Waltz into Fire (The Sentinals Book 1)

by L. J. Garland

  She closed her eyes, let her hands fall to her sides. The tingling at her wrists intensified and traveled down into her hands. It seemed innumerable wasps swarmed over her fingers, hot stingers piercing her skin.

  Defend….

  Fallon’s mind buzzed. Defend? What an odd word.

  Defend! demanded the raspy voice.

  Her hands seemed to swell, a thousand razor blades slicing her fingertips. Oxygen and scorching heat gathered—she could see it, sense it boiling beneath her skin, yearning to be released. Letting instinct guide her, she fisted one hand, allowing the energy whorl and tighten. She forced her leaden arm to rise and opened her eyes.

  The demon stared at her, anticipation gleaming in his crimson pupils.

  Fallon uncurled her fingers and gave the searing energy freedom. An electric flash shot up her spine and down her arm, triggering a ball of fire to erupt from her palm. The molten orb shot across the alley, slamming against the beast’s chest. High-pitched whistles crested the night, and metallic scales zinged through the air—one slicing her cheek.

  The garrote at her throat vanished, and Fallon fell to the ground, her knees driving into the gravel.

  Live… the voice crackled in her ears.

  She sucked in air only to choke and cough. Her body pulsed, drinking in much-needed oxygen.

  The granite aggregate crunched beneath heavy footsteps with the demon’s approach. The beast knelt next to her, and she wanted to scramble away, but oxygen deprivation had left her immobile as though a layer of concrete suffused her muscles. She couldn’t even tremble with the fear that raged through her.

  “A Sentinel with fire?” He reached out a talon to brush her hair from her eyes. “I was going to end your miserable existence, Fallon Anderson, but now I think not. Not yet.”

  Fallon balled her fist, willed her breath to mix with the heat racing down her arm. She raised her hand to him. “Fuck you.”

  Another electric shock pulsed up her spine to release the molten fireball from her palm. But the demon was too close. With arrogant ease, he slapped her wrist, redirecting her attack. The missile streaked toward Zane, singeing his shoulder before crashing into the wall behind him. Bricks and mortar exploded into the air, leaving a hole the size of a truck tire.

  The demon grinned. “Yes. And I will fuck you, too.” He rose, brushed his hands against his knees then toed Fallon onto her back, his gaze raking from her feet to her crown. “Yes. This will be quite enjoyable.”

  He pivoted away, and Fallon wished desperately she had another fireball to hurl into his scaly ass, but she was exhausted. She wasn’t even sure she could conjure another.

  The demon paused next to Zane, who’d stopped yelling and lay panting on his side. “Enjoy fucking the Sentinel bitch. Just make sure you get her home to me on time like you promised. Eleven days, Zane, and you hand her over. Eleven days.” A nasty grin warped his face. “Or there’ll be hell to pay.”

  The beast tilted his face toward the stars above, breathed deep, and exploded into a whirlwind of ash and smoke. A moment later, the eruption dissipated, and the ash dissolved into nothingness.

  Fallon shoved to her hands and knees and crawled to the restaurant wall, which she used to push herself up onto shaky knees. She scanned the area, her body trembling while she gulped in much-needed air. Other than the hole in the wall, nothing looked amiss. No one would ever know what really happened out here.

  “Fallon,” Zane moaned.

  Her gaze shot to him, fear running anew along her limbs. The tattoo. The demon’s explanation. The fire from her palm. Zane’s sweet kisses and hateful words.

  “Fallon.” He shifted on the ground, held his hand out to her. “You okay?”

  She scuttled along the wall and managed to jerk the heavy metal door open. Inside, the hearty kitchen lights and familiar surroundings beckoned her. But, instead, she clutched the doorknob and paused in her escape. She glared down at the man she’d trusted, the man who’d conned her heart. She’d be damned if she’d let him steal her soul, too.

  “You stay away from me.” Not waiting for a response, she ducked into the Engine House and locked the door behind her.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Zane rolled onto his back and stared up into the night sky. What the hell just happened? More confused than ever, he replayed the events of the last few minutes over in his mind. He hadn’t stood a chance in hell against that thing. It had tossed him aside and incapacitated him with only the flick of a hand.

  He glanced toward the restaurant door. The demon also knew Fallon’s story. The beast had called her a Sentinel—the same name she’d told Zane in the kitchen when she’d shared the contents of her deceased aunt’s letter along with everything else that had happened in Maine. And then the damn fiend had filled her full of a bunch of crap to undermine their relationship—as if he hadn’t already done a great job of it himself. Calling him a lesser demon had hammered the final nail in his coffin. He gritted his teeth at the memory of the look in her eyes when she’d retreated into the restaurant. Pure fear.

  Shit, Zane knew the truth. But after listening to the tale the demon just weaved, his own mother would doubt him. How the hell was he supposed to get Fallon to hear him out, much less trust him?

  Rolling to his side, he used his good arm to push himself off the gravel and stand. Leaning against the wall, he closed his eyes, willing the ground to stop moving beneath his feet. If he planned to fight that thing, he needed to come up with a better approach than he’d done this time. A wet dishrag stood more of a chance.

  The throbbing in his arm and shoulder had subsided somewhat, but the jackhammer inside his head still pounded strong.

  Fallon.

  Damn, but she’d been awesome. She’d actually defended him, been worried about him, before the demon had told its twisted tale. How was he supposed to convince her the beast had lied? How was he supposed to regain her trust after everything that had happened?

  How did he tell her that, after just a few days, he’d fallen in love with her?

  He eased along the wall toward the kitchen entry. Yeah, the door would be locked—she’d turned the deadbolt, the sound of the steel shaft slamming home echoing with finality. But still, he reached for the knob and, twisting, found resistance. He laid his forehead on the cool metal door.

  “Fallon,” he called out, but only a chorus of cicadas answered. Damn.

  Pushing away from the building, he stumbled to the front and peered through a window. Several lights glowed bright, but he couldn’t spot her inside.

  Worry coiled in his stomach. Before she’d escaped inside, she’d appeared exhausted, her face pale. Had she managed to get upstairs to her bed, or had she passed out on the floor?

  Shuffling to the entry, he banged on the door. “Fallon! Are you okay?”

  The sound of something metallic crashing to the floor filtered through the glass panes. Panic jolted through him.

  “Fallon?”

  “Go away!” she yelled.

  He laid his palm to the door, wishing he could touch her. Would he ever hold her in his arms again?

  Something else clattered inside, and Fallon’s irritated voice rang out. “Shit.”

  “You okay?”

  “Just go the hell away, Zane!”

  With a resigned sigh, he shoved back from the door and crossed the parking lot to his Jeep. The driver side door hung open, and the keys remained in the ignition where he’d left them. God, he’d planned to abandon her, to just pick up and leave town without a word. But that had been when he’d believed he’d brought evil to her doorstep. Now, he knew better. The demon had plans for both of them.

  Wincing against the pain in his shoulder, he turned on the dome light and examined his tattoo. Damn, that thing had burned like acid. But now, only a faint redness shadowed the edge of the circle. His T-shirt was toast, though. The top part of the sleeve had burned off. He was surprised the whole shirt hadn’t caught fire.

  Easing the seat bac
k a notch, he stared at the Engine House. How the hell was he going to win her trust? He wished he could catch a glimpse of her walking around inside just so he’d know she was all right. But all was quiet, and nothing moved. He laid his head on the seat rest, keeping watch.

  At the sound of crunching gravel, Zane jolted upright. He blinked several times, trying to clear the fuzz from his brain. Damn, he must have fallen asleep. He looked out the window to find a nondescript sedan pulling up in front of the restaurant. A quick glance at his watch told him it was five in the morning. Too early for customers. So, who was in the car?

  A tall guy with short, dark hair stepped out of the vehicle and paused, eyeballing the restaurant. Zane sat up. Did he plan to rob the place? Damn, if he did, the son of a bitch was in for a surprise. Between Zane’s fists and Fallon’s fireballs, he would be one sorry bastard.

  The guy approached the entrance and knocked. A moment later, the door swung open, and Fallon rushed out, launching herself into his arms, and buried her face against his neck. The guy held her close, stroking her hair.

  What the hell?

  When the two separated, the smile on Fallon’s mouth sent a jagged knife through Zane’s heart. Damn. She knew the guy. Had probably called him. But Zane had never seen him before. So, who was he?

  He glared at the guy who trailed Fallon into the restaurant. Anger balled inside him at the shit-eating grin smeared across the jerk-off’s face. As the door eased closed behind them, he realized whom she must have called.

  Jared.

  Zane gritted his teeth, pissed at himself for all but driving her back into her cheating ex’s arms. He shoved open the Jeep door and slammed it behind him. No way in hell he’d let that asshole touch her. No fucking way.

  Rage pumped through him as he strode across the parking lot, the sharp crunch of gravel popping the air with each hell-bent step. He jerked the front door open and followed them inside. Faltering in the entryway, he swallowed down the pain of seeing them together.

  Fallon still held his hand, her fingers twined with his. She smiled up at him, her gaze adoring. They stood huddled together, their body language screaming intimacy. If he’d walked in sixty seconds later, Zane had no doubt he would have found them kissing.

  “Get away from her!” Zane demanded. Pure unadulterated jealousy roared through him.

  Fallon’s gaze shot toward him, and she frowned. “Zane, I told you to go away.”

  He moved closer, sizing the guy up, searching for weak points. “I know, but I’m not about to let this asshole hurt you again.”

  The jerk grimaced, his body tensing, and Zane balled his hands. The guy thought he could just waltz in here and pick up where he’d left off? Screw that. He’d kill anyone who tried to harm Fallon.

  The bastard stepped toward him, but she held her arm out, blocking him. Leveling her gaze on Zane, she crossed the room in a rush. Before he could blink, she reared back and swung, the flat of her hand connecting with his face hard with a resounding smack.

  “Who the hell are you?” she screamed.

  Pain shot through his jaw, and his gaze flicked to Jared then shifted back to Fallon. In a subdued voice, he said, “I’ll tell you everything. Just please hear me out.”

  She snorted, but the sound held no laughter. “If you’re what that demon said you are, I should kill you right now, not let you talk.” She jerked her hand out to the side, her eyes widening at the fireball hovering over her palm. Then her mouth thinned to a grim line, and she gave him a menacing stare.

  From behind her, the ex-boyfriend stared with concern. “Fallon, w-what are you doing?”

  Zane took a step back but did nothing to protect himself. He glared over her shoulder. “This is none of your business, asshole. Take a hike.” Shifting his attention to the woman he loved, he forged ahead, intent on making her understand. “Fallon, I swear to you I am not what he said, although I suspect the eventual fate the demon laid out for me isn’t far from the truth.”

  “A demon?” Shock coated Jared’s words. “He’s a demon?”

  “No!” Zane gave the guy a pointed stare. “I am not a demon.” Just how much had she told him?

  “I trusted you.” The fireball undulated above her hand, an orb of scorching lava waiting to be launched. “I let you in, told you things I’ve never admitted to anyone before. When I confessed the truth to you about my aunt and family, you turned around and threw it in my face. Why? Were you afraid I’d see through to what you really were?”

  He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I swear I didn’t want to hurt you like that. I thought I had no choice. I thought that thing was after you because of me, and getting out of your life and as far away as I could get from you was what would keep you safe.”

  The fireball swelled. “Oh my God! So you did know it was here and after me?” She drew her arm back, aiming the fiery mass at him. “You are with him.”

  “No! I’m not. Please, just let me explain.”

  He reached out for her, but she recoiled and let loose, the fireball slamming into his chest. The powerful blast knocked him into the wall, pain exploding through his body. Flames ignited his shirt and ate away at his flesh.

  “Shit!” Jared bolted across the room, jerked a curtain from the rod, and attempted to snuff out the fire. Instead, the curtain burst into flames, and the ex stumbled backward.

  Zane’s chest burned, his lungs constricting, leaving him unable to draw breath. He was going to die, and Fallon had no clue how he felt about her.

  “Stop,” she screamed, and the flames that engulfed his chest withdrew, dissipating into the air, taking the burning pain with it. Fallon rushed to his side and knelt. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I can’t control that shit yet, and you scared me.” She peeled what remained of his shirt away and gasped. Turning her focus to Jared, she said, “Help me get him to the kitchen.”

  They each took an arm, lifted him to his feet, and guided him from the dining room. Jared helped him onto the preparation table while Fallon scurried around, grabbing towels and a medical kit. At least she didn’t seem so weak, didn’t look as pale as she had last night after she’d fought the demon.

  Jared moved behind him and eased the remnants of Zane’s shirt from his shoulders. A minute ago, he’d wanted to pound the guy, but since the asshole had tried to smother the fire engulfing Zane’s chest, he’d give him a break. For the moment, anyway.

  He glanced down at his chest, and surprise shot through him. His skin wasn’t charred. After the fire that had consumed him and the pain he’d endured, he’d been sure he would need to go to the hospital.

  Fallon returned to the table and placed what she’d gathered next to him. She eyed his reddened skin. “It’s not as bad as I thought it’d be.”

  “The sear from the burn stopped as soon as you yelled.” He ran his fingertips over the injured area, noting a few threads from his shirt still stuck to his skin. “Going to have one hell of a bruise though.”

  She frowned. “Why didn’t you do anything to stop me?”

  He stared at her, forcing her gaze to meet his. “Like what, Fallon? I told you, I’m not like him. I don’t have any powers. I’m just a man.”

  Tears welled in her eyes, and she looked away. Reaching for a gauze pad and antiseptic, she whispered, “You have more power than you know.”

  He lifted his hand, cupped her chin. “Please let me explain. It’s a huge mess, and once you’ve heard it all, maybe you’ll understand why I’ve done the things I have.”

  She jerked away from his touch.

  He sighed, wishing he could get through to her. “You don’t have to do this. I can clean and dress the wound myself.”

  “Yes, I do.” She grabbed a pair of tweezers from the kit and plucked out bits of his shirt that had fused with his skin. Her brow furrowed. “I lost control. I didn’t mean to hurt you like this.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  Pivoting away, she strode to the sink. After tossing the shirt in the trash,
Jared moved to the end of the table.

  “So let me get this straight. There’re two demons?”

  Zane clenched his jaw. The guy was seriously starting to piss him off. He swung his head toward Jared. “Look, Fallon and I are in the middle of something here. Leave.”

  The guy glared at Zane, a corner of his mouth lifting. “Anything you have to say to Fallon, you can say to me.”

  Rage tore through Zane. Damn if the arrogant asshole wasn’t asking for it. He tensed, preparing to pound the guy, but Fallon stepped in front of him, placing some pills and a glass of water into his hands.

  “It’s only ibuprofen, but it should ease the pain a little bit.”

  He downed the pills. “Thanks.” If he had a hope in all creation of regaining her trust, Jared had to go. Tilting his head, he frowned at the ex-boyfriend. “Look, I don’t know what your deal is, and I really don’t give a rat’s fat ass. You’re interrupting a private moment, so back off. Now.”

  “Enough. Both of you.” Fallon angled so she could see the two of them at once. “Zane, this is my brother, Erik. I told you about him. Erik, this is Zane, a…friend.”

  “Brother?” Not Jared? Oh, shit.

  “Yeah, brother,” Erik said. “So you wanna tell me what’s going on and why my sister is so freaked out?”

  He sighed. Now that he looked closer, he could see they had the same black hair, the same gold eyes. Damn, he’d miscalculated the situation. “Long story.”

  “Sure.” Erik gripped the edges of the table, leaned toward him, and lifted an eyebrow. “So, you a demon or what?”

  “No.” The adrenaline that had kept him from passing out vanished, and he hunched his shoulders, a twinge of pain searing his nerves with the movement. Thank God the burn wasn’t even a first degree. He didn’t relish the thought of leaving Fallon alone while he ended up at the hospital burn unit. “But we were attacked by one.”

  He rounded toward Fallon. “Shit! I knew something was wrong. I had this overpowering feeling that you were in trouble. I’ve never felt anything like it before, which is why, instead of taking that last connector flight home, I got a ticket for the first available plane here.” He pounded his fist on the table. “I should’ve been here sooner.”