Play at Soul's Edge Read online

  Play at Soul’s Edge

  Sophia Amador

  ALFORD MARR PRESS

  Seattle, Washington

  Copyright © 2016 by Alford Marr Press. All rights reserved.

  First print edition: October 2016

  ISBN: 978-1-943881-02-4

  Cover by Christian Fuenfhausen

  Published by Alford Marr Press

  www.alfordmarr.com

  This book is provided for your personal enjoyment only. All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All characters portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental. This book, or any parts of it, may not be reproduced without permission, except for common re-use purposes such as reviews and minimal, acknowledged quotations.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  Elisa

  THREE CONCENTRIC DIAMONDS slashed the wall, spray-painted in glittering black strokes. A symbol Elisa had come to know all too well. Her lip throbbed with remembered pain, and she almost turned back. After all, it was kind of stupid to risk her life—or more—for the truth, wasn’t it?

  She stood at the end of a long, unfamiliar corridor. She rarely visited this part of the school. Half the ceiling fluorescents had gone dark and the rest flickered a sickly, pale pink. Shattered glass glinted in the corners. Her fingernails burrowed into her palms, and when she unclenched her hand, three tiny crescents glistened with pinpoints of sweat.

  In the wavering light, Cesar stood ramrod-straight before the metal double doors that led to the basement, impeccably dressed in a sleeveless white linen tunic and perfectly pressed khakis. Long braids hung below his shoulders and brushed his muscular arms. He glared at Elisa as she approached.

  “You can’t go in there.” He stepped in front of the door.

  “Adrian told me to come.” She didn’t even blink at the lie. Not anymore.

  “What evidence do I have of that?”

  She swallowed, but she had to go on. She had to know what was really happening. It was time to draw upon all the tricks she had unwillingly learned these past six months since the start of senior year. “You know who I am, right? Who I am to Adrian?” She lifted her chin. “He wouldn’t want you to go against his orders.”

  He eyed her for a few long moments. Then he stepped aside, his face expressionless.

  She slipped inside before he could change his mind. Her legs were shaky, and she clung to the railing for balance, placing her feet carefully on the metal stairs. She stopped short on the landing. Voices rose from below. In the dim basement, a dozen people stood in a rough semi-circle around a girl with her head bowed so only her dark, close-cropped hair was visible. On a raised platform at one end of the room, lounging in a black armchair, sat Adrian. His bangs fell over his face, and the faint light reflected off his glasses.

  “So, you no longer want to be a courier for me, Keisha?” Adrian’s voice was soft. “In that case, you’re no longer of any use to me.” He glanced at the boy leaning against the back wall and nodded once. “Rory.”

  “Aww, not my new bestie,” Rory mocked. He strode forward, reaching into his jacket. He gripped Keisha’s collar, slammed her shoulder hard with his elbow, and pinned her against the wall. She stared defiantly up at him. Light glinted off a long blade.

  Elisa snuck down another step.

  1

  Elisa

  LUNCH WITH ELISA’S FRIENDS could be a dangerous event. She never knew whether she was risking her life simply by eating a peanut butter sandwich. And it wasn’t even that she was allergic or anything.

  It was the beginning of senior year. She was zoning out a little. Not too much, but just enough to annoy her friends. And anyone who annoyed Sumiko better watch out. She was like a laser-targeted rifle aimed at the tiniest character flaw her friends might let slip.

  Elisa sat at their usual table in the Rockton High courtyard, holding a piece of waxed paper up to the sun. Heat shimmered across the wide stretch of concrete and up the decrepit walls of the old building, hazing the air above the long rows of dingy orange tables packed with students eating lunch. Elisa meant to pay attention to what Sumiko was saying, but the pattern of creases in the paper right before her eyes was more beautiful than a kaleidoscope, a golden sun-fired tracery of a million branches, and it felt like she could see the secrets of the future if she only examined it closely enough. It was the exact color of Ben Lancaster’s hair when it shone in the sun. She smiled and stretched the wrapping across her knuckles. A few crumbs fell onto her lap.

  The buzzing drone of conversation swished over her ears. The fresh whole-grain bread in her sandwich blended perfectly with that rich peanut butter scent. She inhaled deeply, and her stomach growled.

  “Hey. Hey!” Sumiko grabbed the waxed paper out of her hand and crumpled it on the table. They had been friends since second grade, when they rescued a cat from a group of boys who’d been chasing it, but sometimes Elisa could swear Sumiko thought she was her gym coach. It didn’t help that she was a brown belt in karate and believed every expression of affection required a punch for emphasis.

  Elisa blinked. “Did you say something, Sumiko?” She picked up the ball of waxed paper and smoothed it out.

  Sumiko snorted, and Chloe flipped her perfectly flat-ironed blonde hair over her shoulder. “Don’t bother! She’s off in her own world as usual,” Chloe said.

  A loud babbling from the courtyard overrode the background conversations. A tall, skinny kid staggered between the lunch tables, tossing his scraggly dark hair. Kids rolled their eyes and jeered, but he ignored them. The waxed paper in Elisa’s hand crinkled, and his gaze zeroed in on her food.

  “Peanut butter! My favorite!” He lurched sideways, lost his footing, and sat down hard on the pavement in front of the three girls. He sniggered and flopped his head back and forth.

  Chloe braced her hands against the table, poised for flight. “Who’s that creep?”

  “Pete Waddell.” Sumiko slid to the side of the bench. “He’s high on something.”

  The kid crawled closer and licked the ground near their table.

  “Yuck!” Chloe recoiled.

  Pete banged his head on the ground in an uneven tempo.

  The slam of his skull against the hard surface echoed in Elisa’s brain. She knew what it felt like when someone rammed your head into a wall. Even if they said it was for your own good. Her guts twisted and she jumped up. “Stop it! You’re going to hurt yourself.”

  “Just ignore him, Elisa,” Chloe stage-whispered.

  He kept pounding his face on the pavement. A trail of blood oozed down his cheek. A girl shrieked and people abandoned half-eaten pudding cups on their tables. Someone’s lunch meat landed —splat—on the asphalt.

  Shaking off
Chloe’s grip, Elisa squatted beside Pete and put a hand on his shoulder. His muscles jerked spasmodically, tensing and going limp in an erratic rhythm.

  “Shhh,” she said. “You need to stop or you’ll hurt yourself.”

  “Quit being mean!” the kid whined in a voice that sounded far younger than he appeared. “Wha’d I ever do to you?” He stuck a thumb in his mouth and started to cry. “Pete’s sad.”

  “Sad people shouldn’t hurt themselves,” Elisa told him.

  “Yes ma’am!” Pete bared all his teeth in a childish grin. Then he tried to stand up and fell over, giggling. He flailed his arms and almost knocked her over. She jumped out of the way.

  Sumiko tugged at her arm. “Elisa, watch out.”

  “He needs help.” Elisa pulled away. “He’s going to smash his head open.”

  “I’ll call security,” Sumiko said.

  Rockton High’s finest was already on the way. Pudgy Mr. Thompson, the part-time security guard, scurried across the courtyard. Like most Rockton High support staff, he wasn’t exactly a paragon of excellence. Due to the budget crisis, everyone had been given pink slips and only some of them had been re-hired. Thompson spent most of his time in his office on the district’s sluggish internet searching for another job.

  “All right, what’s going on here?” His face shone scarlet. One of his uniform buttons had popped open, exposing a ratty white undershirt pulled taut over his belly.

  Sumiko took charge as usual. “Pete needs a doctor. I think he’s OD’ing.”

  “I’ll call the police.” Thompson pulled out a beat-up phone and punched a couple of buttons.

  Pete wrapped his arms around his knees and rocked back and forth. Elisa squatted next to him again. He sucked loudly on his thumb, the slurping audible from a dozen feet away. A ring of kids had gathered, staring and pointing cell phones at him. The hubbub of conversation got louder. Adrian Salas, a tall boy Elisa knew from math class, pushed his glasses up his nose and shifted his load of books to the other arm. He glanced at her and looked away swiftly. The boy next to him stood on tiptoe to whisper something in his ear.

  Thompson mumbled into his phone. Elisa carefully peeled open the fingers of Pete’s free hand. His fingernails had cut into his skin, and he was bleeding.

  “Mr. Thompson, don’t you think he should go to the hospital?” Sumiko jabbed her fists onto her hips.

  “I’m calling 911.” Thompson backed away, unconsciously gripping his baton. Facing down Sumiko could make anyone nervous. He said to Elisa, “Now step back, young lady.”

  Before she could move, a kid with unevenly-cut ginger hair burst into the circle. The voices of the crowd faded again into the background chatter, and she blushed furiously. It was Ben Lancaster. He knelt on the ground beside Pete, brows lowered in a scowl. He didn’t even glance toward the girls.

  “You okay, Pete?” The only response was more giggles as Pete decided to roll around on the ground. Ben’s scowl deepened. “Let’s go, man. I know a safe place.”

  “Hey,” said Thompson, “you need to wait for the police.”

  Ben glared. “911 takes forever these days. The clinic’s only three blocks away.”

  He picked up the semi-conscious kid and tried to sling him over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. Ben’s legs bent, and he struggled to straighten under the kid’s weight.

  Adrian stepped forward, light glinting off his glasses, a humble, half-apologetic smile on his face. “Need some help?”

  The two of them made a chair with their arms and draped Pete’s arms around their shoulders. Pete slumped in their hold, emitting occasional baby sounds.

  “Now, wait a minute, you two, you’re violating school rules,” Thompson protested. He gripped Adrian’s forearm. The bland smile faded, and Adrian shot him a long, cool glance from behind his glasses. Thompson jerked back as if burned. He cleared his throat and lifted his baton, but by then Ben and Adrian had already trotted halfway across the courtyard with Pete suspended between them. Thompson moseyed half-heartedly after them, wiping his forehead. It was too hot for a chase.

  Sumiko yanked on Elisa’s arm and led her back to the table. “Ugh. You’ve got blood on you.”

  Elisa rubbed the rusty stains on her hands. “I guess.”

  Sumiko rolled her eyes. “Why do you always get involved?”

  “He was going to hurt himself!”

  “Don’t worry. I’ve got it.” She pulled a neatly-folded bundle of paper towels out of her lunch bag and wiped Elisa’s hands with quick, efficient strokes.

  The excited chatter died away, and kids went back to their interrupted conversations. Elisa wondered if Pete would be okay. Drug overdoses, students bringing knives or guns to school—it had become too common at Rockton High lately. People didn’t care anymore. They’d gotten used to it, although Ben was the opposite of unconcerned. He’d built up quite a reputation for fighting at the slightest excuse, sassing the teachers, ignoring all the rules. But he’d looked so fine marching to Pete’s rescue. It gave Elisa a little thrill.

  OK, maybe she was far too stuck on him.

  She had first met Ben in middle school. It was five years ago, the year after her father left. That was a bad year; her mother became even more bitter and grouchy, her prayers louder and more frequent. She only talked to Elisa about how she was going to the devil and about money—or more precisely, the lack of it. Her older brother had moved out, and Elisa had never felt so alone. One day in school some of the football players were harassing her, and Ben had—

  Elisa’s memory was interrupted by a thud as Sumiko’s binder smacked her on the head.

  “Ow!” she said, rubbing her ear.

  “You’re welcome.”

  Sumiko scrutinized Elisa more closely. “You’re not just red-faced because of being stupid around Pete. Don’t tell me you still have that crush on Ben Lancaster. That delinquent isn’t worth your time. He didn’t win any points with Thompson today.”

  She seemed even more annoyed than usual. A bad sign. It usually meant she was hatching some plot to “improve” Elisa’s life.

  “He’s not a delinquent,” Elisa said, still kneading her scalp.

  “Didn’t Ben get suspended for fighting a couple of weeks ago?” Chloe adjusted the opalescent blue frames of her glasses.

  “What happened?” Elisa asked.

  “Just the usual.” Sumiko rolled her eyes. “He and that loser Mario Fonseca got into it right in front of the principal’s office. Brilliant.”

  “It’s not fair that he got in trouble today. Ben was just trying to help. I wonder what’s wrong with Pete.”

  Sumiko shrugged. “Druggie. OD. What else?”

  “Don’t you think it’s weird, Sumiko?”

  “Drugs always make kids act weird. Let’s talk about something more important: your love life.”

  “Stop it.” Elisa took a bite of her sandwich. “I just think Ben is cute.”

  Chloe frowned. “Ewww, he’s not cute at all, and he’s constantly in trouble. Just last week—”

  “Shut up!” Sumiko said.

  “Hey, I’m on your side! Just trying to help Elisa get over her stupid crush.”

  “Ben’s not a bad person,” Sumiko said. “He’s just—I was thinking it’s time for Elisa to find another guy to like. Someone who’s not always getting into fights.” She stopped to scan the lunchtime crowd. The circle of kids, still gathered in tight knots, was gossiping about what had happened with Pete.

  “I got it! Why not Adrian Salas? Senior class president, straight-A student. He’d keep you out of trouble.” She poked Elisa’s side. “And he’s awfully cute. Built, too.”

  Elisa remembered Adrian striding across the courtyard to help Ben. He’d lifted Pete like he weighed nothing.

  “Mmm,” said Chloe. “Those glasses make him look like too much of a nerd. But he’s got nice hair,” she conceded. “Dresses well, too.” She smirked. “I bet it would feel nice to run your hands through that thick brown hair.”


  Elisa frowned and licked some jelly off her finger. “I think my fingers would make his hair too sticky.”

  “I know what it is,” said Chloe with a simper. “You miss that bad-boy spark you see in Ben.”

  “Besides, why would anyone be interested in me?”

  “What are you talking about?” asked Chloe in mock surprise. “You may be quiet, but you’ve got the assets every guy wants.” She cupped her own breasts.

  Elisa shook her head so her hair covered her face to hide her embarrassment. Though she had come to it late, her body had recently started to develop in ways that drew attention she wasn’t altogether sure she wanted.

  “Yeah,” said Sumiko. “From what I hear, there isn’t a single guy—or girl”—she eyed Chloe—“who doesn’t think you’re hot.”

  Chloe made an exaggerated “O” with her mouth. “Hot is right!” She winked, and Elisa concentrated on her sandwich as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. She adored her friends, but the constant sexual innuendoes could get a little old.

  “Anyway,” said Sumiko, “I just think you should broaden your horizons. You’ve had that crush forever.” She wiped up some crumbs from the table with a napkin. “Really, you could have anyone. I think you should give it a try. It’s just dating; it’s not a permanent thing. Hey, who knows? Maybe it would make Ben jealous,” she said with a grin.

  Elisa groaned. “Both of you, shut up! You’re not running my love life and that’s final!”

  2

  Ben

  HUMID, STALE AIR pressed down onto the streets around Rockton High. Sweat from the unconscious burden on Ben’s shoulder soaked into his shirt. He hobbled the last block to the clinic. He’d insisted Adrian return to school before the bell rang, and his classmate had been only too willing to avoid an unexcused absence. Ben’s record was already too spotty for more truancy to matter.

  Teachers didn’t like it when you missed class or didn’t get your homework done. They called it a “bad attitude,” even if the reason was that you’d been up until 3 AM at the clinic, keeping a homeless man who’d been nearly beaten to death hydrated through the night. No, he’d just been wasting time on “unproductive” members of society again.