by Jasmine Walt
Taking a deep breath, I sat down on the cot, then waited a few minutes. All was silent but for the guard’s breathing outside, and I knew he was waiting to see if I’d use magic to blast my way out of here. Of course, I couldn’t do that—there were runes etched along the door and the walls, preventing me from using my power on them. So I sat silent, counting the seconds, waiting for him to move away.
When he did, footfalls fading away, I breathed a sigh of relief. Then I pulled up my right pant leg and slid a hand into my sock. The Sentinels had taken away my pouch belt, and they’d patted me down, but not thoroughly enough.
They’d forgotten the spare piece of chalk I kept in my sock as backup.
“Thank Gaia,” I muttered, kneeling on the ground. I began to draw a current circle on the cement floor, chanting prayers under my breath. The circle was the easy part—it was the runes within that were more difficult. Each one had to be drawn with care—a misplaced line or curve could botch the whole thing and send someone to a place they didn’t want to be. There was one story of a Druid who accidentally landed in the Faerie Realm, and was bewitched by a selkie. It had taken him a month to free himself, and by the time he came back to the Earth Realm, a hundred years had passed. I couldn’t let something like that happen to me. Not if I wanted to fulfill my oath to Gaia, and protect the woman who I cared about far more than was wise.
Finished, I stood tall in the circle, then closed my eyes and reached out with my senses. The thick metal reinforcing the walls and door made it difficult. For a moment, I was worried the runes would prevent me. But these runes were keyed to demonic power. At most, all they could do was prevent me from breaking the walls down. Slowly but surely, my senses penetrated the barrier and stole out into the Watchtower, seeking out my friends. The current circle allowed me to latch onto a specific person or place in order to travel to them.
I found Jax first. She was three floors above me, hopefully in the infirmary. The spell around her held, but not for long—I could already feel it fraying. Casting my consciousness further, I sought out Arabella. She was one floor up, and her agitation spilled through me the moment I touched her soul. She was going out of her mind with worry for Jax, scared and sick at the thought of her dying while she was trapped in that room.
I ached to go to Arabella, to take her into my arms and spirit her out of that place. But I knew that wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted her friend to be safe. And Jax was running out of time.
Gritting my teeth, I let go of Arabella, and then reached for Jax again. The world shifted around me, time and space warping, and exhilaration rushed through me, the way it always did when I rode the currents. It was like surfing on an endless wave at lightning speed, sounds and colors screaming past in a dizzying array that both overwhelmed and fascinated the senses. And no matter how many times I did this, it never got old.
When the world finally snapped back into place, I found myself standing next to a hospital bed. Jax was lying there, her skin still marbled, her heartbeat still absent. She was hooked up to machines, and a doctor was standing in front of them, cursing under his breath.
“Need a hand?” I asked pleasantly.
“Jesus!” He jumped about a foot in the air, then spun around, his white lab coat flying out behind him to reveal jeans and a V-neck sweater. He was a trim Asian man with black-framed glasses and a lean face that looked like it saw its share of sleepless nights. “Who the hell are you?”
“What the fuck?” another man yelled, and I knew Mack, the guard from before, was standing behind me. Did he have some sort of attachment to Jax, or was he just watching over her? “How did you get out?” he demanded when I looked over my shoulder at him.
“That’s not important,” I snapped. Ignoring both the doctor and the Sentinel, I approached the bed, then lifted Jax’s lifeless hand. “What’s important is that I wake her, so that you can save her life. Do you have the antidote, Doctor?”
“Doctor Yang,” the man said, confusion in his dark eyes as they darted between Mack and me.
“You get the fuck away from her,” Mack growled, yanking my arm away from Jax. “I’m taking you back to your—”
I grabbed the insufferable bastard before he could finish, and slammed him into the wall. The drywall cracked beneath the force of the blow, and I swore on Gaia’s green earth I could hear his teeth rattling around in his skull.
“If ye ever touch me with those filthy hands again, I will rip them off and shove them down yer throat,” I snarled. “Now stay the fuck out of my way and let me save yer girlfriend. Or do ye want her to die?”
The man’s jade-colored eyes met mine, blazing with outrage. But then they shifted to the lass on the hospital bed behind me, and all the fight seemed to go out of him. “Save her then,” he said roughly, shoving me away. “Your life depends on it.”
“I’m quaking in my boots,” I sneered, turning away before I punched him in his smarmy face. I took calming breaths as I approached the bed again, renewing my focus so I could undo the spell.
“You say you can awaken her?” the doctor asked carefully as I picked up Jax’s wrist again. “Normally, I’d refuse to believe it, but my machines are showing magical activity surrounding her brain despite the lack of a heartbeat.”
“Aye. That’s Gaia’s power, keepin’ her brain in stasis until I could get her to ye. ’Twas a good thing I broke myself out, because ye wouldna have been able to waken her without me.” She would have woken on her own in about an hour, but if the doctor wasn’t around, she would have died.
“Get the antidote ready,” I warned, pressing two fingers against Jax’s non-existent pulse. “Once I wake her, ye’ll only have a minute or so before the poison finishes her off.”
“Right here.” The doctor snatched a syringe off a metal tray, pre-filled with some dark purple substance. “Ready when you are.”
I nodded, then began chanting in Gaelic, calling on Gaia again. Gently, I flowed the earth’s power through the woman’s veins and up to her heart, coaxing it back to life. It gave a thump, then two, three, and the heart monitor began a slow beep, beep, in time to the heartbeats.
“Now,” I said, and then her pulse started fluttering wildly against my fingers. The beeping increased to a catastrophic rate, and my own heart leapt into my throat. “Now!”
The doctor plunged the syringe into Jax’s arm, and she let out the most awful scream I’d ever heard in my life.
23
Arabella
“Let me out of here!” I yelled, banging against the door with raw fists. I’d been at this for a good twenty minutes, with no results other than an aching throat and hands. “You can’t lock me up like this—I haven’t done anything wrong! Let me see Captain Palladino! Let me see my father!”
Tears rolled down my cheeks, over the moisture tracks already worn across my skin. My throat was tight with grief, my chest roiling with anger and despair, and all I could see was Jax, lying in the backseat of my car, her skin that awful black-veined marble, cold as death. Why, oh why had they locked Brodie up instead of letting him help?
“So help me,” I growled. “If Jax dies because of your stubbornness, I will rain hell upon you.”
Nobody answered my threat, of course. There wasn’t anyone listening, least of all Mack. I hoped he was by Jax’s side—if I couldn’t be, then someone had to, and she did care for him despite their ups and downs. Exhausted, I pressed my forehead against the metal door. And that was when I heard the footsteps.
Heart pounding, I backed up, instantly moving into a fighting stance. The locks disengaged, and I prepared to attack, but when the door swung open, I froze, unable to move a single muscle.
“By the angel,” Arden Palladino, Commander of the Los Angeles Watchtower, breathed. “It really is you.”
“Daddy.” My voice broke, and I started to tremble. He was almost exactly as I remembered him—salt-and-pepper hair, golden-brown eyes the same as my own, tall and lean with broad shoulders, and laughter lines ar
ound the eyes and mouth of his handsome face. But rather than the business suits my mind had conjured, my father was dressed in a white uniform with epaulets on his shoulders, a pair of golden angel wings pinned onto his breast. They were the mark of the Angel Kissed—Sentinels who had become one with their angels and could wield celestial fire. Another memory about that tugged at my consciousness, something about a fierce battle and golden flame, but my brain was overloaded, so I put it aside for later. All I could think about was that my father was really here, in the flesh—he hadn’t died in the car accident after all!
“I’m so sorry about this, sweetheart.” He closed the door and rushed to me with open arms. “They should have never treated you the way they did. This is all a big misunderstanding.”
“Daddy,” I sobbed, the tears coming fast as he enfolded me in his strong arms. I’d loved my parents equally, but there was something so much more comforting about my father’s embrace. I buried my face against his strong chest and shuddered, trying to force the tears back. “Daddy, we have to get Brodie to Jax. She’ll die if he doesn’t help her.”
To my surprise, my father chuckled. “Your Druid friend is already with her,” he told me. “He magicked himself out of his cell the first second he could, and landed in the infirmary.” I felt, rather than saw, him shake his head. “That’s a neat trick, teleportation.”
“He calls it ‘riding the currents’.” I lifted my gaze to his, relief sweeping through me when I saw no evidence of deceit in his expression. Not that I expected my father to lie to me, but still… “How is she?” I demanded. “Did they save her?”
“She’s resting now,” my father confirmed. “Your Druid friend is with her, waiting for you. We all owe him thanks. Without his interference, she would be dead.”
“Thank God.” I released my father, then moved to the door. “I want to see her now.”
“Hang on.” My father gently placed a hand on my shoulder. “I know you want to see them, but there are some things we should talk about first.”
I stilled at the cautious note in his voice. “Things like what?”
“Don’t you want to know what happened to you?”
I turned around. “You’re going to tell me the whole story here? In this cell?” I gestured to the stark chamber, devoid of any comfort.
“Under normal circumstances, we would have this conversation in my office. But I think it’s better you know the truth before we leave this room, so that you can be… prepared.”
“Prepared for what?” I asked as a chill raced through me.
“Please, come sit down.” My father lowered himself onto the cot, then patted the space next to him. “I’ll tell you everything, or at least everything I know.”
I hesitated, still torn between the desire to get answers and the need to check on Jax. But suddenly, a piece of information came to me from Jax’s memories. An image of me clasping hands with her in the ceremonial chamber as the Master of Rituals chanted in Latin, our brands glowing silver through our shirts. The wing-binding ceremony. Lifting my hand to my chest, I slipped my fingers through an opening in my blouse and touched the brand, thinking of Jax. As wing mates, the two of us had a special connection—I could use it to tell if she was alive or hurt, and even send brief messages. Closing my eyes, I reached out for her, straining with a sense I must have once used, but couldn’t remember. But the connection was frayed, and I couldn’t feel her.
“I blocked the bond between the two of you when I sent you away,” my father said, and I opened my eyes. “I couldn’t have her realizing that you weren’t actually dead. She’s alive, Arabella. Trust me, I would tell you if she was otherwise.”
“Fine.” I let out a ragged breath, trying not to be too distressed about the damaged bond. I believed my father—I didn’t see why he’d lie to me about this. “She better be somewhere safe and comfortable.”
“She is.” My father studied me for a moment. “I’m surprised you remember how to use the wing-mate bond. Did Jax teach you, when you met up with her? Your Druid friend told me the whole story,” he explained when I blinked in confusion.
“Oh.” I shook my head, sitting down next to him. “She gave me her memories, so I could fill in most of the blanks.” A wave of resentment filled me, and I glared at him. “Did you know that taking away my memories would fuck with my head? That I get weird seizures because of them now?”
My father stiffened. “No. I’ve never heard of such a thing.” He twisted around so he could cup my face in his hands, and the guilt in his eyes made me feel bad for my accusatory tone. “I’m sorry for any pain I’ve caused you, sweetheart. My intention was never to hurt you.”
Tears swelled in my throat. “Then why did you do it?” I asked, my voice a hoarse whisper. “Why did you take my life from me?”
My father dropped his hands, looking away. “It wasn’t me who took it,” he said, his voice hardening. “It was Lucas, your fiancée. I assume, judging by the story Mr. McTaggart told me, that you know who he is to you.”
“Yes.” The word was brittle. “He kidnapped me a few days ago.” I gave him a quick rundown of events, and my father nodded along, unsurprised by anything I said… until I got to the part about Lucas’s minions not really being Demonkin.
“He’s summoning the demons into their bodies without their consent?” My father’s eyes flashed with stunned anger. “Such magic is forbidden to our kind, for obvious reasons. Even the Demonkin don’t typically do it, because the demons are hard to control in that state. But then again, Lucas is strong enough to do it. Having two angels at his disposal makes him a force to be reckoned with.”
“Two angels?” My mind spun as I tried to comprehend that. “How could someone like Lucas have two angels?”
“Because,” my father said, his voice so heavy that my toes curled with dread. “He stole yours from you, the day he tried to get you to hand over the Infinity Key.”
Stunned silence filled the room. “How… how is that even possible?” I finally asked.
My father shook his head. “Above all else, Lucas was a scholar. He was well-versed in rune lore, and in charge of the Watchtower’s magical defenses. He would often travel to far cities in order to study ancient manuscripts, glutting himself on forgotten knowledge, and I permitted it because I didn’t see how it could do any harm. But he stepped far beyond the boundaries of a mere scholar when he began teaching himself the forbidden arts in those books, and then using them on Sentinels. On you.” His voice shook with anger on the last word.
My mouth dropped open. “On me? How?”
“I didn’t know, not at first.” My father scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’m telling this to you out of order, aren’t I? Let me start from the beginning.”
“All right.” I had a feeling this was going to be a long tale, so I settled my back against the hard wall and folded my arms.
My father was silent for a long moment before he began. “When you and Lucas first got together, your relationship was normal enough. You had already been wing mates with Jax for four years, and Lucas was a new transfer from the East Coast. The Moranius family is powerful, with a noble history, so I didn’t see any problem with allowing him to date you. He was an ambitious young man, but respectful, and he seemed to treat you well.”
“I’m sensing there’s a ‘but’ here.”
“Indeed,” my father agreed. “A year into your relationship, you came home one day after a fierce battle, glowing from the inside out with celestial fire. Your mother and I instantly knew what had happened—you and your angel had formed the ultimate bond of trust and had joined together in battle.” He gripped my hand, and my heart leapt at the fierce joy gleaming in his eyes. “You had become Angel Kissed.”
I gasped as the memory that had been tickling the edges of my mind earlier burst forth. It was of the night Jax and I fought a gang of Possessed in Lincoln Heights—humans who had unwittingly let demons into their hearts. They’d been using their powers to take over the
local gangs in the area to the point that they were attracting the local authorities, and Jax and I had been sent in to take care of them. But there had been more than we’d originally thought, and, on top of it, the gang had been run by a Demonkin. Outnumbered and outgunned, we’d fought to what we thought would be our death. But, out of nowhere, I’d begun to glow with golden flames that had raced over my entire body, turning me into a beacon of flaming light. And I’d used the celestial flames to wipe out every single demon that night.
“Lucas was jealous, wasn’t he?” I murmured, dazed at the revelation. “That’s why he took my angel.”
“I would surmise as much,” my father agreed darkly. “After you became Angel Kissed, your relationship changed. It took me a long time to catch on, because I’m always so busy running the Watchtower,” he said, guilt in his voice now. “But you started spending a lot more time with Lucas, and less time with the family. Jax came to me and said that your relationship was becoming unhealthy—that you were disappearing during your shifts to spend time with him, and that you were hopping at his command like a dog. I started to suspect something strange was going on, because you’re headstrong and fierce, and I couldn’t imagine you acting the way Jax said you were.”
A bad feeling began to swirl in my gut, and I braced my hands against the hard cot. “So what did you find?” I asked, my voice strained. “Was Lucas blackmailing me somehow?”
“Worse. He was using an ancient spell to control you. I think it must have taken him some time before he felt secure enough in his power over you to command you to steal the Infinity Key from our home and bring it to him.” My father swallowed, hard. “I’d been monitoring you both closely by that point, and I followed you the night you stole it. I needed visual confirmation of Lucas’s treachery in order to apprehend him, and also proof that he was controlling you and that you weren’t a willing accomplice.” His voice trembled a little now. “Unfortunately, Lucas had powerful magic shielding his home that wouldn’t allow me to pass, and it took time to break through it. By the time I made it down to the basement where he had you, he’d already ripped your angel away and was about to kill you. I would have smote him myself, then and there, but he used his magic to get away, leaving you crumpled and shaking on the floor like a broken doll.”