He spent so much time at my house that I was tempted to invite him to stay over whenever he disappeared for the nights—and every night, I thought better than to cross that line that I knew might lead somewhere beyond what we had.
Leon was my friend, my protector, assigned to me. Even if his deep gazes sometimes suggested he saw more in me than an object to protect. I knew I was more. Just not in the way that an invitation to stay the night would suggest. I was his friend. Nothing more.
“What are you thinking?” Leon’s velvet voice called me from the haze in my mind.
I glanced up at him, playing with the water bottle in my hand and thoroughly ignoring the rest of my lunch.
“Don’t your parents wonder where you are all the time?” I asked instead of speaking what was bothering me deep down—that ever since I had spent some hours with Leon in my ethereal form, something had changed for me. I felt him differently, sensed him. It was as if someone had pulled off a layer of disguise from the magical creature he was. From the strong, dedicated man he had become. I no longer saw a boy with dimples and a lost gaze.
I saw strong arms, a sharp-cut face, a sensuous mouth that spoke my name more often than any other person in the world. Even my mother. She was at work most of the time, no longer held back by the guilty conscience of putting Gran in the nursing home and seldom visiting.
Ever since Gran’s death, I hardly ever saw her. Only in the mornings when we both rushed from the house. She to work and I to the minefield of Shadowbringer gazes at school.
“They know where I am,” Leon said with a smile, “most of the time.”
He wiped his hair out of his forehead and grinned. Somewhere in the background, Avery’s giggle tore through the dulled buzz of tired conversations. It was fairly safe to say that wherever her voice shrilled, the Shadowbringer couldn’t be far.
I sighed through my nose and opened the bottle. “Really? They don’t find it curious you leave early in the morning and return late at night … and that you basically don’t even sleep at home.” I placed the cap before me, putting a lot of effort into aligning it with the tray and the salt shaker. “I mean … someone has got to notice your bed is practically unused.”
Leon leaned a bit closer as if he was going to share a secret, his cheeks turning slightly pink as he opened his mouth to speak … and stopped, picking up a slice of pizza from my plate instead.
“What is it?” I prompted when he shrugged and pointed at his full mouth as an excuse not to speak. “It can’t be that bad.”
“Not bad,” Leon responded after audibly swallowing the half-chewed food. “But…”
He gave me a look that made my stomach clench.
“But?”
“I don’t know if you’d approve—” He looked positively helpless as he waited for me to let him off the hook.
“Why don’t you try me?” I hadn’t noticed that I had been leaning forward, too, until Leon shoved his tray aside and rested his forearms on the table, bringing his face another inch closer.
“I told them we are an item.” He held my gaze despite the awkwardness that was obviously fluttering between us, intent on seeing through my reaction.
To my surprise, I had none.
I wasn’t outraged by his assumption that I would be fine with his explanation. I wasn’t disappointed. Or pleased. I just was—
“Now would be the time to tell me I’m an idiot,” he said when I didn’t respond for a minute.
I blinked, watching the color slowly drain from his face as he realized I didn’t understand what he had been saying … had been trying to say.
“Oh,” was the first thing I got out.
Leon pushed back an inch, a grin playing on his lips as he noted the realization in my eyes.
“Oh,” I repeated and took in his face, the handsome planes and angles that were the most familiar features on the planet.
“You didn’t just tell them we are an item,” I spoke what I thought he had been trying to say. “You actually meant it.”
Now it was Leon’s turn to fall silent and stare at me.
For a long moment, we eyed each other, me studying him as if I had never seen him before; the strands of white-blond that contrasted so perfectly with his dark eyes, his tan skin, the white shirt he wore, and the beige and brown plaid scarf that was wrapped around his neck.
“No,” he said, a hint of defiance in his tone as he leaned closer again—so close that I could see every fleck of light-brown in his coffee eyes. “But what if I did?” He tilted his head just an inch, narrowing his eyes as he read my face.
He waited for me to say something, so I took a deep breath, not entirely sure what I was going to tell him, when a voice woven of night and stars said from the side, “Tick tock,” followed by a chuckle.
Both Leon and I shrank away from each other, Leon getting to his feet as if ready to fight.
But the Shadowbringer was already by the door, trailing after Avery and her minions. His eyes were on me, ignoring Leon’s branding look.
When he was out of sight, I realized that the cafeteria was almost empty. We had been so deep in conversation, in thoughts, in fears and hopes, that we had both missed the bell.
Leon’s posture relaxed a bit as he watched the Shadowbringer disappear, but as he turned to face me, his features were still tight. “You don’t need to answer, Laney,” he said. “It is just the best way to explain to my family why I basically live at your place … even if I don’t … and technically speaking, everyone thinks it anyway.” He gestured at the empty room. “So I let them believe it. Might be the easiest way to keep that Shadowbringer away, too,” he added, offering his arm, waiting for me to close the untouched water bottle, get to my feet, and slip to his side.
We strode down the hallway to English together, his arm suddenly heavy on my shoulders. His words hadn’t shocked me, but they seemed to have made something more apparent: Leon didn’t see us as more than just friends.
And somehow, that bothered me.
After school, Leon didn’t take me home, but he drove us to the nearby forest. His words, his pink cheeks of embarrassment still clung to my mind. But the Shadowbringer’s voice also stuck there like a dart that had pinned itself into my mind.
I shook myself at the biting wind that greeted us at the edge of the forest where we got out of the car.
“Where are we going again?” I reached up to pull the collar of my jacket more tightly around my neck.
“Surprise,” Leon said with a smile and walked around the car, his backpack slung over one shoulder, to join me by the trees.
“I don’t like surprises.” It wasn’t entirely true. I’d used to like surprises, but ever since my life had become filled with paranormal creatures, I tended to feel saturated with surprises—and that surprises were rarely good ones anymore.
“We’re going to my grandfather’s cabin,” he said with a grin. “He left it to me when he died.” He led the way into the shadows between the fir trees. “And it is where all his notes are stored.” He glanced at me over his shoulder, beckoning for me to follow. “Maybe we’ll find something about that Shadowbringer there.”
I followed him down the leaf-strewn path that was squeezed between a mixture of evergreens and trees that were blooming with all of the colors of the east coast fall.
“I spent a major part of my childhood here,” he explained as he ducked under branches, setting one surprisingly silent foot after the other. “My grandfather made sure I learned about Lightbringers at the perfect time—before he found his timely end.”
The sour tone in his voice gave away that that memory was still bothering him, that the loss of his grandfather was something he might never get over. I didn’t have to see his face to know.
“You’re lucky someone took the time to fill you in about all that”—I searched for words—“supernatural stuff.”
A low chuckle was Leon’s response.
I battled my way across roots through the growing twilight. “Had I known w
hat was expecting me, I would have besieged Gran to tell me,” I murmured, not sure if he would laugh again. If his laugh had even been humorous.
“And what do you think she would have told you?” he asked and turned away from the path, into the thicket, vanishing between evergreens.
My heart sped in my chest at his disappearance.
“Leon?” I muttered into the suddenly chilly forest.
His head appeared between branches as did his hand. “What are you waiting for?”
He waited for me to lay my hand in his and then tugged me into the trees where I almost bumped into his shoulder.
Almost. But I stabilized myself in time to stop and keep upright beside him, my attention solely on the small stone cabin that was nestled against a rock-wall as if seeking shelter from the wind that was cutting through the tiny clearing.
“This is—“
“Unexpected,” he finished for me.
I nodded.
A couple of steps away, the building, belonging more in a fairytale than the real world, stood with a carved, wooden door and carved window blinds, a tiny chimney atop age-worn rooftrees.
“Totally.” I marveled at the building and didn’t wait for Leon to lead the way before I took a closer look. “This has to be ancient.” I took a closer look at the iron door handle and lock. They were rusty as if they hadn’t been used in years.
“Grandpa Leon inherited it from his grandmother and she from hers,” he said with a shrug and pulled a set of equally ancient-looking keys from his pockets. “Most Lightbringer families have some retreat where their history and knowledge are hidden.” He stepped up to the door, and the lock squealed as he turned the key. With one hand, he pushed the door open, gesturing for me to enter.
A retreat. That was exactly what I needed. Not the bright corridors of school or the sad face of my mother. Even Jo … I couldn’t pull her any deeper into this. The simple fact that the Shadowbringer had gotten involved when taking her to the nurse was too much. He was after me, and I couldn’t have her in danger’s path. So I had resorted to long phone calls with her instead of hanging out at school.
She had missed a couple of days after the incident, and I dearly hoped Lucas Ferham quickly forgot how much I cared about my friend. Not that he had spoken a word to either her or me until earlier today when he had reminded Leon and me so eloquently that time was running out—my time.
When I didn’t move, Leon ducked through the low door and pulled something else from his pocket on the way in.
I followed just in time to see a flame flicker to life in his hand. He replicated the fire on candles, which were sitting on every other surface in the cozy, dusty place.
“No one has been here in a while,” he apologized as he wiped a layer of dust off the table before a narrow fireplace. “I didn’t think I’d ever need to return.” From the look on his face, I could tell that the memories he had made here weren’t exclusively good ones.
I closed the door behind us as quietly as I could manage, wondering if anyone besides the Milliari family had ever set foot in this place. It surely did look untouched by anything but time.
The window blinds blocked out the gray daylight, leaving us with the warm orange hues of the fire. However, the flames were too small to heat the room, and after wandering through the forest in the cold October weather, I was shivering.
Leon noticed—of course, he did—and dropped his backpack on a chair before he pulled his scarf from his neck, folding it around my shoulders with a smile. “Here.” He added his arms atop the soft material and pulled me against his chest. “The Shadowbringer would be disappointed if you froze to death before he gets a chance to grab your soul.” There was little humor in his voice despite the sweet smile on his lips.
Speaking of the Shadowbringer… “He did have a chance, and he didn’t take my soul,” I pointed out, wondering why my words sounded as if I was defending him. “Why do you think that is?”
Leon detached himself from me, holding me at arm’s length, and studied me with weary eyes. “I wish I knew,” he admitted with defeat in his voice. “I thought he’d strike the second he got the chance, but instead”—he shook his head in frustration—“instead, he let you believe he was actually helping you.” He let go of me with a sigh, leaving me to wrap my own arms around my chest to replace the warmth he’d taken with him. “There is something off about it.”
“That’s why we’re here,” I reminded him, “right? To figure out what the hell-angel wants.”
Leon lifted an eyebrow. “Hell-angel?”
“Isn’t that what he is?” I followed him as he made his way to the fireplace, put together some kindling, and started a fire.
“Hell, definitely,” he said as he stared into the flaring flames. “But, an angel…”
“Isn’t he like you?” I presented what I thought I had pieced together. “A messenger angel but taking souls to hell instead of heaven.”
Leon lifted his gaze to mine. “He’s very much different from us,” he said, reminding me that he wasn’t the only one with angel essence but that I would be like him soon enough.
“How?” I wanted to know, holding his gaze as the fire grew and crackled, brightening his features and letting shadows dance across the planes of his face.
“For one, he’s immortal,” Leon threw at me with an unreadable look.
Even though Cas had indicated it, it hit me like a bolt of lightning. “Immortal.” I stared into Leon’s dark eyes, into the depths of knowledge that I yet had to learn. “Like never-dying immortal?”
“How many other types of immortal are there?”
Chapter Twenty-One
Leon
The orange glow of the hearth-fire warmed Laney’s face, chasing the shadows away—at least, the ones that were apparent on her skin. The ones that hid behind her crystal-clear eyes were an entirely different story.
I sat back in the wooden chair I had pulled up to the fire, not even bothering to open the window blinds. Some things were best left hidden—things such as the contents of this cabin.
“I think I found something,” she whispered from her own chair where she sat bundled up in my scarf and jacket, still looking like she was freezing. For a moment, I had wondered if she was sick, shivering beside the fire. But then I remembered how I had felt coming here for the first time. How I had literally felt the power resonating within the walls of the cabin—the power of generations.
It was then that I’d known Grandpa had been telling the truth; that there was more than what was apparent to the eye in this world.
I held out my hand and let Laney lay the book into mine, making sure her fingers brushed against my skin.
Her touch didn’t fail to make me feel the way it always did. Alive.
Her eyes locked on mine for a brief second, lips twitching involuntarily as I let her take in my face. I knew it was a matter of patience—not my best trait—until she would realize that none of it was an act. That none of our embraces, of our hand-holding, was something I took lightly. She had ceased being a mere friend a long time ago. Sadly, she had never realized just how much I saw when I looked at her, when I looked into the electric blue of her eyes where heaven and hell seemed to collide.
When she tore away from my gaze, I lifted the book I held and pretended to study it, unable to truly read the meaning of the words when she was so close. Not that I needed to read the page before me. I had memorized most of the contents of all the rows of books and journals years ago when I had gone through my own transformation and locked myself away here for a good number of days—until I’d been ready to take my first soul.
Grandpa had explained it all to me, the whole process of inhaling a soul, how it would settle in my chest, right where the angel’s essence was woven into me, and how I would be able to use that same essence like a map to take the soul home.
“What do you think?” Laney asked with the same whisper as before, almost like she was anxious she would wake up some slumbering e
vil. If she only knew how right she was. How close good and evil were to each other. Like love and hate, woven of the same texture that kept the world together.
I took in the page I had been blankly staring at and recognized the drawing of a figure wrapped in shadows. “A Shadowbringer,” I noted. “The mechanics of their dark workings.”
Laney nodded, hair sliding over her shoulders as she turned back to the fire as if reading answers there. “It says they bargain for souls,” she told me what I already knew. “That Lightbringers will need to go up against them for the rest of eternity to try to save the ones worth saving.”
There was something like reproach in her voice now that she had given up on whispering, and the melody of her alto carried like a sweet song through the scent of dust and fire.
“Until the end of the earth,” I confirmed.
But that wasn’t what bothered her. It was something completely different. Something I should have anticipated but was too ignorant to do.
“How do you know a soul is worth saving?” she asked, glancing at me with a look like molten ice.
Her question hit me right in the chest. Of course, she would wonder that. I had wondered when I was little. How does someone decide who was good and who was evil, who was redeemable and who was beyond saving?
“It’s a gut feeling,” I answered truthfully. For that was what it was. “Something you develop over time.” I watched her as she tried to read from my face whether I was being serious. “Of course, there is that calling that occurs whenever discovering someone with a soul worth fighting for.”
She tilted her head, probably wondering what I meant by that calling. So I gave her a small smile and explained, “The essence of the angel feels when a soul is about to leave a body—when someone is struggling with death—and we can answer the call, pulled by the knowledge of the angel.”
Laney’s face twisted. “Isn’t that like … I don’t know … having a parasite?”
I stifled a laugh. “Worse,” I joked, a smile still stealing itself onto my lips as her expression turned into horrified. “Can you feel it at all yet?” I was curious. While my grandfather had manifested in his early teens and made me a Lightbringer through his death so early in life that I was still a child, Laney’s grandmother had never manifested. So it was possible that she wasn’t even like me. That she would never become like me and would remain trapped with the sight of the angels and nothing she could do about it. See souls leave, see Shadowbringers bargain for the souls of her loved ones—
Torn: A young adult paranormal romance (Breath of Fate Book 1) Page 11