Damsel[ed]: No Rescue Required

Chapter 26: Another Reason to Hate Disney

Gats

Surprisingly, breaking into a crime organization's headquarters is kinda easy. Jacob flashed a smile at the right people and bam! Instant access, no question asked. I guess he's a powerful guy. 

To sum up the last few hours, I snatched a cool looking mask and then wedged into the back of a mini-van between a glaring Cat and a grumbling Electra while Jacob whistled Michael Jackson in the front. As Cat argued on that I should be blindfolded, I dropped off into a nap. By some sort of secret shortcut to Snare's HQ, we arrived with a few minutes to situate ourselves in Snare's foyer. Wha-la. 

"Are you insane?" Angel shrieks from across the room. I bite the inside of my cheek and repeat in my head for him to calm down. Maybe he's a telepath or something, I don't know. I study my surroundings to calm my crazy fast heart.

For a crappy, outer-city building, Snare's HQ is beautiful on the inside. I hold my breath, out of place amidst the silk screens, arched ceilings, and paintings so bright my first instinct is to steal them. If this is only the foyer, I can't imagine the fortress' insides.

 I creep against the walls, flanked on either side by a member of  the "rescue party." Cat snatches my arm, yanking me behind a screen.

"Don't try anything," she says, and I roll my eyes, adjusting my jaw-guard. The thing smells of age and sweat, but I prefer it over the thousands of odors this place nests. Plus, the skeleton design is wicked.  

Jake and the other adults join us, their shadows casting thin lines on the mahogany floor. 

"There's no way I'll let you call me that! It's Angelos. For Starlight's sake, if that's too much of a mouthful, at least use Angel!" he says. I frown; it's so weird to hear him stick up for the nickname.

"What are we gonna do?" I ask.

Electra shrugs beside me, her presence turning my blood to ice. Dingo slips his fingers over his shades, the lenses blocking out his eyes.

Mack grunts. "There's always bait and trap."

Cat leans on her sword, unhooking her lasso from her belt. Her casualness would be comforting if there wasn't so much at stake. I strain, listening to my friend's conversation.

"You can take it up with Dad," Poison says, voice dripping with amusement, "Lucifer."

I choke. Lucifer? I'd take 'Angel' over that any day!

"Stop calling me that! And if you're trying to pull my heart-strings by pretending we're related, you're not doing it well."

"Whatever, Luce." Poison's voice drags closer, and I press myself against the screen, glaring at the chocolate ceiling.

"And how much more walking are we gonna have to do? I feel like I'm in the Taj Mahal! And since we're in this place, or at least I think we are, isn't the blindfold a little unnecessary?"

"I need you nice and disoriented. Welcome home."

Angel doesn't respond, and I unsheath my claws. He's a softy, that oversized-princess-of-a-dude. I'm sure he's dying on the inside.

I stare at my hands. June and Storm took me in, and to repay them, I'll protect their son. Angel would sacrifice himself to save me, and I'm willing to do the same. "Look," I say, "if you guys aren't gonna do anything, I will."

Cat huffs. "Good luck, Kitten."

"It's Gatsby!" I slide into the hall. My borrowed combat boots scream against the expensive flooring, and Poison snaps his head up. His shadow falls over me like an angry cloud, and Angel trembles in the villain's grasp.