Where Angels Go to Die (Book One of The Silver Society) OLD EDITION!

Chapter Twenty-One

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Cierra shook her head. "There must be a way to prevent this," she said.

"I hope you're right," Spencer said, "but somehow, I think this is set in stone."

"Prophecies can be changed."

"You know how difficult that is."

"Difficult, yes, but not impossible, Spencer. We can't just sit back and let this happen. We're a family. If one of us were to die... I can't even imagine what would happen to the rest of us."

"Let's not focus on this right now. We need to find the information on the key and how to destroy it."

Cierra sighed. "Right. One emergency at a time. Let's get back to work." She struggled to ignore the fear that threatened to overwhelm her.

~*~

Keither Lincoln was still shaking when he reached his family's summer home. The cult had decided to send some of its members out to Cape Cod, Massachusetts for the week to try and find the key to the tomb everyone was searching for. Although Keither was one of the least impressive of the cult members, he had been sent because, at twenty-one years old, he was the oldest son of one of the leaders. Although not the bravest, Keither was handsome, with blonde hair that was shaped in a mushroom cut and eyes a shade of blue that was generally reserved for Reapers. Keither wasn't sure where his soul came from, but if he was a Reaper, he certainly didn't demand the respect he should have.

Renee Karson, who was his twenty-year-old cousin, was moving up in the cult quickly. She was smart, but seriously overconfident, a combination often found in the devil worshippers who gained power. She was rather pretty, with blonde hair that she let hang around her shoulders and eyes so dark that they were almost black. She wore red lipstick and stiletto heals at all times, and today, she wore her leather jacket over a red blouse that showed off her cleavage nicely. She also wore tight black jeans. Renee was a corrupt slayer, and she enjoyed dressing the part. As an inside joke, the corrupt slayers had a "uniform." They didn't have to wear it, but a lot of them did. It generally consisted of leather jackets, and red and black clothing. Red and black were the official colors of the corrupt slayers. The style had become popular most likely not for the sense of unity and evil, but for the fact that the combination of red and black often provided a very attractive look.

"Where's the brat?" Renee asked her younger sister, Moira, who lay sleeping on the couch.

"He was right there..." Moira said, trying to wake herself up.

Renee slapped Moira across the face. Moira put her hand to her cheek and tried to process what had just happened. Renee began yelling at her. "You fell asleep? He's a smart kid, Moira! You knew he could get away! We'd better find him." She dragged a reluctant Keither back out of the house.

Moira tried not to cry. Her perfect sister was angry with her again, and if that got back to the cult, she'd be in trouble. Renee was moving up quickly and had already earned a lot of respect from the cult members, and if she told them that Moira had managed to misplace the key to their future, she'd be sacrificed for sure.

Moira twisted a couple of strands of her dark brown hair around her finger, taking a moment to examine her badly bitten nails. For most of her life, Moira had felt she'd never be good enough to compete with Renee, and had been content to be her lackey. Renee excelled in school without needing to study, while Moira had to study nearly constantly just to get B's. Renee had the blonde hair, the thin, curvy figure, and the breasts and legs that drove men wild, while Moira was short and slightly overweight, with mousy, boring brown hair and almost no breasts. Renee had men worshipping her, while most men only noticed Moira if they wanted to ask the time of day or something insignificant like that. Renee was popular and witty. Moira was shy and nearly invisible. Renee was athletic and a trained slayer. Moira was clumsy and couldn't throw a punch to save her life. And now, Renee had gained power in the cult they had grown up in, while Moira had merely remained one of their favorite punching bags.