Bitter Bite (Elemental Assassin #14)

Finn rolled his eyes. “Of course, you don’t think it’s a good idea. You never think anything fun is good.”

He went back to stringing up white lights along the fireplace mantel in the den. I shifted from one foot to the other, my stomach twisting into tight knots, but I didn’t try to stop him. I had no right to. After all, this was his dad’s house. I was just a guest here. At least, that’s how I still felt sometimes, even though I’d been living with Fletcher for almost a year now.

The old man had gone off on some assassin job as the Tin Man and wouldn’t be back until morning. He’d wanted Finn and me to spend the night at Jo-Jo’s, but Finn had griped that he was sixteen now and Fletcher had to start leaving him alone sometime. After an hour of arguing on Finn’s part, the old man had reluctantly agreed. Even though I would never tell him so, I’d thought Finn was right. Neither one of us was a kid. Not after all the bad things we’d seen and done.

What I hadn’t realized was that Finn had a secret agenda.

Sure, he wanted to be trusted enough to be left home alone. But he also planned to throw a massive party.

The second the old man left, Finn had started calling up all his friends.

“Hey, man. Yep, my dad’s gone, just like I planned. Why don’t you guys come over about eight? Sure, it’s cool if you bring your own beer . . .”

He’d had the same conversation with a dozen people. After he’d finished his calls, he raced up to the attic, carried down several boxes of Christmas lights, and strung them up all over the house, as if the small white glows would hide all the clutter, mismatched furniture, and assorted junk that Fletcher had accumulated. Finn also taped up a couple of old silver disco balls on the ceiling.

He had gone into the kitchen and arranged cold cuts, carrot sticks, and more food from the fridge on platters and then filled bowls with chips, pretzels, and popcorn. He had also set out cans of soda, along with bottles of gin, Scotch, and other liquor from Fletcher’s office. For a final touch, he’d hooked up an old stereo system in the den and tuned it to a popular radio station.

“Hey, Gin,” Finn called out now. “Hand me some more tape. I need to get this final string of lights up before anyone gets here.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “You’re going to get into so much trouble. Fletcher’s going to find out. You know he will.”

The old man was downright spooky when it came to figuring out Finn’s latest schemes and how he was plotting to get around Fletcher’s rules, whether it was about homework or curfew or doing his chores. But Finn was just as stubborn as the old man, and he kept right on doing exactly what he wanted, no matter how many times Fletcher punished him.

Finn grinned, but his smile was more calculating than kind. “He won’t find out if you don’t tell him. And since you haven’t called him or Jo-Jo yet, well, I’d say that makes you just as guilty as me now. Wouldn’t you?”

I shifted on my feet again. I hadn’t called anyone because I hadn’t wanted to get into trouble. Fletcher said that he loved me, that I was part of his family, now and forever, but we weren’t related.

We weren’t blood.

The truth was that Fletcher could kick me out anytime he wanted to, and I couldn’t help but think that he would if I ever pissed him off enough. Like by letting a bunch of kids eat his food, guzzle his booze, and trash his house.

“Come on, Gin,” Finn said, his voice taking on a wheedling note. “If you think we’re going to get into trouble anyway, then we might as well go ahead and have the fun now. Make all that punishment really worth it in the end.”

He winked and slowly widened his grin, trying to charm me the way I’d seen him charm countless other girls. Finn was cute, but I wasn’t stupid enough to get suckered in by a pretty face. Still, it was easier to go along with him than it was to protest. Besides, he was right. He’d already done all the work and called everyone, so it wasn’t like he could cancel the party. Not without looking like a complete loser in front of his friends, something Finn would do anything to avoid. Being cool and popular was more important to him than anything else.

“All right,” I muttered. “But you can tell Fletcher that it was all your idea.”

Finn grinned again, knowing that he’d won. “Sure. I’ll tell him that very thing. Now, grab the tape and help me with the lights.”

I sighed, thinking that no party was going to be worth the weeks of no TV, extra chores, and other punishments we’d get from Fletcher, but I helped Finn finish stringing up the lights.

We’d just taped the last strand to the mantel when a knock sounded on the front door.

Finn gave me a sharp look. “Just be cool tonight, okay? Or as cool as you can be. As long as you don’t act like a whiny Goody Two-shoes, everything will be fine. You’ll see.”