“Screw you,” Kara says, looking annoyed. “I came because I wanted to help. And Sid needed a driver. He’s not feeling well, or haven’t you noticed?”
He seems his usual self to me, wide eyes looking around, and calm as always—even though he should be freaking out. I’m freaking out.
“Don’t be silly, I’m fine,” Sid says, patting Kara on the arm like an old man would. Except he’s twenty-four.
“You’re supposed to be checking the camera feed from the hospital with Connor,” I say.
She rolls her eyes. “We finished. Stop being a spaz. I can take care of myself.”
I bite my tongue until I can say, “I’m sorry, Kara, but this is bad.”
“Just explain what happened,” Sid says.
I turn back to the cave and they follow. “The wall is cracked and the same black goop, like in your shed, is seeping out. The demon seems to be attempting to cast a spell.” We go around the altar and I motion to the floor, at the sand-coated massacre.
“My God,” Kara breathes. She covers her nose with her hand and points at the leg.
“Yes, that part’s human,” I say, my stomach rising again. “Like I said, I think it all must be for some sort of spell.”
Sid sighs and runs a hand over his face. “They were probably attempting to look for the key their leader promised them. Demons are a gossipy bunch.”
I stare at Ava, my throat tightening. “But why would they be looking when the key is right here?”
“They don’t know that, obviously.”
“They’re seriously that stupid?” I ask, doubtful. “They can’t figure out the thing they’re looking for is right in front of them?”
“Not if they can’t see her.” He shrugs, like it’s all so obvious. “The spell I did is still fairly solid, from what I can tell.”
“The spell? Obviously the cave isn’t hidden, Sid. The demon waltzed into this place like it lived here. It killed a dog and possibly some woman! Ripped it to shreds right there!” I point at the pile of remains.
“The spell is on Ava alone, not the cave, Aidan,” Sid says. “No one would believe a cave suddenly just up and disappeared. It’s been here far too long for a spell to trick the minds of those who know right where it is.”
Relief floods through me. And annoyance. “This would have been great information to know an hour ago when I called you in a panic! My fucking grandma could be in danger, but I didn’t want to leave Ava because I was worried the demon would come back.”
“Well, perhaps we should check on Mrs. O’Linn, too, then.”
“Ya think?” I brush past him and rush up the beach, yelling behind me, “Wait there.”
I reach the front door of my great-grandmother’s house and pause before knocking, trying to catch my breath. I can’t let it show that I’m upset; the woman has no idea what’s going on, and I have no plans to tell her. What was I thinking, not secretly placing wards around this place, too? I should’ve realized this could happen, that this area would be a hub of activity, even with Ava being invisible. Thank God she’s still hidden, at least.
The door opens before I can knock and my grandma’s nurse, Fa’auma, is there in the entry. Both legs intact.
“Are you just going to stand out there, sweating?” she asks. She smiles wide and in my relief to see her safe, I answer with my own goofy grin. “I can get you some lemonade, you know.”
“Sorry, I was just looking for Mrs. O’Linn to ask her a question,” I say, then sputter, “I found this spot in the garden, off to the side, that seems to be dying, and I just wondered if Mrs. O’Linn wanted me to take the bushes out altogether, or something . . . Maybe water it by hand?”
Fa’auma waves me inside the house. “You are just too helpful, young man. I’m going to have to try and convince her to start paying you for all your help.”
I begin following her into the entry, but as I step over the threshold an odd sense of the ground tipping makes me hesitate. I know that feeling. I haven’t felt it in a while, but I recognize it instantly. An angel is close.
And as I walk into the living room, I can’t help saying his name in surprise. “Eric!”
Mrs. O’Linn looks up from a TV Guide crossword puzzle and frowns at me. “What? Did you just call me a ferret?”
I gape at Eric, who’s standing right behind my great-grandmother’s chair. Neither of the ladies realizes he’s there.
He’s in the form he was in when he came to me after I died, during my Awakening, when I discovered he’s my guardian. The burns or markings or whatever they are on his upper chest and neck seem almost violet against his pale skin, as does the long scar on his scruffy jaw, which appears to have come from a knife or a fight of some kind. His hair is so golden it glints in the sunlight, making him a little blinding to look at. And he’s wearing those odd clothes again, made out of something like handwoven wool, instead of his usual five-thousand-dollar Italian suit. He stares back at me, obviously seeing me in spite of my amulet. But he stays still, silent.
“Aidan wants to talk to you about a dead spot in the garden,” Fa’auma says to my grandma. “You be nice now.” Then she wanders off to the kitchen, likely to get me something to drink.
Mrs. O’Linn huffs and then points at the flowery couch. “Sit. You’re distracting me from my crossword puzzle.”
I lower myself slowly onto the overlong couch along the wall. I give Eric a questioning look, but he just shakes his head and frowns.
Annoyed, I mouth at him, What the hell is going on?
Before I can see his response, Fa’auma sticks a drink in my face and I have to smile and act normal. Ice clinks in the glass as I take it, my limbs still shaking from everything that happened on the beach.
“My word, boy, wake up!” my grandma barks. “Are you on some kind of gang-banger drug?”
I shake my head. “S-sorry. I was . . . I thought, um—”
“Well, spit it out!” She waves her TV Guide at me. “It’s almost time for my show.”
I clear my throat, trying to find my focus again. “I mean, um . . . I saw some dead, uh, plants is all.”
Her brow goes up. “Well, you’re acting as if you’re about to confess to killing them.”
“No, ma’am.” I look over to Eric and glare at him. Where the hell’s he been? And why is he suddenly showing up at my great-grandmother’s house, of all places?
“Then take a break,” she says, as if I’ve actually been working in the yard all day. “Drink your lemonade and watch my show with me; it’ll be on soon, after Judge Judy. It’s a good one; the woman kills people for a living. Quite unrealistic but she is spunky. I could have played that role, you know. In my younger years, I was much more adept at being spunky than most. The young these days, they just don’t understand . . .” She keeps going on but I tune her out. She does this a lot, the rambling. Most of the time I find it endearing, but right now it’s like a fly buzzing around my head.
Eric seems to take her distraction as some sort of cue and walks over to me. It’s oddly fascinating to watch, almost like he’s in slow motion. As he moves, gold flecks catch the light, falling from his shoulders and hair, and there are small flames at his feet where he steps. He motions for me to stand and I obey, unsure if I even have a choice.
“What’s happening?” my grandmother asks, sounding flustered. “Are you ill?” I must have an odd look on my face because she appears genuinely concerned, which is totally unlike her.
Before I can answer, Eric is reaching out to me, touching my temple with his gold-tipped finger. And then everything stops, the world is suddenly frozen. My grandma is stock-still, halfway to her feet; Fa’auma is standing in the entry, with a hand raised to her throat, completely immobilized. Like shocked wax statues. It’d be funny if I couldn’t see the horror on their faces.
They’re staring at something on the floor behind me.
I turn and look down, and see . . . me. My body is lying there, pale as a ghost, the limbs oddly askew. I
’m staring down at myself even though I feel like I’m still standing on my feet.
Damn. It’s happening again. I’m dead?
I step away, creeped out. “What the fuck did you do, Eric?!”
“You’re not dead. Just asleep.”
I glance back at my body and realize my head is bleeding, like I hit it on the coffee table when I went down.
“You will return to your body in a moment,” he says.
I scoff, turning back to him. “I’m so relieved. I’ll also have a concussion, from the look of it.”
“Your new body heals quickly. You’ll be well.”
Yes. My new body. I look him over, his old-world clothing, his proud chin. He seems a little different than the last time I saw him—besides all the gold and angel stuff, I mean.
“Much has happened on the other side,” he says, answering my unasked question. He sounds tired.
Well, I have a whole lot more to ask. “What the hell is going on, Eric? Where have you been? I have no idea what I’m doing, or how to fix anything with my sister. I’m totally lost. I need help—”
“Enough. Other things needed my attention. You were capable of taking care of yourself for a few days.”
“It’s been weeks,” I snap. “Everything’s a mess. I’ve been digging into everything I can to figure out how I can bring back my sister and I’ve found all of nothing. Now Kara’s sick and I’m totally clueless. I need help with my sister, to find her and bring her back. I have no idea what—”
“Your sister is why I’ve come,” he interrupts, his voice grave.
“What do you mean?”
“A seal has been broken and I believe your sister’s soul is to blame.”
“What seal?”
“A seal over the Realms. There’s been a breach. Shortly after your sister was placed into her between-state by the Heart-Keeper, a cry rose from the East and there was talk of a revolt under the archangel there, Rafa’el. The spirits have become scattered among his ranks and it’s causing chaos on both planes. I believe Ava’s father is attempting to find her. He will soon discover she’s no longer in her body, if he doesn’t know this already. He’s not a creature to be trifled with, and we cannot allow him to find her if he’s broken ranks. Nothing good will come of it.”
“Her father.” Ava’s angelic father, who bought time with my mother like she was a common whore. Not someone I ever want to meet. Or meet again, since I probably knew him as one of her “boyfriends” once. “Who is he?”
“One of the dominions, or Hashmal, a midlevel eastern spirit; his name is Jaasi’el. He is the keeper of fire, spirit, and spark in those lands under Rafa’el. Or he was. So much has gone wrong so quickly.” His features sink with concern the more he says.
A dominion. That’s really not good. I’ve only seen one of their kind once in my life, when I was nine, and it was more a blink than a real look. But even from that small peek I know that I never want to run into one and be on its bad side. They’re huge; more than seven feet tall, and they have wings that span a good twenty feet. There are vines growing up their arms and legs like armor, and what look like thorns growing from their knuckles.
“So, you’re here because of Ava’s father?” By the tense look on his face, I can tell Eric knows how bad it could be to cross a dominion. But I don’t see why we’d have to cross this one. What’s so terrible about an angel finding Ava? Eric should be focusing on the Darkness. “You do realize there’s also a demon down on the beach, making artwork out of the insides of a dog in front of the gateway, right?”
“Of course. I sensed a witch call it up and felt it become corporeal. It won’t cause any trouble, though. It’s merely a scout.”
“A scout for what?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps one of the generals waiting on the other side of the gateway. Or it could merely be seeking its master.”
That doesn’t sound good. How can Eric not be sure? And the memory of the growl I heard coming from the wall isn’t making me feel any better.
“As long as one of these scouts doesn’t figure out how to open the doorway, they’re harmless. The smaller scouts will be drawn here and to other doorway locations by the vibrations, by the calls of their generals, but they won’t find a way to complete their task as long as your sister remains hidden.
“Jaasi’el, however, is another story. He is powerful, and the Key Keepers of the gates favor him enough to help him get through into Sheol to seek Ava’s soul. This is another reason I’ve come here to check on the protections; I wanted to be sure Jaasi’el hadn’t found her body—the soul and body must be reunited if he wishes to truly have her for himself. But the protections appear to be very solid, despite your mentor’s failings.”
“Sid’s doing the best he can.” I have no clue why I’m defending the guy, but I suddenly feel annoyed, seeing Eric’s obvious unhappiness with everything.
“It won’t matter, he has very little time left here.”
A weight settles in my chest.
“He broke the rules of nature, Aidan. He will have to pay the price eventually.” His voice is hard, and I wonder why he’s acting so above it all. It’s not like him.
“You’ve turned into a bit of a dick, Eric.”
“My name is Azri’el. Eric was a construct for hiding what I truly am.” He kind of sounds like he’s saying that more for his own benefit than mine. “My task was never to be more than a protector and a watcher.”
“Eric was my friend, but whatever.”
“That time has passed. Now you’re something else as well. You’re human, but not the same as those you’ll save. And you’ll see, it will separate you from them. They won’t understand the difference; they’ll fear it.”
I think of the way the cat lady looked at me, the way people always seem to look at me now. But how is that any different than when I was a street kid? “I’m used to being an outcast.”
He nods, then looks over to the two frozen figures in the room. “You should go back to the women now. I’ll protect them if anything attempts to do harm, but you’ll need to put some barriers in place around the property. I have other things that need my attention. If I can’t find Jaasi’el and hold him back, then you’ll have more to worry about than a lower scout. You’ll have unimaginable things coming through that doorway. Things not seen by human eyes since the time of Noah.”
TEN
Rebecca
The cab driver pulls up in front of the LA Paranormal house. I hand him one of the many hundred-dollar bills my dad left me—guilt always pays well. When I tell the driver to keep the change, he jumps right out to help me with my bags, obviously excited about the forty-dollar tip. I thank him and tell him I can manage on my own when he offers to walk me to the door. Then I turn and head up the brick path.
I stop at the base of the porch steps and straighten my shoulders, trying to convince myself I did the right thing coming here. Aidan didn’t meet me for coffee and didn’t text because he was busy. Everything is fine. It has to be.
Flowers line the porch and bright-green grass carpets the yard; they’re obviously not concerned about the drought. The house looms over me a little; the three-story Victorian is like an old yellow farmhouse that doesn’t seem to fit in the neighborhood. It should be cheery, but it isn’t. The windows stare back at me like they know I’m intruding.
My scar tingles at the thought of going back inside there. But I take a deep breath and walk up the steps onto the wrap-around porch and face the red door. There’s a wreath made of an odd mix of plants hanging on it.
I knock. When no one answers after a few seconds, I reach over and ring the bell.
The door opens quickly. It’s that Jax guy, a frown of annoyance on his face. “No Watchtower. I’m already actualized, thanks,” he says before looking at me. Then his eyes settle on my chest, trailing up to my face. “Oh, shit, hey! The sexy redhead.” He winks and pushes his black-framed glasses up his nose. “How’s things in rich-girl land?”
Jax is kind of cute, actually. He has a cool style and is always smiling. If only he wasn’t such a chauvinistic pig.
“Is Aidan here?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Nope. On a job, of sorts. But maybe I can help.” He folds his arms across his chest and leans on the doorjamb.
I try to peek around him. “Isn’t Connor here?”
He rolls his eyes and turns, yelling into the interior of the house. “Connor!” Then he motions me into the entryway. “You sure he’s the one you need, Ruby? He’s the grumpy one, you know. I’m the fun one.”
“It’s Rebecca.”
“Sure, right.” He glances down at my cleavage again, then back to my face with a wicked smile. “You here to hang, or what?”
I clear my throat and clutch the strap of my shoulder bag tighter. “I need a place to stay.”
His face opens wide, brow going up and smile spreading. “Really. That should be interesting.”
I don’t know what to say to that. It’s obvious I’m the butt of some joke in his head.
Connor comes from the back of the house, saving me. “Hey, what’s up?”
I forgot how blond and tall he is, maybe six feet and built like a swimmer. He fills the space he stands in like he’s claiming it. He’s eighteen or nineteen, as I recall. Though he seems older with that shadowed look in his very blue eyes.
“Red here is wanting to crash,” Jax says.
“Rebecca,” I correct. I don’t like being nicknamed for the color of my hair. I glare at him. “Rebecca Emery Willow McLane. But you can call me Emery.”
He winks again. “Sure thing.”
Connor seems confused by my paragraph of names—I don’t blame him, really—but he just studies me and then says, “I’m not sure there’s room for you anymore.”
Oh, God, I didn’t even think about the possibility of being rejected.
Jax looks at Connor with a frown. “What? Of course there’s room.” Then he turns back to me—or my chest, I should say. “There’re plenty of beds around here that would welcome you, Red.”
I cringe. “Wow.”
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