Hunted (The Guardian Legacy, #3)

by Ednah Walters

  “I don’t know, but she woke up faster this time.” Bran squeezed my shoulders and asked, “Do you want me to get you a wet cloth?”

  “No, I’ll get it.” I got up and staggered to the bathroom, Bran following me as though I’d collapse or something. At least he stayed by the doorway as I splashed water on my face. Then I stared in horror at my reflection in the mirror.

  Three straight nights without sleep, four if I didn’t catch some shut-eye during what was left of tonight, had turned me into the girl from The Grudge. Dark shadows clung to my eyes. My hair was wild and untamed. My usually glowing skin looked pasty and grey. I needed uninterrupted REM cycles.

  The nightmares had started on Saturday, the night the demons had attacked me. Grampa and Bran had teleported into my bedroom at the same time, both thinking I was being attacked. Though I’d like to think I wouldn’t scream like a demon on its way to Tartarus. We Guardians were tougher than that.

  Grampa had left after Bran reassured him he’d stay until I fell asleep. And he had. The night after, he hadn’t left after I woke up screaming again. Just as well. Immediately after I’d fallen asleep, the dreams had started again.

  It was terrible fighting what you couldn’t see, being surrounded by a dense fog while lightning speared the air around you. Then there was the carnage, the cacophony of sounds. Shrill, brain-numbing, ear-piercing screams.

  By the third night, Bran hadn’t even bothered going home. Grampa never slept. He came and went during the night, so I knew he was aware of our new sleeping arrangement. That he didn’t say anything said just how worried he was.

  Voices came from bedroom and I realized Bran had disappeared from the doorway. They were talking in low tones, but I heard them anyway.

  “I don’t like it,” Grampa was saying. “Maybe a long break might be better.”

  Don’t like what? I angled my head to catch more.

  “She has shadows under her eyes and looks so fragile,” Grampa continued.

  “You shouldn’t ask her to stop, Cardinal. The only times she doesn’t feel the pain is when she trains,” Bran said.

  How dare they discuss me? I opened my mouth to protest and closed it without speaking. Lack of sleep was making me cranky. I splashed more water on my face, then dried off.

  “What does Master Haziel say?” Grampa asked, his voice fainter. “He and I haven’t spoken since he started the new regimen.”

  “He wants her to control the powers and pushes her hard, but she likes that, which is very unlike her. It’s like she craves it. She and I train between group lessons, too.”

  “Interesting,” Grampa mumbled. “I wonder if the adrenaline rush helps her block the pain.”

  “Endorphins,” Bran corrected.

  Endorphins? When his energy soothed mine, it eased my headaches. Making out worked wonders, too. If they were talking chemicals, I’d vote for dopamine. I derived some pleasure from training with him. He was a better fighter than me, but because of my new powers I’d acquired more stamina and went toe to toe with him. Izzy called it foreplay. Too bad it never led to anything.

  Walking back to my bedroom, I waved my hand and turned off the bedside lamp, then slipped under the blanket. Sleep wasn’t going to come easily. I turned my head and buried it in a pillow. It had the woodsy scent Bran favored. I smiled, but that soon changed to a scowl.

  Why was I having these nightmares? Were they residual memories from the attack, or something the dagger’s powers induced? Considering how many demons it had killed over the millennia, there was no telling what was stored in the writings that usually covered the dagger’s blade. All I knew was that they were somehow connected to the powers of the dagger.

  “You still haven’t found Gavyn, Cardinal?” Bran asked.

  Grampa and Bran’s voice grew stronger or maybe hearing Gavyn’s name pulled me out of my funk. If there was a demon I wanted to hurt, it was Nitwit Gavyn.

  “I’m afraid not. Without him, tracking down the Summoners is impossible.”

  “You should let us give it a try, Cardinal. I know you said you didn’t want us out there, but—”

  “I still don’t. As long as the Tribe is on the loose, waiting to catch you young ones unaware, I want all of you inside the valley.”

  “What if I went alone? I work faster and I promise to be discreet. Gavyn is also more likely to come out of hiding when he hears I’m looking for him without the Guardians.”

  I held my breath as I waited for Grampa’s verdict. He wouldn’t dare let Bran go. Surely, he couldn’t be that desperate.

  “I’ll discuss it with the Cardinals and Master Haziel.”

  Unbelievable. I jumped out of bed. “What is there to discuss, Grampa?”

  “Lil—”

  “He’s not going out there, period. What are you trying to do? Use him as bait?” Grampa closed the gap between us as I continued. “If you haven’t noticed, the Tribe only comes out to play when we are out there. They don’t want you. They want us. Maybe it’s Bran they are after. Or maybe it’s…me.” My voice broke just as he pulled me into his arms.

  Grampa didn’t speak. He held me as I cried, something I’d avoided doing since the attack. Lack of sleep had reduced me to a whining ninny. Of course he would never use Bran as bait. Grampa had integrity. He was likely to use himself first before sending anyone else.

  He leaned back and studied my face.

  I swiped my cheek and gave him an uncertain smile. “I’m sorry. I’m exhausted and not thinking straight. You’d never do something so despicable.”

  He smiled and kissed my forehead. “No, I wouldn’t. So? How are you feeling?”

  “Like Tartarus swallowed me whole then spit me out.”

  He chuckled. “What do you remember of your dreams?”

  I frowned. “Why? Do you think there’s a reason I’m having them?”

  “I don’t know, sweetheart. The Psi-dar didn’t give us anything to work with.” He let go of me and pushed his hands inside his coat, making me realize he was dressed for hunting. He must have either just arrived home or was about to leave when I screamed. “I’m trying to understand what is happening to you.”

  That made two of us. “The fog appeared out of nowhere, then the lightning and the sounds.”

  “And the woman’s voice?” Grampa asked.

  “I still can’t understand what she says. The sounds and the screams always swallow her words.”

  He touched my clammy forehead. “I don’t know what is going on, but you can’t go on like this forever. Bran says training is good for you, but—”

  “No,” I protested. “I need to train. It burns off the excess energy.”

  Grampa sighed. “Okay. We’re going to have a joint conference of High Council members and senior Cardinals from all the sectors starting tomorrow, to discuss our next move. The High Council members love wasting time listing useless diplomatic solutions where a pre-emptive strike is needed. I will be in and out as usual, just not as often. Will you be okay?”

  I nodded, then a thought occurred to me. What if they were attacked during the meeting? The attack by the nature-benders had decimated the Guardians. Having the High Council and senior Cardinals in one place could be disastrous if the Tribe attacked them.

  “Where are you meeting?” I asked.

  “Rio, headquarters of the Southwest Sector.” He pulled out a pocket watch from his coat pocket and glanced at it. “It starts in exactly twenty minutes. It might be 5 a.m. here, but it is eight in Brazil. Since I’m opening the meeting, I think I’d better head out.”

  “Could you change venues every few hours?” I asked.

  Grampa frowned. “We could. Why?”

  “All those psi energies in one place are bound to draw attention and make you guys sitting targets.”

  “Sweetheart, every High Council has an impenetrable security created by its Psi-dar,” he reminded. “No demon can breach it.”

  “Yet the Tribe found us in Bermuda despite the high-securi
ty shield,” I said.

  “She has a point, Cardinal,” Bran added, coming to stand by my side. “The Tribe might not have known the exact location of the island, but they were drawn to our combined psi energies. I think you should do as she suggested.”

  Grampa’s frowned deepened then he palmed my face and pressed his lips to my temple. He reached out and gripped Bran’s shoulder and nodded. “I think we’ll do just that. Now try to rest. Both of you. Help her go to sleep.”

  “Of course, Cardinal.”

  Grampa patted my cheek then teleported. I glanced at Bran. “What did he mean by help me go to sleep?”

  “He knows that my presence calms you down.”

  Ah, the curse of having a powerful Psi as a grandfather. Nothing ever escaped him. Bet he’d know when I finally lost my virginity. I cringed at the thought. Or maybe now that I was a stronger Psi, I could compel him not to read me. I turned and eyed Bran. Maybe I should practice on him. We had two hours before the training session with Master Haziel.

  I took Bran’s hands in mine and looked into his emerald eyes. You must do my bidding without questioning me.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, scowling.

  Compelling you to do my wish. Come with me.

  He chuckled, dimples flashing. “Nice try. Do you want to head to the pit for an early workout?”

  “How come I can’t compel you?”

  Bran tapped my head. “I hear your thoughts, Sunshine. And the calculating gleam in your eyes told me you were up to no good before you spoke. Come on, change into your gym clothes and meet me at the pit in three minutes.”

  I pouted. “You are no fun.”

  “I don’t mind being your guinea pig, just not now. Training will get your mind off seducing me. Not that you need to. The first person at the pit gets to choose the first weapon,” he added, then teleported.

  I made a face. Lack of sleep might make me cranky as a hellhound, but he wasn’t beating me.

  Being able to see psi energies had its perks. I noted that Bran wasn’t in the pit before I materialized. Although lights were on in the Academy’s rotunda, the pit was in total darkness. I willed the light crystals to turn on as soon as I arrived.

  I was choosing a wooden staff when Bran arrived.

  “I won,” I said with glee.

  “I should have insisted on proper dress code,” he said, staring at my feet.

  I glanced down and grimaced. We all had several pairs of lightweight leather martial arts shoes, in black or black and red, for use in the pit. He wore all black. Mine didn’t match.

  “Nitpicking, sore loser.” I threw one stick to him.

  He caught it and rotated it while moving, already anticipating an attack. “We’ll see about that.”

  “After the sticks, we’ll use knives then swords.”

  “Bloodthirsty this morning, aren’t you?” He teased, circling me slowly, knees bent and feet angled away from each other for stability, eyes on me. While I held the long staff with two hands, knuckles up, he rotated his in one hand.

  “Scared?” I asked.

  “Shaking in my shoes.” He rushed me.

  Ducking, I blocked, twisted my stick and disengaged it from under his and attacked, aiming for his feet. He teleported out of the way and appeared behind me, but I’d anticipated his move. I turned and knocked the staff from his hand.

  He caught it and cocked his right eyebrow. “Very good.”

  “I know.”

  Next time around, I wasn’t so lucky. He had me on my back in five moves.

  “Stop goofing around,” he scolded, offering me his hand. “Don’t ever let me get inside your head and anticipate your next move.”

  I hated it when he talked to me in that superior tone. Ignoring his hand, I teleported to my feet and swung, aiming for his ribs. He blocked, shifted his weight and leveled a kick at my exposed side. I ducked and jumped back. Anchoring the stick down on one end, I swung on it and caught him in the chest with both feet. He staggered backward and grinned.

  “Could be better,” he said.

  There was no pleasing him, so I pushed harder. There was no more talking as we tried to outmaneuver each other with moves and counter-moves, the sounds of wood hitting wood echoing in the pit. Adrenaline pumped in my veins and euphoria buzzed through me. Soon we were both breathing hard and sweating.

  We stopped for a water break and a change of weapons. Bran’s gaze shot to mine as he reached out to take his dagger from my hand. I had kicked his butt in the last round.

  “Don’t worry,” I said. “I promise to go easy on you this time.”

  Smirking, he took the dagger and flipped it around. The blade gleamed as it whipped in the light. He flung it in the air, then grabbed it backhand and lunged for me, the blade directed at my throat. I batted his arm away and surged toward him.

  He used my weight and threw me over his head, but I teleported and reappeared on his side. He was waiting for me and I barely managed to block his attack. Another bout of strikes and counterstrikes followed and it seemed like forever before I tackled him and had him at a disadvantage. I loomed over him, my pulse quickening.

  “You are enjoying this?” he said.

  “Oh, you have no idea.” I pressed the edge of the blade to his skin, loving the way his eyes widened. I could never hurt him and he knew it. Still… I nicked him. He sucked in a breath.

  “You’re playing with fire,” he warned in a voice gone suddenly husky.

  Heat pooled like warm honey low in my belly as I responded. “What are you going to do about it?”

  He grinned.

  “This.” His free arm looped around me and pulled me on top of him. Eye locked with mine, one hand skated along my arm while the other reached for my face. He pried the dagger from my hand before I realized his intention, then he pressed both blades against my neck. “You are dead.”

  “You don’t play fair,” I protested.

  “You lost focus.”

  “You cheated.” Giving him an annoyed look, I jumped up and went to get swords. I handed him one and willed a second one from the wall. Using a move Master Haziel had taught me, I focused on the powers inside me, willing them to move.

  Heat shot from my lower back, up my spine and spread through my core. The ancient words raced to my hands, making them tingle. I grinned. We’d practiced controlling the Kris Dagger’s powers, but I didn’t know I could bring the powers forth without being attacked.

  “How was that?” Bran asked.

  “Effortless.” I removed wet strands of hair from my sweaty forehead. “Should I be worried? I don’t want to get comfortable with them.”

  “I’m sure the headaches will continue to remind you they don’t belong inside you. Ready?” He attacked.

  We moved across the floor, thrusting, cutting, and parrying. Bran was a better swordsman, and he didn’t cut me any slack. He pushed me hard, landing blows several times when I messed up, but I got him several times too. Luckily, the carbon steel training swords didn’t have sharpened edges despite having the balance and weight of real swords.

  “Slowing down your teleport has made you a better fighter,” he said during another water break.

  “Praise from the master, yippee.”

  He rolled his eyes and looked at his watch. “It’s six-fifty. Do you want to stop or move to hand-to-hand combat?”

  Gutter fighting involved lots of body contact, which was both exciting and frustrating, because he distracted me way too easily. Not needing another lecture on self-control, I plopped down on one of the mat and stared at the crystals on the ceiling.

  “Nope. I’m done,” I declared

  He squatted beside me. “Come on.”

  “No,” I said with a pout, then saw Master Haziel near the entrance. How long had he been watching us? “We have an audience.”

  Bran followed my gaze, got to his feet and wished the trainer good morning.

  “You could not sleep again?” His ancient face scrunched up wi
th concern as he studied me.

  I nodded. His scowl deepened.

  “I wanted you to try something different this morning, but it can wait. Go home and rest.” He glanced at Bran. “Stay behind.”

  “But I’m not tired,” I protested.

  “You look tired, and your responses a few minutes ago were slower,” Master Haziel said. “Have you had time to read the book I gave you?” he asked pointedly.

  “Uh, yeah. I’m out of here.” I jumped to my feet and teleported.

  After a shower and breakfast, I curled up on my bed with the book on the Goddess. Boring couldn’t begin to describe it. Half the book was things I already knew. My eyelids grew heavy. I must have dozed off because the sound of my cell phone woke me up. The clock said it was quarter to nine and the streetlight fell into my room through the window. My stomach growled.

  I’d slept the day away without having a nightmare. A quick scan told me Bran wasn’t in the valley, but Grampa and the Cardinals were at HQ. They weren’t alone, which meant they were still having the conference. Izzy and Kim were at the guys’ house.

  I picked up my cell phone and chuckled at the text message from Kylie. She had an emergency and needed my help. I texted her back, promising to be at her place in a few minutes.

  I got dressed and checked my cell phone again. Kylie hadn’t texted me back, so I slipped the phone in my pocket and headed to the kitchen for food. I chewed on an apple as I warmed leftover lasagna. I hated eating alone. Usually, I ate with Bran. Where was he?

  I checked in with the others as I ate. What are you guys doing?

  Talking Guardian business, Remy said. Happy you are awake. Now get here ASAP, and bring Bran. We need his input.

  Guardians business always came first. Kylie would have to wait. Bran is not in the valley.

  Then join us, Sykes added. We stopped by your place twice, but you were asleep. You looked cute, Red. No drool or anything.

  You watched me sleep? I screeched

  Just for a few minutes. You don’t snore, just in case you were wondering, he teased.