Page 15 of Vicious Desire (Fallen Royals 4)

Our running schedules occasionally lined up, and that’s how she talked me into joining the cross-country team this year.

Cross-country.

My very first friend at Emery-Rose made sure I didn’t do that sport. She stuck her claws in me, claimed me—that’s in her words, by the way. Amelie Page was a force to be reckoned with, even at fifteen years old.

Maybe she meant to keep me away from Eli.

It didn’t work.

“Honey, why are you outside?” Mom stands in the doorway.

Fuzzy gray slippers, her threadbare robe wrapped tightly around her. She squints in the sunlight, raising a hand to block her eyes.

“I…” don’t have a good excuse. I slip past her, into the house, and let out a small breath when she closes and locks the door. “Are you hungry?”

She smiles. “I had some soup while you were at school. How was cheer practice?”

Noah appears over her shoulder, scowling. “Mom, Riley—”

“They don’t start until next week,” I lie.

She nods and touches my cheek. “The running is good, but I’m worried it’ll make you too skinny. Boys prefer a girl with curves nowadays.”

“Mom,” Noah says again.

She drifts in his direction.

Sometimes I think she’s become a ghost, and none of us realized until it was too late. Now she haunts the house, half in this world and half in the next.

The same old question bounces around in my head. How do I get her back?

She passes him, pressing a faint kiss to his cheek, and heads to the stairs. She moves silently, her robe now loose and trailing behind her.

Going, going…

Gone.

My brother and I trade a look.

“Pizza,” he says at the same time I do.

I nod. “Yell when it gets here.”

I follow Mom upstairs. She’s back in her room, shut away tight, and I slip into mine. I examine the water bottle in my hand. Dirt smudges the bottom, but otherwise it’s exactly the same.

It’s not a bomb. Before I lose my nerve—again resisting the instinct to throw it—I set it on my desk and turn away.

As soon as I’m dressed, I go find Noah. He’s on the couch in the living room, feet propped up on the coffee table and phone in his face. I flop next to him, and he drops the phone on his chest.

“How was cheer practice?”

I flick his ear. “Don’t be a jackass.”

He swats at my hand. “Don’t let Mom get away with that shit. She should know that you quit the cheerleading team two years ago.”

I raise my eyebrow. Up until two months ago, I don’t think Noah even knew. He was in his own little world. We all have been.

“Cross-country was okay.” It’s better to change the subject than go down that path. “We’re just doing a lot of drills to get in shape. Shorter runs as a whole team. I think Coach is trying to determine where everyone is.”

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