Fractured (Guards of the Shadowlands, Book Two)

by Sarah Fine

  “If Malachi Sokol hadn’t decided Warwick High was the perfect place for him to experience American culture,” he said bitterly. “That dude’s timing sucks.” He stared out across the water. “Or maybe mine does.”

  I drew my knees to my chest. “Ian, I—”

  “No. You’ve done me a favor. Don’t worry about it.”

  “A favor?”

  “Yeah. It’s been killing me, wondering if it was me. If I’m just not …” he sighed. “But you said this would have been different if he hadn’t shown up. Do you mean that?”

  I squeezed my arms tighter around my legs. “I think … yeah.” It might have helped if I could have told him how I met Malachi, how he’d saved me, how he made me better than I was, and how he sacrificed a peace he’d earned with decades of suffering and service, all for me. How he was the first and only person who had ever told me he loved me. And even if that wasn’t true anymore, it had changed the shape of my heart and carved itself into the marrow of my bones. It had created a space in which my own feelings could grow, and they had, and that couldn’t be changed now, no matter how beautiful and good the boy in front of me was.

  “He’s going to prom with Laney. I think they’re together.” His words were quiet but deadly.

  “I know.” A thought occurred to me, vaulted into the front of my brain by the pain in his voice. “That’s not why I’m here, Ian, and it’s not why I said I’d go to prom with you. No matter what we do now, I need you to know that. I’m here because of you. And I never wanted to hurt you.”

  “It’s okay. You love who you love.” His smile was laced with sadness. “We all do.”

  “You’re amazing, Ian.” I meant it.

  “That’s what all the ladies tell me.” He grinned in this devastating, fake-cocky way and snagged a petit four from the box.

  I laughed and grabbed one for myself. The bittersweet chocolate provided an endorphin rush I badly needed. “So,” I said when I’d finally swallowed it. “What now?”

  He leaned back and rested his elbows against the rough stone. “I drive you home, and I pick you up tonight, and then we have an awesome time at our senior prom.”

  I frowned. “You still want to go?” I realized that I’d half-hoped this would get him to stay home. If I had to break his heart, I wanted to at least keep him safe.

  He looked at me like I was crazy. “It’s senior prom. Party. After-party. You expect me to stay home and cry into a plate of spaghetti?”

  “Okay, then.” I paused. “Hey, listen. I’ve heard some rumors. Nothing too specific. Only that there might be some party crashers.”

  “Are you talking about those meth freaks who jumped us at the theater?” His gaze sharpened. “There’ll be security. They’ll only allow students in.”

  I bit my lip. “Okay. Just, I don’t know. Be ready.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “All right,” he said slowly. “Does Malachi know? ’Cause Laney’s been my friend since elementary school, and she’s a nice girl. She shouldn’t get mixed up—”

  “Malachi would never let anything happen to her. And believe me, he can protect her. She’s probably safer than anyone.”

  “And who’s going to protect you if anything goes down?” Ian sat up straight, brushing off his palms.

  “I don’t need anyone to protect me, all right? Trust me on that one, too.”

  He mumbled something under his breath, and then stood up and held out his hand to help me to my feet. “It’s after noon. I should get you home.”

  I followed him back the way we had come, drawing slow, steady breaths of ocean air into my lungs and taking measured, sure-footed steps over wobbly rocks and loose gravel. Time to get ready for tonight … and maybe squeeze in another hour of knife practice, too. There was no way the Mazikin were getting my friends. I was just getting my head right when my phone buzzed with a text from Henry.

  Tonight we won’t be so gentle.

  While I tried to make sense of the words, my phone buzzed again. It was a picture. A man, lying in a pool of blood, his face a pulpy, unrecognizable mess. But even so, I knew him by the scarecrow limbs, the thinning gray hair.

  And the crossbow lying at his side.

  THIRTY

  “STOP FIDGETING, FOR GOD’S sake, Lela. Do you have ADHD or something?” Tegan was about to lose it on me. I’d arrived an hour late at her house, having spent the entire afternoon in an intense planning session with Malachi and Jim, waiting to hear word from Raphael.

  Henry was in the hospital, under heavy police guard. The Mazikin had somehow figured out who he was, beaten him nearly to death, and called in the cops. We didn’t know if they’d possessed him before they dumped him. We didn’t know if he would survive. All we knew was that he was the prime suspect in the homeless murders, and in his head he carried all the necessary knowledge to bring the earthly Guard unit down. Raphael had gone in to do damage control, however he saw fit, but if Henry was a Mazikin now, one of us would have to put him down. That knowledge, along with my rage that they’d hurt one of my Guards, almost made me look forward to fighting them face-to-face. I wanted to hurt them. Especially Sil. I had no doubt he was responsible.

  Tegan pinned another curl into position. Her own hair was slicked into place, and her makeup was shimmery and perfect. I had a feeling Jim was going to have a hard time holding himself together when he saw her. With the stakes so high and the danger so clear, all his protective instincts would go into overdrive.

  “You and I haven’t talked about Jim,” I said, wishing I were better at girl talk.

  Her look softened. “I’ve never met anyone like him.”

  “That makes sense,” I mumbled.

  “He’s … he’s so sweet. Innocent, kind of. Like when he experiences stuff, it’s for the first time. But then, there’s a part of him that’s all been-there-done-that.” She shrugged. “He’s a bit of a mystery. I’ve never even been to his house.”

  “But you like him?”

  Her mouth twisted up at one corner. “Well. He’s hot as hell, so how could I not?”

  “It’s more than that.”

  I felt her quiet burst of laughter on the back of my neck. Most of my hair was piled on top of my head in what she called “a messy updo.” It was organized chaos, but she insisted it looked good. She slid in a final hairpin and stepped back. “It’s a lot more than that,” she agreed. “But we’re taking it slow.”

  I couldn’t hide my surprise. She saw the look on my face and slapped my arm. “I’m not a slut. Jeez. But also, he’s kind of old-fashioned. He said we should make sure what we have is ‘real’ before we … he said this was important to him. Too important to rush.” With a hopeful smile, she turned her face away. “We’ll see what happens tonight.”

  Indeed we would. Right now, Jim and Malachi were probably strapping weapons to their battle-hard bodies, getting ready to defend the senior class from Mazikin attack. I glanced over at my backpack. Time to add a few critical finishing touches to my own outfit.

  I stood up. “I’d better get changed, I guess.”

  “Go ahead. Greg said they’d get here at seven.”

  I grabbed my backpack and went into Tegan’s enormous bathroom, all marble and brushed nickel. The mirror reflected a stranger, a shimmery-lipped, bronze-cheeked girl. Apart from the scars, a pretty girl.

  A girl who would kick serious ass if anyone threatened the people she cared about.

  My fist tightened over the strap of my backpack. I pulled out my phone and called Raphael, who answered before the phone had a chance to ring.

  “They didn’t possess him,” he said to me by way of greeting. “Henry is himself.”

  I exhaled with relief. “How is he?”

  “They hurt him very badly. Tortured him, by the looks of it. I’m impersonating a doctor here at the hospital this afternoon, so I’m healing him in spurts. I’ll remove him from their custody later, once I’m sure he won’t die while I’m moving him from place to place.”

&
nbsp; “Okay,” I whispered.

  “Enjoy your evening,” he said, his tone changing completely, turning bright and casual, sending a chill down my back. “I’ll call you if anything changes. Be careful tonight.” He hung up.

  I dropped my phone into my pack and pulled out my garters, gloves, and shoes. I stripped down, avoiding the sight of myself in the mirror, of the claw marks across my stomach that Sil had given me the last time we met. He’d been small and weaselly, but fast. Deadly fast. And merciless. I’d barely gotten away, and even then, I would have died if Raphael hadn’t healed me.

  The flowing fabric of my burgundy dress slid over my skin, light and comfortable, fitting me perfectly. The matching garters were snug at the tops of my thighs; the narrow, sharpened blades, their curves catching the light, slid snugly into their sheaths and were concealed completely by the skirt. I pulled on my weaponized shoes and put on the gloves. Ready.

  A knock at the door. “Lela? They’re here early. So is Diane. She and my mom are dying to take pictures, so you’d better get out here.”

  I looked down at my beautiful disguise. “Coming.”

  With my heart beating a rolling rhythm against my ribs, I walked down the long hallway and entered Tegan’s living room, which could have comfortably housed Diane’s entire split-level. Jillian and Levi were by the window, their heads together, breathing on each other. Tegan was introducing a nervous-looking Jim to her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Murray. Alexis and Greg were lounging against the piano, where Tegan’s little sister, Greta, a ten-year-old prodigy, was showing off.

  Laney was on the couch, looking luminous and angelic and fragile in deep-green silk, jabbering at Malachi, who was standing next to her and staring at the arm of the couch like he was about to kill it. He looked up as I walked in, and our eyes met, long enough for me to feel it like a rusty poker through my chest. His posture changed subtly as we stared at each other, like some of the air had leaked from his tires, but he kept a straight face. I fought to as well, but it was hard. He always looked good, but tonight he looked amazing. Like a young, olive-skinned James Bond or something. I’d never seen anyone look so good in simple black.

  Then Ian came out of the kitchen with a sandwich in his hand, which he raised in Mrs. Murray’s direction with a smile. She nodded back indulgently; clearly, she was no stranger to Ian’s compulsive eating habits.

  He took a few steps into the living room, and then stopped dead. “Whoa,” he mouthed, his green eyes sliding from the top of my head down to my feet. He looked down at his sandwich like he had no idea how it had come into his possession, swallowed hard, and then set it on an end table. “Hey,” he said, walking toward me, wiping his hands on the side of his tux. “So Tegan wasn’t kidding about this dress.”

  I grinned because, Goddammit, this felt good. Much better than Malachi’s perfect professionalism, the ease with which he turned away from me to attend to his gorgeous date. To have a guy as hot as Ian look at me like I was some sort of goddess wiped a little of the pain away.

  “I’m glad you approve.” I reached out and took his offered hand, and he pulled me toward him. I narrowly missed stepping on his foot, and reminded myself to be careful. He probably needed his toes.

  “Approve is a mild way of putting it,” he said quietly. “You’re killing me. Can we pretend like our conversation this morning didn’t happen?” His easy smile told me he was kidding. Mostly.

  My cheeks warmed, and the way his eyes stroked over my face, I knew he hadn’t missed it. “I’ve got an idea,” he said, leaning over me. His lips brushed my ear. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Malachi’s head turn quickly. “Use me to make him jealous. Please?”

  I pulled back, looking into his handsome face. “Even if that were possible, I’d never do that to you.” I reached up and touched his cheek. “We’ll have fun tonight, all right?” And hopefully, we’ll all come out of this alive.

  He put his arm around my waist, and the heat I’d seen this morning had returned to his expression. “I want you to know something, Lela. Sooner or later, Malachi will go back to wherever he came from, but I’ll be here. And I can be very patient.” He bowed his head over mine, staring into my eyes until I blinked. Then he grinned, and the fire in his eyes was gone—or maybe hidden. “I just needed to say that. But for tonight, good clean fun, coming right up.” He kissed my temple. “You look beautiful.”

  A flash startled me, and I looked up to see Diane wipe a tear from her face and aim the camera at us once again. I smiled as Ian threw a casual arm around me, still a little stunned by the way he could switch that intensity on and off. He turned on his easy charm as Diane took a few more pictures, stopping between each to wipe her streaming eyes. It was totally embarrassing—but in an awesome way. She was here. I mattered to her, and everyone knew it. Before she left for her night shift at the prison, she pulled me into a tight hug. “You deserve this happiness, baby,” she said quietly before she let me go.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and willed myself not to cry. For a moment, and despite everything that was going on, I was happy, wrapped in the arms of my foster mom and feeling no desire to pull away.

  After Diane left for work, Mrs. Murray took a few pictures of all of us together, me and the people who had become my friends, people who I’d thought were as two-dimensional as a snapshot, but who’d turned out to be so much more once I actually got to know them. The irony was a little painful—I hadn’t known that when I was alive and had a life to live. Only now, when I had no right to any of it, could I see it clearly, all this possibility.

  God, I wanted Nadia to be there so badly. I wanted her to see this and know she’d been right, to thank her for burrowing a tiny tunnel through the miles of defenses I’d built, enough to let the light in.

  “I know you’re missing her,” Tegan said. I turned to see her standing at my shoulder. She gave me a sad smile. “I am too.”

  I nodded, struggling to speak around the enormous lump that had formed in my throat. “I think we’re all missing people tonight. I know Ian’s missing Aden.”

  Our eyes traveled across the room, to where Ian was now lounging on the couch, laughing with Levi. There was a conspicuous space between them, and I got the sense that they’d unconsciously left a seat for Aden there, not yet having reshaped around his absence. I shuddered, thinking about where Aden really was, hoping he wasn’t suffering too much.

  “We’d better get going, folks,” Greg finally hollered, tapping at a new watch worth more than my car. “The bus leaves for the restaurant in five! Load up your overnight bags because we’re not coming back!”

  The girls all filed down to the bathroom for final lip glossings and cleavage boostings and whatever else, while the guys started carting bags to the SUV. Ian hoisted his long duffle over his shoulder, as well as my smaller backpack. It looked like he’d packed enough clothes for a whole week. Levi had also packed a massive duffle, but it was clear he and Jillian were sharing. I stood there, watching everyone file out to the SUV to start the evening, feeling there but not there, with them but alone.

  I promise, I thought. I promise I’ll keep you all safe.

  As we walked into the civic center, I was happy to see security guards hanging around. It made it seem less likely that we’d have a horde of vagrant-looking Mazikin descending upon us. Pictures of Aden and Nadia graced the lobby, reminding us that they should have been here. Ian slowed as he walked by, and I took his hand and squeezed when his jaw tensed and his eyes got shiny.

  Malachi, Jim, and I took turns patrolling the perimeter so that we didn’t leave our group of friends unguarded. Raphael had texted during dinner to say that Henry had regained consciousness, and I was hoping he’d slipped him out of the hospital by now. I was also hoping Henry would be able to tell us what happened—and maybe the location of the Mazikin nest. I circled the ballroom with my phone in my hand, waiting.

  As the hours dragged and nothing bad happened, apart from the agony of having to watch Laney and Malachi
slow dance, which, thankfully, they only did once, I actually found myself getting impatient. Had Clarence’s threat been a total ruse? Had the Mazikin changed their plans? And if they had, what had that text—Tonight we won’t be so gentle—meant?

  I returned from my final perimeter watch just in time to hear the announcements for prom king and queen—Ian was king, as expected.

  And Laney was queen.

  Her face lit up, but then fell as she looked at Tegan, who I’d thought would have a lock on it. But Tegan only gave Laney a sly smile and shooed her away, making me wonder if she’d stuffed the ballot box. Levi and Jillian were named prince and princess. I stood behind Malachi’s chair and watched as the four of them were crowned on the stage and descended to the dance floor. They seemed … right where they should be. The angel-kissed, ready to go on and have fabulous, happy lives. It didn’t hurt to watch as much as it felt disconnected somehow, like I was already a step removed from this place, from these people.

  Tegan and Jim got up to join, followed by Greg and Alexis, leaving Malachi and me alone at the table. It was Jim’s turn to patrol, but he deserved a break, and he looked so happy with Tegan in his arms that I couldn’t hold it against him.

  Warm fingers brushed over mine, and I looked up to find Malachi standing next to me. He held out his hand, but the look in his eyes was surprisingly uncertain.

  “I’m sure Ian wouldn’t begrudge me one dance with you,” he said quietly.

  “Would Laney?”

  He sighed. “If I thought it was improper, you know I wouldn’t do it.”

  “That was an amazing nonanswer,” I mumbled as I watched my hand rise without my permission and take his.

  And then I was in his arms, and it overwhelmed my circuitry, making the rest of the room go dim around me. I missed being that close to him, at least, during a time when we weren’t trying to kill each other.

  Malachi must have been thinking along similar lines. He used one arm to hold me close, and then took my hand and tucked our entwined fingers against his chest. “This way,” he said with a devastating smile, “I can be sure you won’t draw with your strongest hand, which greatly increases my chances of survival.”