Darker Days (The Darker Agency #1)(53)

Girls like that would never be walking anywhere—unless there was an audience.

Perfect hair and sky-high skirts, these girls were runway wannabes in stripper chic—and I had no doubt that they were following me.

“Hey,” one of them shouted. “Wait up.”

I didn’t stop. Hell, I didn’t even slow down. I leaned close and grabbed Kendra by the arm. “Don’t turn around. We have company.”

“Company?” she squeaked, letting me tug her along.

“Hey,” the same voice snapped. “I’m talking to you.” She rushed forward and grabbed my arm, spinning me around. Kendra came with me by default.

I flashed her my best innocent smile. The one I used on Mom when she caught me nosing through the filing cabinet at the agency. “Me? Sorry. Totally didn’t hear ya. What’s up?”

There were three of them. All blond and of the Bimbo Bitch school of fashion. Any minute now, I expected to see one of those annoying toy doggies pop its head from each designer purse. Where was Smokey—that’s what I’d started calling my demonic doggie stalker—when you actually needed him?

“I really like your jacket,” the tallest one said. She ran perfectly manicured fingers through her long hair. “Can I try it on?”

I balked, sure I hadn’t heard her correctly. A sidelong glance at Kendra revealed she was just as stumped as I was. “You want to try on my leather jacket?”

She offered me a wolf in sheepskin smile. 100 percent predatory. “Please.”

Kendra folded her arms. “You don’t seem like the leather type.” With a dismissive shrug, she started walking again.

I turned and started after her.

Behind us, three sets of heels clinked the ground in unison.

“That was rude,” one of the others said, jumping out in front of me. She had on a tight white t-shirt that said bitch in pink and white rhinestones, and when she grabbed my arm, her fingernails dug into the skin. “My friend likes your jacket. You should give it to her.”

“Your friend can buy one of her very own. I hear the biker Barbie look is hot right now.” I wrenched free and took a step back.

“There’s no reason to be a bitch about it,” the original one said. “She’s just being a good friend.” Before I had time to blink, her hand whipped out and caught me hard across the cheek.

“Bitch!” Kendra snapped, slapping the girl right back.

I’d been drooled on by zombies, screamed at by banshees—even peed on by weres—but bitch-slapped by a girl wearing hooker heels and too much makeup? That was a first.

One of them made a swipe for me, but I dodged her and started to run. Luckily, Kendra took the hint and followed. So did the girls. I had to give them credit. To run—much less keep up—while wearing those shoes was impressive.

I got about eight feet before something rammed me from behind. My knees buckled and I collapsed under the weight of one of the girls. “Give—me—that—”

I jammed my elbow up, aim dead on. The girl let out a howl that would have made a banshee proud. She rolled to the side clutching her face and sobbing. Beside me, Kendra was fending off one of the others.

“Cow!” The shortest screamed as she charged. She grabbed me from behind while the third, having grounded Kendra, jerked on the cuff of my right sleeve.

Even if it hadn’t been one of my dad’s old jackets—even if it’d been a tacky pink blue-light special, I wouldn’t have given it to them. Mom had given me the jacket two years ago. It was worn and way too big, but it’d belonged to my dad. It was some small part of him that I got to keep with me on a daily basis. And sure, he was around right now, but when this was all over, all I’d have was a stupid jacket.

The Three Stooges of Bloomingdales were not getting their grubby little French manicures on it.

I jerked my head back and heard a sickening crunch. There was a slight buzz, but no real pain. Hybrid demon spawn kids didn’t get special super powers—but we were a tad more resilient than normal kids. I’d been known to take a little more of a lickin’ and keep on tickin’.

The blonde at my back screamed and let go. The one tugging on the jacket managed to free my right arm and was working on the left. She had the entire thing in her hands except the left sleeve—which was still on my arm. When she realized I wasn’t going to let go, she hit me again. Put her weight into it, too. Her fist grazed my chin as something sharp sliced into my lower lip. A ring.

Hell in a hailstorm. She really wanted my jacket. And that’s when I remembered what Meredith had said.

That is a really nice jacket, by the way…

Sonofabitch!

“Kendra,” I yelled. She was just picking herself off the floor. “Envy! They’re infected by envy.” And sure enough, on the periphery of my vision, I saw one of the women from the hall at school walking toward us wearing a huge grin. Envy.

The envy-infected girl came at me again, screaming incoherently. I doubted she knew where she was at that point, much less why she was doing what she was doing. Eyes glazed and fingers curled, she charged me like a rabid animal. I didn’t have to put any umpf behind the punch. She flew at me like a runaway train and wrecked herself on my fist. That was the good news. The bad? She stumbled back, knocking into Envy who was now standing by the curb. That whole thing about how bad things happen in slow motion? A load of crap. In fact, time seemed to speed up and take on a dizzying quality.