“He’s outside? In this weather?”
He nodded toward my window and I rushed to open it, hurtling Glitch in the process as he stirred to consciousness. Jared lay on the ground at the bottom of the metal fire escape, unconscious.
“Oh, my gosh,” I said, climbing out. A bitterly cold rain slashed across my face as I hurried down and knelt beside him, but nothing compared to the alarm I felt at seeing Jared unconscious.
“Lor, what are you doing?” Brooke called to me, but she quickly shushed and ducked back in for something other than pajamas to wear.
Cameron jumped down and landed beside me as I examined Jared. Blood streaked down one side of his head and from his swollen mouth.
“Hurry up, Blue-Spider,” Cameron said, trying to be quiet but shout loud enough to be heard over the pelting rain. I realized Glitch was right behind him, still in his jeans and sweatshirt.
In one smooth movement, Cameron scooped Jared up and draped him over his shoulder. Jared couldn’t have been light.
“Get the door,” Cameron said, and I realized he was taking Jared to his apartment.
Glitch ran ahead of Cameron and jumped to get the hidden key from over the door. He unlocked it and held it wide enough for Cameron to get through with his charge.
“We need medical supplies,” Cameron said, reaching out to turn on a light.
Just then, Jared started to stir. “What are you doing?” he asked, his words slurred and groggy. Then, in a flash of strength that my mind couldn’t quite register, he twisted up and off Cameron. One minute Cameron was carrying him to his kitchen; the next Cameron was underneath him in a maneuver that left me breathless.
He lodged a knee under Cameron’s chin, his face wary and full of rage.
“Jared!” I rushed forward, and before I had time to blink, a large hand shot out and encircled my throat. I felt the earth move. Saw the room blur. And in the next instant, I was on the floor right next to Cameron. Fighting for air. Fighting to stay conscious.
Cameron wrapped his legs around Jared’s chest and threw him off balance long enough to get out from under him. “It’s just us,” he said, his voice harsh.
I gasped for air as Jared scurried back onto all fours, crouched, and eyed us like we were his next meal.
Cameron dragged me behind him, then held up his free hand in surrender. “It’s just us.”
Jared fought for balance, then pressed a palm to his head wound. Blood trickled between his fingers as he doubled over and growled in pain.
I wanted to go to him, but Cameron kept his iron grip on my arm.
Brooke crept in behind me and wrapped an arm in mine, keeping a wary eye on our opponent.
After a moment, Jared blinked back to us. He took his time, measuring us with his feral stare. “What happened?” he asked at last just as his gaze landed on me.
“We don’t know,” I said. “You disappeared. You’ve been gone for three days.”
The barest hint of surprise flashed across his face before he caught himself.
“Are you with us?” Cameron asked, waving a hand in front of his face. When Jared scowled, Cameron flipped him off and asked, “How many fingers am I holding up?”
* * *
Half an hour later, Jared sat at what passed for a kitchen table, a blue blanket from our linen closet draped over him as Cameron sewed up a huge gash in his arm. An array of medical supplies sat splayed across his countertop along with bloodied gauze and towels. Towels I would have to wash before Grandma saw them.
Jared’s hair, soaking wet, hung in clumps over his bruised brow. The wound on his head that had been bleeding profusely was now stitched and on the mend. It ran along his hairline, and I could hardly see it now.
Brooklyn and Glitch had gone to change out of their soaking-wet clothes, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave. What if Jared disappeared again while I was gone? So instead, I stood, assisting Cameron with shivering hands.
Jared raised his lashes and locked his gaze with mine, unblinking even when a drop of rain-soaked blood dripped from the tips onto his cheek. The rich browns of his eyes seemed darker than usual as he stared, more intense.
He reached out and touched my neck, his hands warm and soothing. “Sorry about that,” he said.
“I’m okay. I was just worried about you.”
Before he could say anything, Brooklyn tapped my shoulder. “I brought you some clothes,” she said, wincing as Cameron tugged on a stitch to tighten it.
Jared also had a huge gash on his arm that required sutures. My knees almost gave beneath my weight every time Cameron stabbed. Tugged. Tied. Clearly nursing was not in my future.
“They were waiting for me,” he said without releasing my gaze. “A group of them.”
“Who?” Cameron asked. At his nod, I took the scissors and cut the suture. “A group of what?”
Brooke took the other seat at the tiny table as Glitch scooted onto the counter.
“Unless it was a group of charging water buffalo, I’m stumped,” Glitch said. “Because anyone, even a group, bringing you down is a little hard to believe.”
Jared finally looked back at Cameron, his expression grave. “They were descendants.”
Cameron stilled. I wondered why. What were descendants? And whom were they descended from?
“I didn’t think there were any left,” he said, voice thick with apprehension.
“There are quite a few, actually, but the real question is, why would they attack me?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Cameron said as he plunged the needle again.
The world spun. Brooke took the scissors and sat me in the chair, taking over. I couldn’t help but notice Glitch fold his arms at his chest and glare when she started helping Cameron, but when Jared took my hand into his, a movement that both shocked and pleased me, I lost interest in his annoyance. After weeks of avoidance on Jared’s part, the warmth was nice.
“I wish I could remember,” Jared said. “I can’t. Everything after that initial attack is a blank. I was fighting—and winning, I might add—then I was here.”
“Glitch-head’s right,” Cameron said, tying off another stitch. “Even a hundred descendants would have trouble bringing you down. How did they take you?”
Jared turned his attention toward him so slowly, so methodically, I was certain he did it to goad Cameron. “Why?” he asked at last, planting a humorous and, if I didn’t know any better, taunting gaze on him. “Looking for pointers?”
“It’s just a little hard to believe.”
“So is reality TV, but there you have it.”
The tension between them simmered, thickened, blanketed the room in silence.
“What are descendants?” I asked, breaking it. They had been getting along famously—or, well, semi-famously. Now was not the time for tempers to flare. When they were at odds, architectural structures paid the price. “And why on earth would they attack you? Surely they don’t know what you are.”
After a long moment, Jared tore his gaze away from Cameron. “They know exactly what I am. And they are descended from the original nephilim that were created centuries past.”
“They’re nephilim?” Brooklyn asked, her voice soft with astonishment. “Like Cameron?” She snipped the last suture and cleaned off Jared’s wound with peroxide.
“They’re diluted versions of Cameron,” Jared explained, “descended from the original nephilim, so there’s a lot of pure human mixed in. It’s like taking a single drop of food coloring and adding a gallon of milk. The food coloring will alter the color slightly, but for the most part it’s still milk. There simply can’t be that much seraph DNA left in the breed.”
“There’s not,” Cameron said. “I would be able to tell if there were. I would be able to feel them.”
Brooke smoothed antibiotic ointment onto the stitches and covered them with a bandage.
“In an effort to contain the purity of the race,” Jared continued, examining her handiwork, “there has b
een a lot of inbreeding as well. From what I understand, they’re not right in the head.”
“Then you are related,” Glitch said to Cameron.
“Their attacking Jared proves they have a screw loose,” Brooke said, ignoring Glitch. “What did they hope to gain?”
“To leave Lorelei vulnerable,” Cameron said.
“Me?” I asked, alarmed. “What do I have to do with the descendants?”
“I have no idea what they would want with you, unfortunately,” Jared said.
Cameron raked a hard gaze over him. “They tracked you here. When you showed up a few weeks ago, they tracked you.”
“Or they were invited.” Jared’s accusation was as smooth as caramel. He settled a withering stare on him. “You’re the hybrid. You’re like them.”
“I’ve never even seen one of those things.” Cameron bit down in an effort to control his temper. “I didn’t even know for sure they existed until you showed up.”
“And yet here they are.”
“And here you are,” Cameron volleyed, baiting the only one in the room who could kill us all with a thought. He was looking at Jared like he’d never seen him before, like he was different somehow.
After a moment, Jared leaned back in his chair and scrubbed his face with his fingertips. “They must have an agenda. They attacked me for a reason.” He looked at me, his brows drawn together. “They have to be after you. It’s the only explanation.”
I really hated to hear that.
“I still think we should get you to the hospital,” I said, switching the focus off me. “You could have a concussion.”
“Hey,” Cameron said, clearly offended. “I got this.”
The corner of Jared’s mouth lifted into a lazy grin. He let his gaze drop to my robe. I pulled it tighter, smoothed my hair down, and tried not to concentrate too hard on the dark sparkle in Jared’s eyes, the powerful set of his shoulders. Even injured, he exuded authority, his supremacy so absolute, so pure. “I know this is going to sound dumb, but are you sure you’re okay?” I was still floored with the attention he was giving me. It was like the old Jared was back. Scraped up. Bruised. Covered in wounds. Yep, it was definitely the old Jared.
His grin widened, and I realized his gaze was glassy, as though he had a fever. “I’m fine. I’ll be ready for school in a couple of hours.”
“School?” I asked, stunned. “I think you can miss a day or two, considering the extent of your injuries.”
“She’s right. You should stay home today,” Cameron said.
I brightened. “See.”
“You’re no good to us injured,” Cameron continued.
“That’s not what I meant,” I said.
Jared looked at Cameron. “We need to figure out what’s going on.”
Cameron nodded. “There’s a new kid at school you need to meet.”
Brooke gasped. “You think he’s one of them? A descendant?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised,” he said, his expression grave.
EXPRESSIONLESS
The next morning, we got ready for school in relative silence. Except for the howling from Glitch when he got the last shower. At least cold water was invigorating.
“Would you kids like some breakfast?” Grandma asked when we made our way downstairs, shuffling off the landing one by one. She sat by Granddad at the table, drinking coffee and reading the sports section. I didn’t know why. She never watched sports.
I avoided eye contact. “We’ll just have cereal.”
“Think healthy,” Granddad said, referring to my culinary choice. I was actually thinking more along the lines of chocolaty, but okay. I took down a box of something with the word “wheat” in it. Brooke crinkled her nose and went for a toaster pastry as Glitch raided the refrigerator.
Since Plan A had gone awry, our sleuthing adventures would have to wait until tonight. At least Jared was back. That single thought occupied 98 percent of my brain function. The other 2 percent was on Plan A. It didn’t hurt to do a little investigating. To grill the authority figures for intel. I wondered what Grandma and Granddad knew about my other grandfather, the one on my dad’s side. They didn’t tell me the truth about my parents’ disappearance for ten years, and even then, I had to practically force it out of them. I doubted they would have told me if not for Jared’s appearance and everything that happened six months ago.
I cleared my throat. “So, I was looking at some pictures and I realized I don’t have a single one of my other set of grandparents.”
Grandma choked on her coffee, coughing a full minute before recovering, and I didn’t know if her seizure was due to my question or the fact that I was talking to them.
Granddad patted her back, his eyes rounding in surprise, when he said, “I’m not sure we have any. Your dad didn’t bring much in the way of personal effects when he and your mom moved back here.”
I took a bite of cereal, going for nonchalance, then said, “I wonder if my chin is like his.”
And with that, Grandma and Granddad leveled the most shocked expression I’d ever seen on me. So I continued.
“I mean, you know, I don’t really have either of your chins, so I thought maybe my chin came from the other side of my family.”
Granddad recovered first. “Yes, well, you definitely have the cleft from your dad’s chin. That’s a signature McAlister trait if I ever saw one. Right, Vera?”
When Grandma didn’t answer, he elbowed her. “Right,” she said, jumping to attention. “Signature. Spitting image. You know, chin-wise.”
“Do you think there are pictures of them somewhere?”
“Well, there are some records stored in the basement,” she said. “There might be something in there.”
“Cool. I might check it out later. Just out of curiosity.” I practically had their permission to snoop now and felt better for it.
Brooke thinned her mouth, admonishing me with her furrowed eyebrows. I stuck out my tongue, then proceeded to ignore her.
At least until Cameron came in. “The truck’s warm,” he said.
“If you guys don’t get cold,” Brooke said to him, picking up her backpack, “why do you wear jackets?”
“It’s frowned upon in society to walk around without a jacket. I used to catch all kinds of heck in grade school. Now I just get odd looks. It’s easier to conform.”
“Oh.” She strolled out the door with the rest of us behind her.
“Have a good day, pix,” Grandma said, her voice full of hope.
“You too,” I whispered without looking back.
Jared met us at Cameron’s truck, wearing his bomber jacket and jeans. His wide shoulders filled the jacket so nicely, and the brown color went well with his height.
“Hey, you,” he said, and I melted a little inside. He was already almost completely healed, at least the parts of him I could see.
“Hey.”
He reached out and brushed a thumb over my mouth.
An electrical current shot through me with the contact.
“You look nice.”
His hand was warm against the crisp day. “Thank you.”
He looked past me. Cameron had stopped and was assessing him with his signature glower.
With a boyish smile, Jared raised his hands in surrender. Then he opened the door for me, but from the corner of my eye, I noticed him look back at the house as though checking to see if my grandparents were watching. Then he turned and spit into the mud. A very guy thing to do, but just odd.
“At least the sun’s out,” Brooke said when she climbed in through Cameron’s side.
Glitch strode to his car without so much as a by your leave. He was getting so moody.
I scooted to the middle to make room for Jared. He slid in and closed the passenger-side door. The warmth of his body seeped into my clothes.
“So, these descendants don’t sound very smart,” I said, trying not to let my worry filter into the tone of my voice. “I mean, who would be dumb enough to
jump you? Besides Cameron, that is.”
Cameron tossed me a scowl as he pulled onto Main. He was a master of scowls. Probably invented several of the more defiant scowls so popular with kids today.
In response, Brooklyn flashed her version. “She’s just being honest. If you’ll remember, you guys made a mess of downtown Riley’s Switch a while back. Not just anyone could have done that.”
Brooke was right. When Jared showed up a couple of months back to take me when I’d been dying, Cameron knew what he was. And since Cameron had literally been created to protect me, he didn’t take kindly to Jared showing up to take my life. Not without an appointment at least. The two of them fought like two gods hell-bent on destroying our small town.
They may have laid aside their differences to figure out this war thing, but the animosity between them hadn’t subsided completely.
With a shrug, Cameron conceded to Brooke’s logic.
But Jared was still eyeing him, a hint of provocation in his expression. “I guess there were just more of them than I’d expected. I let my guard down.”
Cameron spoke then. “What kind of archangel can’t handle a few watered-down descendants?”
Jared latched on to that like a bully trying to pick a fight. “The kind that can stop your heart before you have time to blink.”
Brooke looked over at Jared as we pulled into the parking lot. School was only three blocks away from the store, but riding in Cameron’s warm truck was way better than not riding in Cameron’s warm truck.
“Could you guys not start this crap again? It’s been weeks. Why the sudden animosity?” When Jared turned to look out the window, she said to me, “See, everybody’s acting strange.”
And she was right. When we got out, everything got even stranger. Well, not immediately. For the most part, it was a typical Tuesday. Kids standing in their respective groups. Teachers hustling to their classrooms, massive coffee mugs in hand. Principal Davis glaring. Just a regular day at Riley High.
Until we stepped inside. While kids were there as usual—raiding their lockers, walking to class—unlike usual, the halls were deathly quiet. Eyes were cast downward and movements were hurried, wary.
“Dang,” I said, suddenly uncomfortable. “Is there a new no-talking rule in the halls?”
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