’s low-cut shirt. Lilith thought the tattoo was ugly, but it ignited a flash of envy in her anyway. She didn’t have the money to make such an obvious suck-up gesture to the Four Horsemen. She barely had enough money for the turkey sandwich on her tray.

The three Perceived Slights fanned out behind Chloe. Kara crossed her arms over her chest, and Teresa had a hungry look in her hazel eyes, like she’d pounce on Lilith if she tried to attack Chloe again. June was the only one slacking at being a stereotypical mean girl, plucking split ends distractedly from her blond hair.

Chloe put a hand up to keep Lilith at a distance. “If you can read my tattoo, you’re too close. I should get a restraining order after what you did the other day.”

A part of Lilith wanted to throw down her tray and rip Chloe’s tattoo right out of her skin.

But it was a smaller, quieter part of her today. The bigger part of Lilith was preoccupied with thoughts of her band: changes she wanted to make to one chorus, ideas for a drum solo she wanted to bounce off Luis, even—she had to admit—a question she wanted to ask Cam about his guitar technique. For the first time, Lilith had too much good stuff knocking around in her mind to let rage overtake her.

I believe in Lilith, Cam had said earlier, in the band room. And it had stuck with her. Maybe it was time Lilith started believing in herself.

“You’re a straight-up bitch clown, Lilith,” Chloe said. “Always have been, always will be.”

“What does that even mean?” Lilith asked. “No, never mind.” She swallowed. “I’m sorry I pulled out your weave. I thought I was defending my brother, but I was just being a jerk.”

Kara nudged June, who let go of the split end she was picking and started paying attention.

“I know,” Chloe said, a little stunned. “Thank you for saying that.” Then, wordlessly, she summoned her friends, nodded once at Lilith, and left the cafeteria, leaving Lilith with the new experience of eating lunch in peace.



When Lilith swung by her homeroom class after lunch, Mrs. Richards looked up from her computer guardedly. “Your detention is nonnegotiable, Ms. Foscor.”

“I’m not here to try to get out of it.” Lilith pulled up a chair next to her teacher. “I came to apologize for skipping class, for being late so much, for generally being the kind of student teachers dread.”

Mrs. Richards blinked, then took off her glasses. “What brought on this change of attitude?”

Lilith wasn’t sure where to start. Bruce was back in school. Her mother had been treating her like a human. Her band felt whole and right. She’d even attempted to reconcile with Chloe King. Things were going so well, Lilith didn’t want it to stop.

“My brother’s been sick,” she said.

“I’m aware of that,” Mrs. Richards said. “If you need time off or extensions on your assignments, the faculty can work with you, but you’ll need documentation from your mother or a doctor. You can’t just run out of class whenever you feel like it.”