Triggered (Blackbird Book 1)

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Triggered (Blackbird Book 1) Page 3

by Aly Westman


  Again I found a smile pushing my muscles apart...but I was weak. Weaker than before. “What did I miss?” I whispered. Everyone turned and looked at me.

  “Ava...You look like death,” Damion said. Seth punched him in the arm.

  “My head hurts.” I felt sick to my stomach too. And I know this is what I wanted. But...I wanted to hear more of their conversation. “Can...I have some water?”

  Quinn was up and out of the bed before anyone asked me to repeat myself. He came back with a large glass. I tried to raise my hand to hold it but I couldn’t. My body wouldn’t respond and suddenly fear came over me. I was dying. I had really done it.... My body was heavy, each breath was a struggle, my heartbeats felt as if they were dropping from my chest….what had I done?

  My eyes pricked as if tears would be falling out but nothing came. “Ava.” I could feel my eyes roll around and part of me felt as if I was drunk. My body so heavy it began to sway, the room spinning.

  I looked into Quinn’s soft panicked eyes as he wrapped his arms around me to steady me. “I’m scared.” I whispered.

  This was what I wanted. I wanted to die...because I was consumed by darkness. All I could think about was what had happened to me...all I could see was their evil eyes, feel their hatred of me, know the pain they caused me. I wanted it gone...but then...the laughter. Why was Seth a Canadian with a Russian accent? Damion was married? But he seemed so young! And Corey, what is it they held against him that brought so much laughter to them? They eased my body...With their easy banter and the sound of their voices. I was scared...My body began failing and for the first time in a long time, I was scared of dying instead of living.

  “Ava!” Quinn shouted. He was straddling me, Damion in close holding my head up. “Is this what you want?” But it was too late. The room grew cold. I tried to say thank you to them...thank you for easing my last moments. I thought of cherries and cinnamon, of Monty Python and Fast and the Furious, of funny moments we wish we could take back and reversible marriages...and I thought of final promises...promises to never die alone...promises that were kept.

  I blinked and when I opened my eyes I was suddenly confused. I was no longer laying in a bed, in pain and dying. I was standing on a gravel road. I frowned. My head was clear, my body felt as good as it ever did. I looked up and stared at a house, my house. Two story white house with a wrap around porch and a small animal barn just off to the side.

  My breath caught in my throat and I stood stunned. "Daddy?" My body was numb as I threw myself forward, ripping down the old gravel road. Was it called a dream? A nightmare? I had no pain, I didn't feel ill. God, I wish I could get rid of the memories but what if...what if none of it was real?

  I ran up the porch steps and ripped open the front door. "Dad!" I screamed, tears bursting from my eyes. "Please, Dad." I ran through the living room, everything sitting exactly how I had left it. A throw blanket carelessly hanging off the couch, a book my father was reading sitting open and face down so he wouldn't lose his spot, even the lavender flowers sat in a vase on the coffee table, filling the room with its sweet scent.

  I tore through the kitchen, rushing from room to room in search of him. "No!" I cried. "Please don't be a dream." Fear swamped me as I remembered the number of times I sat in that filthy well water and dreamed of being home once again. But this felt different, I felt like I truly was here.

  I paused at the front door, out of breath from having run in a complete circle through the bottom half of the house. Nothing.

  There was a creak from upstairs and my heart stopped. I pushed the tears aside with the back of my hand as I took the stairs two at a time. "I'm home. I'm here. I'm home." The words tumbled from my lips through a shaky breath. I pushed open my father's bedroom door only to find it empty.

  "He's moved on." An elderly voice reached me from my room. I turned around and walked towards it. My room was the exact same as I had left it. Lavender walls covered with doodles and drawings I had created when I was bored. My bed sat unmade in to the left and my dresser remained with clothes hanging out of the drawers as if I had been in a rush to leave.

  Across the room, sitting on my window bench was an elderly woman. I had never seen her before, and I didn't know who she was, so I was wary. Her white hair was curly and in contrast with her dark skin. She wore an old blue dress with a large white apron wrapped around herself, and as she sat she was knitting something with bright colorful yarn.

  I let out a soft breath and looked to the floor. "I'm dead...aren't I?"

  She said nothing at first, the clicking of her knitting needles the only sound in the room. Was she Death? Was she a Reaper? "No child. You be not dead."

  I frowned. "I...don't understand."

  "Come now, come sit with GiGi."

  There was an aura about her, or just a feeling I had, that seeped with safety. Slowly I walked towards her and sat on the window bench, looking out and towards the small animal barn across the yard. It all looked so real but I now knew how very fake it was. "Where am I?"

  "It is called many things, but it’s best described as the in-between. Neither living nor dead, neither here nor there."

  "And my dad? He's dead...isn't he?"

  She nodded. "Aye child. He has moved on." Anger built up inside of me. I ran in here thinking he would be here, hoping he was here, praying it was all a stupid nightmare. But no, it really had happened. "He be with your mum."

  And just like that my anger sank. I looked down at my hands. "And I? Can I go with them?"

  "No child. You have work to do here."

  "This is bullshit!" I stood and began pacing. "You too? You, what, reaper? You are going to tell me that I have to find this stupid demon prince too?"

  A small smirk appeared on her lips, still she kept her head down as she knitted. "I ain't no reaper child. I'm a necromancer." With that she looked up. I don't even know if she was looking at me, her eyes were pure white. No pupils, no color. Was she blind? I paused and stood still, staring at her. "And no, I ain't going to tell you to seek out that good for nothing crow."

  I sank down, sitting on the bed across from her. “You know him? The demon prince?”

  “Aye.”

  I hung my head down. “Then you understand why I don't want to go back. Why I want to move on and be with my parents.”

  “Aye child, I understand it quite clearly. I see it in most tortured souls. Let me tell you now though, your soul if different, unique. Your path ‘as just begun. ‘Tis not time yet, for you to move on.”

  “So if I can't move on then what do I do? How do I recover?”

  “Recover? Does any of us ever recover? Nay, we never forget the pain. Never forget the images. But, aye, we find something new to keep us forward. You belong in the mortal world, you be staying in the mortal world. What for, we ask…. Stay with ‘em hunters, I have a feeling they be pointing you in the right direction.”

  I opened my mouth to ask her more, to ask what she meant by all that, but before I could make a sound she waved her hand and I was falling backwards into darkness. Some part of me became afraid, maybe she was sending me to hell.

  Chapter 4

  The room was silent as her final breath fell. Damion and Quinn kneeled on the bed on either side of her. Corey and Seth stood at the end of the bed. Seth had the phone in hand waiting for the moment he should inform Ty.

  “She still has a pulse,” Quinn whispered, two fingers pressed to her radial artery on her wrist.

  “Quinn…” Corey’s voice was soft, knowing how hard this was for his brother. “It won’t be long.”

  “I know.” He sighed. They waited as seconds felt like years. All four of them silent. They didn’t know this girl. They had never met her, or her father. They were handed a folder, one folder with one photo and the words Find Her written angrily and underlined by Ty. The folder contained the standard information, where the last time she had been seen, that she had green eyes and brown hair, that she was twenty years old.

&nbs
p; How had four men felt so strongly about a girl they only found a few days ago. Seth reasoned perhaps it was because this was Ty’s niece. Because he owed Ty so much more than this and this was part of that repayment. But when he stared at her all he could see were those broken brown eyes. As each of the guys grabbed a hold of that well cover and lifted it up, he nearly screamed when he saw the sharpened spikes on the other side. But then there she was...and his heart nearly stopped. She weighed next to nothing as he pulled her out of that well. All the while she kept her eyes on him...Those eyes were burned in his memory. She stared at him with such relief...and he had done that, brought that relief...his team had gotten to her before the demons could kill her. What he didn’t realise until afterwards was she really was already dead...inside.

  Corey wanted to leave the room, he had seen too many people die and he didn’t want to do it if not necessary. But he told himself he stayed to be there for his brothers. He would do anything for them, run through hell and back for them. So yes, that's what he told himself when he found his feet glued to the ground, unable to run. Never mind the fact that this girl made his heart stop, that moment she grabbed Seth’s gun and pointed it in the general direction of his head. Never mind the fact that all he could think about was the safety of Quinn, and when she made her shot...when the demon fell to the ground...he wanted to thank her. To thank her for saving the others. And he would have too, he was going to do it...Only when he looked into her eyes he had seen it. He had seen the toll the last six weeks had been. He had seen the destruction the demons left behind. He barely made it out after a few days, never mind weeks. If anyone had a clue of even a fraction of the pain she was going through it was him...So he had to be here...as someone who may understand her wishes to die.

  Damion refused to leave her. She was dirty, covered in filth, and smelled of stale water. He wanted to wash her, fix her hair, make her feel good...yeah...he wanted to make her feel good. His heart leapt when she pushed into him while they watched movies, she felt calmed by him, he could sense it. Her aura was so dark and faded but as they watched Monty Python her aura flowed with ease. It changed color, and when he stroked her cheek so gently her face relaxed and she seemed so content. He understood her wishes, no way in hell could he hold her down again. Her fear and sorrow had run right through him and he couldn’t bear it.

  Quinn’s fingers itched to do something about it. Had it been a minute? Past a minute? It felt like ten and he cursed himself for not timing it. How long had it been since she stopped breathing? He reached out and felt for her pulse again...Thub, thub. Thub, thub. It was so strong, so steady. Corey did his job, he tracked down the demons. Seth led them and executed the ambush. Damion took down most of them, and was there for her emotionally, as an empath was. And him? God fucking damn it! He was supposed to treat her medically. He was supposed to ensure her health and bring her back. And now he was sitting next to her body wondering if that was her last breath or if she may take one more, or two. He was fucking useless!

  The sharp intake of air shocked everyone. All four of them leaned forward as Ava’s eyes shot open in panic. “Corey get my bag, I have dilaudid injections to take the pain away,” Quinn said quickly. He didn’t want to lose her but he sure as heck wouldn’t let her go in pain.

  Ava reached out and grabbing Quinn by the shirt. Her breaths were rapid and weak. And her eyes? Damn, her eyes were strong and determined, just like her heart. “Save. Me.”

  Fuck yes! “Corey! My bag!” Quinn reached out and grabbed a few alcohol swabs from the side table. He began cleaning her arm and looking for an artery. She didn’t need to tell him twice. “How do you feel?”

  Her breathing was labored but he had some medication for that. “Shit,” she said.

  “Hang in there, I have to start an IV okay? It’s a small poke.” Quinn grabbed the bag from Corey as he came rushing back in the room. He started getting the supplies set up.

  “Lies,” she said. When he looked up at her she had a small smile on her lips.

  Quinn didn’t know what happened to her, no one did. Near death experience of some sort? And they never questioned her change in decision. “I got this, I got this, I got this…” Quinn mumbled over and over against as he attempted to get her severely dehydrated veins.

  “Quinn,” Seth said, coming around to him and placing a hand on his shoulder. “Easy brother.”

  “You’re good Quinn.” Corey placed his hand on Quinn’s other shoulder.

  “Yeah man.” Damion looked up at him across from Ava. “You got this right?” He chuckled.

  Quinn smiled and shook his head. “Yeah jerk, I got this.” Ava barely flinched once he had her vein. He grabbed the bag of fluids and hooked her up. “Ava I’m going to give you some dilaudid. It’s going to make you sleep, but it will take away pain and help you breath.

  She nodded. “Thank you,” she rasped out before closing her eyes. Quinn knew he could do this...he would do this...he wouldn’t let her slip away.

  Chapter 5

  My body was heavy, like when your arm has gone to sleep but it was past the point of being tingly. My eyes were gritty and my mouth pasty but I was breathing. It took me a moment to realise the raspy noise was coming from me.

  I don’t think I will ever forget that first moment of waking up with all four guys around me. I barely knew them and they barely knew me. Quinn and Damion were curled on either side of me and Seth was stretched out along the end of the bed. His legs so long they hung over the edge of the bed. I raised my head and saw Corey on the other side of him, sleeping on the edge.

  With that little movement my head began swimming so I quickly laid it back down. The room was bright, it must’ve been morning. I looked around the room briefly, taking in the pale blue walls and the large oversized TV that hung from the wall. It was a fairly plain and spacious room. Then my head started to really pound, I could feel it in the back of my eyes.

  I felt movement to my right and looked over to see Quinn’s hand holding my wrist. I looked up and was sure he was sleeping. It wasn’t until I noticed the placement of his fingers that I realised he was taking my pulse. I looked back up to his face, this time I was met with stormy grey eyes.

  I didn’t jump...I wasn’t scared. For once in a long time I felt no pain. I was so used to agony that when my body was rid of it words couldn’t describe the relief I felt. And it was because of them.

  “Thank you,” I tried to say but it came out in a hoarse whisper.

  Quinn smiled and damn if I wasn’t already breathless I definitely would be now. He sat up slowly and reached behind him, pulling over a glass of water from the nightstand. “Take it easy,” he said as I shuffled a bit to sit up.

  I weakly took the glass and slowly sipped on the cool fluids.

  “How do you feel?” he asked.

  I cleared my throat and this started a coughing fit. It hurt to cough so hard but at the same time it felt good. I could feel my lungs clearing with every heavy cough.

  “This is normal, just keep coughing,” Quinn said soothingly, his hand on my back. Once the fit stopped I felt the full force of my pounding headache.

  I tried to lay down a bit, my eyes firmly squeezed shut.

  “Pain?” Quinn asked.

  I almost nodded to him but thought better of it. “Yes,” I whispered, my voice a bit more clear than before. There was some shuffling and when I opened my eyes Quinn was slowly injecting something into my IV. “No more! Please, I don’t want to sleep so much.”

  “It’s okay, I lowered the dose. It’s very addictive stuff but right now you need it. I will keep slowly weaning it until you don't have anymore pain.” He smiled at me again and I could just feel my body sink into the bed with relief.

  “Damion your feet smell like shit.” Corey huffed.

  “Stop sniffing them then,” Damion mumbled as he rolled over. “How’s our little princess.”

  I flinched. I was nobody’s princess. “Call me princess again and you will feel just as
much pain as I do,” I grumbled.

  Damion laughed.

  “Dame...Get. Your. Feet. Out. Of. My–”

  “What’s that? Wiggle my toes under your nose?” There was a shuffle of movement and suddenly Damion was gone beside me with a loud thump on the ground. He was laughing so hard it was hard not to smile.

  “Alright. I’m up.” Corey stood and stretched. I was surprised I even remembered their names. They were all so different though it was easy to distinguish them. Corey had short dark brown hair and the most beautiful green eyes that stood right out. He was lean but I could see he was built under his shirt. As he stretched, his muscles coiled in his arms and his shirt rode up, revealing those delicious V lines that I enjoyed so much on guys. My eyes traveled slowly up his torso, taking in his shape before reaching his face. It was then that I realised he was watching me...watch him. Corey was expressionless, his face almost of stone. He reached up and grabbed the headphones that were around his neck, slipping them on before turning and walking out the door.

  Damion stood from the ground, rubbing his shoulder. His light honey like eyes smiling as he gave me a wink and followed Corey out the door. Seth remained sound asleep at my feet.

  “Are you hungry?” Quinn asked.

  I shook my head. “I want a shower.” Everything sort of felt surreal to me. Was I really out of there? Was I even there in the first place? And what of my dream...of the in between...did that really happen?

  “Maybe we can put a chair in there. I don’t suppose you want a bath?”

  I looked down at myself. The filthy clothing that I had been wearing for God knows how long. My skin looked tan but I knew otherwise. But I felt at a loss. My body ached, I could feel my wounds pulling under my shirt...I didn’t even want to think about or look at those. “I don’t know.” I sighed. “I feel gross but I also feel like…” Like I deserve it. Like I was dirty on the inside and that’s why I should feel this way. A bath wouldn’t really clean me.

 

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