Angel Kissed (The Watchtower Sentinels Book 1)

by Jasmine Walt

  “Blast it,” Brodie hissed as he tugged his knife out of the man’s body. “Something’s not right. There’s a different kind of energy coming off these idiots. It doesn’t—it doesn’t make any sense.” He shook his head. “Get yer things, lass,” he said as he wiped the blood off his blade. “We have to leave. Now.”

  I stood, my knees shaking, then went to retrieve the knife. But that dark sensation brushed up against my mind once more, and I paused as a shiver of revulsion rippled through me. Instinct drew me to the window, and I brushed the curtains aside to see a third Demonkin standing on the other side of the parking lot. Those glowing eyes locked with mine for a moment before he turned tail and ran.

  “Arabella!” Brodie called as I burst out the door, but I didn’t turn back. These bastards had burned down my house, and I wasn’t going to stop until every last one of them had paid in blood.

  10

  Arabella

  The Demonkin raced across the parking lot and jumped over the back fence with lightning speed. I sprinted after him, fast as I could, vaulting the fence in seconds, but he was already halfway across a backfield, heading for a copse of trees on the other side. Dammit! I was never going to catch him at this rate.

  How many innocent people might he hurt and kill if you let him get away?

  As the thought crossed my mind, the birthmark on my chest began to burn. I tried to ignore it, but a tingling sensation began to spread through my right arm, and my vision suddenly changed. The Demonkin zoomed in, as if I were looking at him through a set of binoculars. He had to be fifty yards away… and yet I could see the light gleaming on the individual hairs of his blond head. The stitching in his jeans. The bead of sweat sliding down the back of his neck.

  Shoot.

  The command came out of the darkest depths of my consciousness. Shoot with what? I wondered, even as my arms came up of their own accord. In a trance, I watched a glowing bow and arrow appear in my hands, crafted of pure blue energy, and yet so real. A strange calmness filled me, and I nocked the arrow, then pulled back the string, all in one smooth motion. I’d done this a thousand times with real bows and arrows—shooting was second nature to me. But there was something different about this, something even more intuitive, as if the weapon was truly a part of me.

  The world went still for a moment as I breathed in, aiming. My target was almost to the tree line, but it didn’t matter now. He was mine. Supreme confidence filled me, and I released the arrow along with my breath.

  Time sped up again, and the arrow shot across the field and impaled him straight through the heart from behind. The Demonkin let out a shriek of agony that hit me like a visceral blow even from this distance, and the arrow in his back flashed brightly before dissipating. An invisible wave of energy rippled across the field, and the air suddenly felt cleaner, brighter.

  Purified.

  “By the saints, lass,” Brodie murmured. I turned to see him standing behind me, a stunned look on his face. “Ye did it. Ye called on yer Sentinel powers, and exorcised the demon from this bloody bastard.”

  “Holy shit.” My legs wobbled from beneath me, and the bow in my hands faded away. There was no escaping this now. It was real. I had done it. I’d slayed a demon.

  “W-what do we do with all these bodies?” I stammered as my whole body began to shake. “Oh God. We killed people. The other guests must have heard what was going on. The police will be here any minute!”

  “Calm yerself, lass.” Brodie took my hand and squeezed it. “I anticipated something like this might happen, so while ye were asleep, I took precautions. None of the guests at this fine establishment will have heard a thing.” He grinned at the astonished look on my face. “I told ye I had a few tricks up my sleeve.”

  “No kidding.” I let out a shaky breath, then turned toward the third Demonkin lying in the field. “So what do we do with these guys?”

  “The first two, we get rid of,” Brodie said, releasing my hand so he could stalk toward the Demonkin I’d just shot. He crouched down beside the prone man, then pressed two fingers against the side of his neck. “But this one is still very much alive. And now that he no longer has his demon to depend on…” he added with a fierce grin that sent chills through me. “There’s nothing stopping us from tying him up so we can finally get some bloody answers.”

  11

  Brodie

  I slung the unconscious Demonkin over my shoulder and hauled him back to the motel room. It was still dark out, only four in the morning, so we had a few more hours until the sun’s rays crested the horizon and undid my spell. Druid magic worked closely with nature, and the type of magic I’d used to put the motel guests to sleep was tied to the night.

  Arabella walked ahead of me, her hips still moving in that hypnotic sway even though she was shaken from the ordeal. The lass was changing before my very eyes, and I didn’t know what to make of it. One moment, she was trying to run away, claiming that she knew nothing about the world she’d come from, and in the next second, she was conjuring celestial weapons and exorcising demons.

  What had happened to the lass to make her this way? I wished Gaia would tell me, but, as usual, the goddess was as silent as the earth beneath my feet. It was her way, and begrudging her for it was like being angry at the sea for crashing its waves against our shores. No, there was no use wishing and praying for Gaia to give me answers. If I wanted to learn why the lass was so screwed up, I’d have to find out myself.

  Starting with this Demonkin.

  Arabella opened the door for me, since my arms were full of Demonkin. As we stepped inside the miserable excuse for a motel, her shoulder stiffened. “How are we going to get rid of these guys?” she asked quietly, her dark eyes fixed on the dead bodies soaking blood into the carpet.

  “Magic, o’course,” I said, slinging the Demonkin onto the bed. He made a sound in the back of his throat, but otherwise he didn’t budge. Lazy bastard. Ignoring him, I grabbed the dead man by the door, then hauled him over so that he lay next to his unholy brother. Next, I pulled soil and herbs from the pouches on my belt, then sprinkled them over the bodies. This sort of thing was always best done outdoors, in a field, where the bodies were closest to Gaia, but even though I’d put the other guests to sleep, I didn’t want to risk someone stumbling across the ritual.

  I could feel Arabella’s eyes on me as I knelt on the floor by the heads of the bodies, but I ignored her. Druid magic could be finicky, and it required absolute focus. Taking a deep breath, I pressed one hand to each of the Demonkins’ chests, then began to chant the words of the spell that would return them to the earth. With closed eyes, I visualized drawing Gaia’s power out of the ground and into my body so I could pass it into these unfortunate bastards. It came slowly at first, just a whisper of strength, but gradually grew stronger as I pulled more from the well. The bodies began to tremble beneath my hands, and Arabella gasped as I pushed the power into them. Their bodies began to crumble, transforming into something very different, until my hands were pressing not against flesh and blood, but freshly turned soil.

  “You… you turned them into dirt?” Arabella asked, sounding stunned. I opened my eyes to see her standing by the foot of the bed, staring at me as if seeing me for the first time. “Can… can you do that to living people?”

  I shook my head. “Only to the dead. The living tends to fight back when they’re being turned into soil,” I joked, rising to my feet.

  Arabella pressed her lips together, not biting on my attempt at levity. Her normally tanned skin was ashen, and it occurred to me that she’d probably seen more death and destruction today than she’d ever seen before—at least, as far as she could recall.

  “Lass,” I said, approaching her as one might a skittish animal. “I ken that this is a lot to process, but under the circumstances, we can’t go slowly. Not while these unholy scum are hunting ye.”

  “Yeah, I get it.” She scrubbed her hands over her face, and a sense of helplessness overtook me at the despa
ir in her eyes. Gaia help me, but I didn’t want to see this woman hurting. I wanted to take her into my arms and kiss her until she forgot her fears. Slide those clothes off her body and replace them with my hands and mouth, until all she knew was my name, and not a trace of the nightmares haunting her eyes remained.

  But I couldn’t. Keeping my distance was the only way I could ensure she remained safe.

  “I just wish I knew why they were after me,” she finally said in a hollow voice.

  “Ah. Well that, I can help ye with.” I turned back to face the unconscious Demonkin lying on the bed. “We’re going to wake him up now, and squeeze him a bit. Are ye ready for this, or do ye need some more time?”

  Arabella lifted her chin. “No,” she said, resolute. “I want to find out what these assholes want. Let’s give this guy hell.”

  I grinned at the determined spark in her eye. The Sentinel was back. Glancing around the room, I decided the radiator was the best place to tie up our new friend, so I hauled him over to it, then used the sheets to tie him to the rusty metal box. They were cotton, which was good as I held a little bit of sway over natural fabrics. A few words and a bit of power were all it took to bind the Demonkin to the sheets, and then the sheets to the box. None of the three would part without my permission.

  “Do ye want to wake him, or would ye prefer I do the honors?” I asked.

  Arabella eyed him speculatively for a moment. The fear from earlier was gone—she was all calm, collected rage now. “I think I’ll do it.”

  I stepped back as she sauntered over to the unconscious man, and damned if she didn’t look sexy as hell when she was hot and bothered like this. She got down on her knees so that she was eye level with the bastard, then slapped him across his sorry face.

  “Oww!” The Demonkin’s eyes popped open, completely human now. There was no trace of glowing red in those hazel depths as they darted between Arabella and myself. Fear filled his thin face, and he began to tremble. It was pathetic. “Where am I? What are you doing to me? Let me go!”

  “No.” Arabella’s tone was sharp, like a whip crack. “Not until you tell me why Lucas is after me.”

  “How the hell should I know?” he yelled. “And who the fuck is Lucas? Is he the one they were so afraid of? Is he the one who put that thing in me?”

  I frowned. This man certainly was not acting like a Demonkin. And like the two back in the warehouse, these three had felt off. What was it that made these bastards so different from the rest of their unholy brethren?

  “Were you ordered to burn my house down, when you couldn’t find me in it?” Arabella hissed, coming so close that her nose nearly brushed against the quaking man. I supposed I couldn’t blame the sorry ass—the look in her eyes could melt flesh. “Is that why your friends burst in here to try to kill me?”

  “Not me,” the man scoffed, as though such a notion were absurd. “I just watched. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even talk. I couldn’t do anything to stop it. That monster was inside of me, pulling the strings.” Tears formed in his eyes. “I have children. Please…”

  Arabella’s shoulders tensed, her gaze hardening. “You’re lying,” she said, but the steel in her voice was tempered with doubt. She shot me a questioning look, and I stepped in, wanting to probe this anomaly with a few questions of my own.

  “Ye ken what a Sentinel’s weapon does to yer kind, do ye not?” I asked, folding my arms and settling in front of the liar. “If it strikes a fatal blow, yer demon is destroyed, and ye will never be able to merge with another one again. Ye can no longer wield the power of hell.”

  “Really?” Tears of what looked like joy filled the man’s eyes, and I stared, dumbfounded. “Oh, thank God! I was beginning to think I’d never be free! Are you telling me the truth? Is he really gone?” The man tried to reach for his face, but the restraints blocked him. “Please, let me go! My wife and children must be worried sick—I need to get home to them!”

  Arabella and I exchanged a look. “Are… are you saying that you were bound to that demon against your will?” she asked carefully.

  “Of course I was!” the man cried. “Who on earth would willingly let a demon into their body? It was the most terrible thing I’ve ever experienced, having that unholy thing control me. I… I’ve done such terrible things because of it.” More tears coursed down his cheeks, and he hung his head. “I don’t know if God will ever forgive me,” he added in a small voice.

  “Oh my God,” Arabella breathed. She turned back to me, her eyes wide with horror. “Did… did we just kill innocent people?”

  I could only stare. By the gods, these men hadn’t been Demonkin? They’d simply been poor souls, trapped in their own bodies as a demon possessed them? “Gaia save us,” I breathed as guilt slammed into my chest with the force of an anvil dropping from the sky. No wonder these men had seemed off to me. They weren’t Demonkin at all. “We need to untie this poor fellow. Now.”

  I snapped my fingers, and the restraints loosened enough for the man to sag against the radiator. Arabella and I each grabbed an arm and lifted him, then sat him onto the bed. He hunched over, staring at his upturned hands as if he was seeing them for the first time.

  “What’s your name?” Arabella asked gently, sitting down on the bed beside him.

  “Toby,” he said, his voice faint. “Toby Fillmore.”

  “Would you like us to take you home, Toby?” I asked gravely, settling against the windowsill across from the bed. The gods preserve us, but it was the least we could do for the man after what he’d just been through.

  The man lifted his gaze to me, those eyes full of hope. “Can you do that?”

  “We probably can,” Arabella hedged. “Where is your home?”

  “I live in Bakersfield,” he said, glancing between us. “Is that very far from here?”

  I opened my mouth to say that I didn’t know, but Arabella beat me to it. “That’s only an hour and a half from Los Angeles,” she said confidently. “We’re on our way down there, so we can drop you off.”

  “Oh, thank you!” The man flung his arms around Arabella in a quick hug. “That means so much to me. It really does.”

  “We’re happy to help,” I said, though I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to lug this guy in the car for a twelve-hour ride. Why couldn’t he live somewhere nearby? But it was the right thing to do, and I could make him forget us so that no connection would remain. “Now, is there anything you can tell us about the man who did this to ye?”

  12

  Arabella

  “Arabella, I need to tell ye something,” Brodie said, his voice grave. His tight grip on the steering wheel and the rigid set of his broad shoulders told me that it wasn’t going to be sunshine and roses. That, and he used my name, which was something he’d never done. How did he know it, anyway? Had Gaia told him?

  “What is it?” I asked, glancing back at Toby to make sure he wasn’t listening. As expected, he was passed out in the backseat—Brodie had put a sleeping spell on him to make sure that he stayed unconscious for the trip down to Bakersfield.

  Brodie let out a deep sigh. “I told ye that I’d had a vision of yer death, and that Gaia sent me to make sure it hadn’t passed. I think that under the circumstances, it would be a good time to give ye the details.”

  I stiffened. “Okay. What did you see?”

  Brodie swallowed. “Ye were falling to yer death in a fiery pit that looked to lead to the bowels of hell itself. A blond man with a glowing mace, that I now assume must be Lucas, pushed ye in, and he was laughing triumphantly, as if he’d just won some glorious battle.” His lips twisted in disgust. “As I understand it, the futures Gaia shows us can be avoided. But I dinnae know whether we have successfully avoided this one.”

  A heavy weight settled on my chest. For a long moment, I simply stared out the window, saying nothing. So, the little voice in my head that I’d ignored had been right. Just because Brodie had rescued me from the warehouse didn’t mean that I was out of th
e woods yet. Lucas could still get his hands on me, and this future could still come to pass.

  “Well, I guess we just have to get to this Watchtower ASAP, right?” I said lightly, as if running for my life was no big deal. As if I wasn’t exhausted, operating on a handful of hours of sleep, with an unconscious man behind me and a larger-than-life Highlander Druid next to me. As if my life hadn’t gone straight to hell in less than forty-eight hours.

  “Aye,” Brodie agreed. He glanced sideways at me, curiosity on his face. “Ye seem remarkably calm about all this.”

  I shrugged. “I’ve decided that freaking out every five seconds isn’t doing me any favors. It’s just giving me high blood pressure and killer headaches. Might as well make the best of things instead, right?”

  Brodie just smiled, then reached across the gearshift to squeeze my hand. Warmth spread through me as his strong fingers curled around mine, filling me with tingles that made my toes curl. It was such a simple action, but the gesture meant more to me than I could say, and I squeezed back tightly. We may have been through our share of ups and downs over the past two days, but Brodie had been there for me the whole time. He was my white knight, my protector. My champion.

  Only because the earth goddess told him to, a voice in my head reminded me. Do you really think he’d be risking his life and putting up with your damaged brain otherwise?

  Pain sliced into me, and I turned my face to the window, doing my best to shove that thought as far away as possible. In a life where I only had acquaintances and co-workers, Brodie was fast becoming the first real friend I’d had in a long time. I couldn’t bear the thought that he didn’t really care about me—that he was only here thanks to some non-corporeal entity with ulterior motives.