by Jasmine Walt
She wilna miss me very much when I return home, I realized as I watched her laugh and talk with the other Sentinels. Her face was glowing with good humor, the tension gone from her shoulders—she was more relaxed than she’d been the entire time I’d known her. Despite the lass’s apprehensions, and the number of people who remained seated in their chairs and did not approach, Arabella had friends here. She would be well taken care of amongst her own kind, and she wouldn’t need an outsider like me hovering at her elbow like an anxious mother hen.
“That wasn’t nearly as bad as ye thought it would be, now was it?” I said lightly as I escorted her from the mess hall. “In fact, I think ye even made some friends.”
“Maybe,” Arabella agreed, smiling as we walked down the hall. But the smile was replaced by a puzzled frown. “I didn’t see my father at dinner though.”
I shrugged. “He’s the commander. Maybe he uses dinner hour to catch up on work, because he knows everyone will be too busy stuffing their faces to interrupt him.”
“So you think everything’s just going to go back to normal, huh?” Mack’s sharp voice cut Arabella off mid-laugh as he walked around the corner. He raked Arabella with a scathing look. “You can just keep on using people and throwing them away, but it’s cool because you’re the commander’s daughter and they’ll just come flocking back to you anyway?”
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” Arabella snapped, taking a step forward before I did. “I never ‘used’ Jax. We were partners.”
“Sure you were,” Mack said. “That’s why you put her needs above all others, right? Because the two of you were wing mates? Jax never could bring herself to find another wing mate, and now I understand why. You’ve been dragging her down all along, and she didn’t even know it.” He spat at Arabella’s feet.
“How dare ye speak to her that way!” I snarled, stepping in between them. “I dinnae ken what bug crawled up yer arse, or how it can even fit there with the stick ye’ve got shoved in with it, but ye need to apologize to the lass. Or I’ll take that stick out and beat ye with it until ye can barely stand.”
“No,” Arabella said, her voice full of anger. I turned to see her glaring at Mack with a combination of hate and self-loathing. “He’s not worth fighting over. He just thinks that he can make things up to Jax by attacking me, instead of trying to fix the reasons their relationship never worked out.” Her lip curled. “Namely, his inability to keep his dick in his pants.”
Mack’s face paled, and he stepped back. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about—”
“Oh, but I do.” Arabella stalked forward, meeting Mack nose to nose. My heart swelled with pride as she jabbed her finger fearlessly into his chest, sending him on the defensive now. “Jax gave me her memories, so I know everything she does. I may not deserve her, but neither do you, Mack. So stop trying to pretend you’re the righteous one.”
She shouldered past him, and I had to hurry after her as she stormed down the hall. “Lass,” I began, about to compliment her on grabbing the bastard by the proverbial jewels.
“Brodie, please.” Arabella stopped, her voice pained. Her gaze was so rife with anguish that my heart broke. “I’m not mad at you, but I just need some space right now. Can you give me an hour? I’m going to go sit with Jax.”
“Aye,” I said, a little taken aback. “I can. Do ye ken where we’re supposed to sleep?”
“There are guest quarters on the fourth floor.” Arabella touched my arm, a bittersweet smile curving her lips. “Thanks for looking out for me, Brodie. It really means a lot to me.”
“Yer welcome,” I said softly, wishing I could reach out to her. Wishing I could kiss away the pain in those beautiful eyes.
But I couldn’t, so I watched her walk away from me, prepared to deal with the pain in her own way. As she had always done—alone.
25
Arabella
“Thank God,” I muttered as I pushed the manhole cover up and hauled myself onto the street. I thought I’d never make it out of those disgusting sewage tunnels. A car sped past me, honking its horn, and my heart pounded at the near miss. Glancing quickly to make sure all was clear, I rushed across the street and to the safety of the sidewalk before I became street pizza.
Brodie would never forgive me if I got myself killed tonight. Especially because I’d lied to him about where I was going.
Letting out a little sigh, I tucked my hands into my jean pockets and began walking up Vermont. I felt bad about deceiving Brodie, but I knew that he’d demand to come with me if I told him I wanted a walk. And right now, I needed my space. I needed to go somewhere else, where I could sit and think without having to worry about judgmental stares following my every step.
The daggers I’d tucked into my boots were a comforting weight as I walked the chilly evening streets, past the bums that huddled in the shadows, and the trendy residents that were window shopping. I’d grabbed them from the armory before I’d taken the secret entrance I’d gleaned from Jax’s memories that led me about a half-mile from the Watchtower, back into civilization.
The first thing I did was stop at an AT&T store to get myself a new phone. Back in Bakersfield, I’d managed to squeeze in a trip to the bank to get my debit card reissued, so I had access to cash once again. As the store associate helped me activate the phone, I felt almost giddy when the screen lit up, and my cloud data synced to the device. Holy crap, I was connected to the world again! I could check my messages, make some phone calls. Surf the web.
And just who are you going to call, anyway?
My heart sank at that. Who would I call? My training officer back in Portland? He must be worried sick, but I didn’t want him asking too many questions. It was best not to get the police involved at all—I’d have to ask my father about the best way to handle my old life. I thanked the associate, then headed back out into the cold, chasing my thoughts around in my head. It was so strange to think that the house I thought I’d grown up in, the house that Lucas had burned to the ground, wasn’t even my parents’ house at all. Perhaps my father had bought it for me, but he and my mother had never lived with me in there. It was all a fabrication.
What else in my life was a fabrication?
I walked for a few blocks, then ducked into a Starbucks for a cup of hot chocolate. Sitting at the bar with my steaming paper cup, I took cautious sips of the delicious brew as I scrolled through my messages. Lots from my training officer, and the cadets I’d been forming cautious friendships with. One from Millie, my neighbor. A couple from news stations.
Just as I was deleting the last one—thank God for voice-to-text voicemail—my phone started ringing. Surprised, I nearly dropped the damn thing, and instead sloshed hot cocoa all over my left hand.
“Shit!” I swore, grabbing some napkins and scrubbing at my burning skin. The phone continued ringing, and I glanced at the number. Three-two-three—that was Hollywood, I thought. Was someone from the Watchtower calling? Brodie might have noticed I wasn’t with Jax. I was half-tempted not to answer, but I didn’t want him to worry.
“Hello?”
“Hello, darling.” Lucas’s deep voice answered, and a chill went down my spine. “I knew you would answer.”
“Where did you get this number?” I demanded, forcing my voice to remain steady. My mind was racing as I looked around, trying to see if Lucas was nearby. I didn’t sense any demons, but still…
“Phone numbers really aren’t hard to obtain,” Lucas said airily, “and I’ve had you watched from a discreet distance, so I knew when you purchased that cell phone you’re holding. Tell me, is the snickerdoodles hot chocolate good? I’ve always preferred the peppermint mocha myself.”
A cold sweat broke out along my temples. “Just tell me what the fuck you want,” I snarled.
“You, of course,” Lucas said. “But since you’re being uncooperative, I went and got the next best thing.”
“And what’s that?” I drawled, doing my b
est to sound bored.
“Your mother.”
The phone slipped from my hands and went clattering to the counter. I sat there, numb, a buzzing noise filling my head as I struggled to compute this information. My mother? Lucas had my mother? But how? Nobody knew where she was!
“You’re lying,” I snarled, snatching up the phone.
“Arabella? Is that really you?”
“Oh my God. Mom?” My voice cracked as terror and disbelief filled me. “Mom, where are you?”
“I can’t believe you’re still alive!” Her voice was thick with grief and joy all at once. “Honey, you go straight back to that Watchtower. Don’t listen to anything this vile man says. Don’t—”
“Well, wasn’t that lovely?” Lucas asked, sounding all too pleasant. “I found her playing waitress in Playa Blanca, blending in like a Spanish native. Bit old to be doing that sort of work, don’t you think? She should be at home with her family, not singing for her bread and butter.”
“You asshole,” I hissed, stalking outside. I was drawing too much attention from the other customers. “My mother has nothing to do with this. Let her go.”
“I’d be happy to. Just come to the address I’m about to text you. But, and this is the important part,” he said, a warning note in his voice, “you must come willingly. If there is even a hint of resistance in your heart, I’ll know. And you’ll never get your mother back.”
He hung up the phone, and I nearly vomited. My stomach was churning with nausea and terror, my palms were sweaty, and I was shaking. Why was this happening? I hadn’t done anything to deserve this madness. God, I just wanted to run far, far away from this entire situation and pretend like I’d never stumbled into this life.
You already did that, a voice in my head said sternly. Or, at least, your father did it for you, and look how that turned out. You were born to be a Sentinel, Arabella. To serve and protect using your God-given powers. And, right now, you must protect your mother.
The phone in my hand buzzed, signaling a text message. It was an address to a place in Culver City—a good twenty-minute drive from here.
Come alone, he added, and don’t even think about calling the Watchtower for backup. I’ll know the moment you do.
Fine, I texted back. Cold anger overtook my fear, and I latched onto it as I called for an Uber to pick me up. I couldn’t let my terror weigh me down—I needed to stay strong. The car came to get me in less than a minute. As the driver sped away, I touched the brand on my chest and called out to Jax, over and over. I knew my father said the connection was damaged, but it was my only hope. If I just kept trying, maybe I could break through. Maybe someone would send reinforcements, before it was too late.
I’m sorry, Brodie, I thought, a lone tear slipping down my cheek as the driver raced me through the night. I wished I could have hugged him one last time, because there was a real chance I might die tonight. And he would blame himself for the rest of his life.
26
Brodie
As the lass had promised, there were guest rooms, and a quick chat with a Sentinel gained me access to a room with a full-sized bed, armoire, and a desk. There were even several changes of clothes in different sizes, all nondescript black, which I helped myself to after washing up in the communal showers. The pants were a wee bit short, and the shirt a bit tight in the shoulders, but my own clothes needed a serious washing, so I made do.
Trouble was, after I showered and changed, there was nothing else to do but sleep. I lay back on the bed, thinking I’d turn in early—I was exhausted to the bone and could use the extra rest. But when I closed my eyes, all I could see was Arabella’s stricken face, and the pain in her eyes as she’d told me to give her space. The lass was hurting, and she was seeking comfort from a friend who was too unconscious to give it to her. And all because I couldn’t bring myself to provide it.
It’s the right thing to do, I told myself sternly. Ye were assigned as her protector, nothing more. Besides, ye’ll be out of her life when this is all over, so ’twould be downright silly to get attached.
Who are you kidding? a voice sneered back. You’re already attached. Every time a man so much as looks at her the wrong way, you want to ram your first down his bleeding throat. Same for whenever a man looks at her the right way. Yer attached all right, and yer just too daft to admit it to yerself.
I gnashed my teeth together. Fine, so I cared for the lass. Who wouldn’t? She was beautiful, headstrong, intelligent, with a core of steel and a heart full of compassion. There was a quiet, yet indomitable strength to her the likes of which I’d never seen in a woman before. The kind of strength that spoke of loyalty and passion. Of duty and honor. Of holding onto what you believed in and never giving up.
If the lass isn’t giving up, then why are you? the voice asked me. Are you really so weak, so incapable of defending her, that you have to rely on the crutch of Gaia’s visions? You’ve never needed them before, so why start now?
I sat up straight at that. Right. I had gotten along just fine without the sight. Why had I grown so attached to the ability now that Gaia had finally granted it to me? It was true that without the sight, I would have never found Arabella. But now that I had her, was I really going to push her away just because I was worried about possible futures? If I was always there by her side to protect her, then what difference did it make whether Gaia bestowed the visions on me? Keeping the visions meant I had to give Arabella room to find happiness with another man. And I didn’t know if I was selfless enough to stand by and watch that happen.
“That’s it,” I growled to myself, getting off the bed. I wasn’t playing this game anymore. I laced up my boots, then stalked down to the third floor. I’d take the lass in my arms and give her the comfort that she needed. And then I would tell her how I felt. I owed that much to her—hell, I owed it to myself. I couldn’t just let her slip through my fingers like this.
But when I pushed the curtain around Jax’s bed aside, there was nobody sitting in the chair beside her. There was only Jax, lying unconscious in the hospital bed, the monitor giving off that steady beep, beep, beep.
“Maybe she’s gone to the loo,” I muttered, approaching the bedside. But the seat of the chair was cold to the touch, not even a hint of bodily warmth to be found. If Arabella had ever sat here, it was at least half an hour ago. Where the bloody hell had she gone?
“Arabella!” Jax shot straight up in bed, and the monitor began to go haywire. Her eyes were wide with fear, and they latched onto me like a lifeline. Orderlies rushed in, but she fought them as they tried to press her back against the mattress. “Brodie, you have to go save Arabella!”
“Where is she?” I demanded, choosing not to question her. “Where!”
“Lucas kidnapped her mother. Arabella’s on her way to an address in Culver City, and if you don’t get there now, she’s going to walk straight into whatever trap he’s set for her.”
27
Arabella
Naturally, the address Lucas directed me to was a small warehouse at the end of an even smaller road, off the beaten path and nowhere near any foot traffic. My demon sense went off the moment we turned down the road—there were at least ten of them down there, and my brand instantly began to burn in response. It was all I could do not to summon my bow the moment I exited the car, but I knew if I did that, my mother would never walk free.
And she had to walk free. No matter what, I couldn’t let her be hurt. She’d already suffered enough because of my actions.
Squaring my shoulders, I stalked past the wire fence and straight up to the two Possessed flanking the entrance. I didn’t see any of the others, but I knew they were about—their unholy energy made my skin crawl. “You know who I am, and why I’m here,” I growled. “Let me pass.”
The men smirked, revealing sharp fangs, but they opened the door.
“Lucas!” I called, stepping across the threshold. “I want my—”
My body froze, as if glued to the floor.
“Hello, darling.” Lucas stepped out of a shadow, a satisfied smirk on his handsome face. “So glad you could make it. You’re just in time for the main event.”
My eyes widened as I scanned the room. It was a square space, with rectangular windows set horizontally on the upper edges of the far walls. Light filtered in through the cracked, dirty glass, illuminating the pentagram drawn onto the floor with black chalk. It was large enough for a person to lay down in, and at each of the points, blood-red candles were set. The room smelled strongly of incense, coming from one of several small burners set on a nearby table. And in the corner, tied to a chair, was my mother.
“Mom!” Relief and anger surged in my chest all at once—she was unharmed, but her beautiful face was ashen, and the restraints looked painfully tight. I tried to rush over to her, but my body wouldn’t move. “What the fuck?” I snapped, turning my gaze back to Lucas. “What the hell have you done to me?”
“You’ve been snared by my trap,” Lucas said, gesturing around the room. It was then that I noticed strange runes painted along the edges of the floor in something that looked very much like blood. “All I needed to do was to get you to agree to come here willingly. By doing so, you’ve given up autonomy of your body to me. Now I can command you freely, so long as you are within these walls.” He snapped his fingers. “Stand in the center of the pentagram.”
“Like hell I will!” But to my horror, my body began to obey the command. I tried to struggle, but it was no use—my arms and legs moved of their own accord. No, of Lucas’s accord, I amended angrily as I walked past the candles and stood in the center of the circle.