The Gateway Trilogy: Complete Series: (Books 1-3)

by Christina Garner

  The tall boy who had won the sword fight approached us. He had blue eyes and a dimple in his left cheek. “Hey, Kat. What did you think of my moves out there?”

  “Pretty good, Tom. Congrats on the win.” She leaned in close to his ear. “You still can't beat me, though.” She pulled back with a wink.

  “We'll see about that,” he said, smirking. “Who are your new friends?”

  “This is Callie, and that's Ember. Keepers in training, fresh off the boat.”

  “Two at once? Impressive. Maybe we're finally starting to turn our numbers around.” Tom shook each of our hands. “Welcome. We're happy you're here.”

  Kat excused herself and started up the hill toward the mansion. I’d been right—the Gateway was up there. A Gateway that led to a world overrun by demons. Housed in a mansion overlooking Los Angeles.

  Kinda makes sense.

  Tom joined us on the walk back to the dorm.

  “Are you two all settled in?” he asked.

  I wasn't sure how to answer. Could I tell him that all I had were the clothes on my back because we’d left Windsor in such a hurry? I wasn't supposed to mention the demon or even the attack that had forced us to flee.

  It was Callie who answered. “Yeah, although I haven't met my roommates yet. I hope they like me.”

  I let the newly-chatty Callie do most of the talking, preferring to remain silent for fear of revealing something I shouldn't. When we reached the dormitory, Tom excused himself to clean up.

  The living room was now bustling with teenagers. Some sat watching a crap reality show on television, some were reading, and others just passed through, talking with friends.

  “I'm going to go see if anyone is in my room,” Callie said. “I'll save you a seat at dinner, OK?”

  I nodded. “Sure, sounds good.”

  She bounded down the hall as I looked around, feeling awkward and alone. I wasn't the type to just start introducing myself to strangers. I made my way down the hall and trudged up the stairs. Female voices drifted my way, but I couldn't make myself stick my head into one of their doorways. I opened the door to my room and was relieved when it clicked shut behind me.

  At least if I was actually alone it wasn't odd that I felt so lonely. I leaned against the door and studied the room, then went to the wardrobe. On the inside of one door was a mirror, and the other held hooks, a bathrobe hanging from one. I glanced down to see a duffel bag, recognizing it as the one I'd had at Windsor. I unzipped it to find the clothes and toiletries my mother had packed for my stay there. Someone must have picked it up for me. They certainly moved fast around here. It only took a few minutes to organize my scant belongings, but I was grateful for them.

  I sat on the bed, contemplating a nap, but was too restless. Instead I went to the desk, opening the drawers to reveal notepads and pens. I took out one of each, meaning to write, but I hesitated.

  The door to my room didn't lock. Was it safe for me to journal my innermost thoughts? I didn't want to think anyone would read them, but how could I be sure? While I contemplated, I doodled, and when I looked down, was horrified to see I'd been drawing parts of the symbol. I had to learn not to do that. I'd been sketching it for so long that it had become just something I did naturally while I thought. I crumpled up the paper, then thought better and ripped it into several pieces. I couldn't take chances on someone going through my trash and wondering how I knew those symbols. My level of paranoia was entering Mom territory.

  Afraid to do much of anything else, I settled for staring out the window at people milling about on the grass. I knew that I was supposed to feel like I belonged here, but how could I? Annys and Master Dogan weren't even sure what I was. In an institute filled with freaks, I was too abnormal to truly be one of them. Here I was, still having to lie in order to fit in.

  I glanced at the clock. More time had passed than I'd realized. I pulled a lightweight jacket from the wardrobe and made my way downstairs for dinner, avoiding eye contact with anyone until I saw Callie in line. She motioned for me to join her.

  “Ember, meet two of my roommates. This is Crystle and Bridget.”

  Crystle was blonde, her curves and beauty reminiscent of Anna Nicole Smith, while Bridget had the look of an athlete, her muscles toned, her brown hair cropped short.

  “Hey, nice to meet you,” I said, relieved to have two more familiar faces.

  “What room did they put you in?” Bridget asked as she scooped steamed vegetables onto her plate.

  I took the serving spoon when she was done and helped myself. “Thirty-six.”

  “They put you on the third floor?” Her eyebrows knitted in confusion.

  “Um, yeah. They said it was because I'm almost seventeen. I got found late.”

  “Really late,” Bridget said with surprise. “How have you kept it together? When they found me at fourteen, I was practically feral.”

  I struggled for an adequate answer and failed. “Just lucky, I guess.”

  Crystle's eyes narrowed. “I'm sixteen and I still have to share a room.”

  This conversation was filled with land mines. Maybe I should have skipped dinner.

  “That's because you haven't tested past your first year,” Bridget said with a laugh.

  “Well, neither has she,” Crystle protested.

  “Oh, don't be salty. It's not her fault she got her own room. Who knows why the Elders do what they do?”

  Bridget was fast becoming my new favorite person.

  “I can't argue with that,” Crystle said as we made our way over to the beverages. “They seem to be getting weirder all the time.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  This sounded like information I should have. I followed the girls to an empty table and we took our seats.

  “They keep holding secret meetings,” Bridget said. “I mean, what goes on at their meetings is always a secret, but now they're actually meeting in secret—like late at night.”

  I was intrigued. “What do you think that's about?”

  “No idea,” Crystle said around a forkful of mashed potatoes, “but Michael has been called to stand guard outside the council room doors . He claims he hasn't eavesdropped, which is totally annoying.”

  “Who's Michael?” Callie wanted to know. I was more intrigued by the clandestine gatherings.

  It was Bridget who answered. “Crystle's boyfriend. He's almost nineteen and a Guardian. His arms are like tree trunks.”

  Crystle beamed. “That's my man.” Her expression turned sour. “When I get to see him, that is… That's another thing they're doing. They're sending out extra patrols to hunt for Reds, and they have so many Guardians up at the Gate lately, you'd think they were expecting a demon horde to come crashing through.”

  “Why wouldn’t they be?” I said, thinking back to the Dahrak demon. The thought of just one made me shudder; I couldn't imagine an army of them.

  Crystle laughed. “You are new. There hasn't been a breach at any of the Gates since they were first formed.”

  I choked on my salad. When I'd recovered, I said, “So…you mean that if there were a demon running around right now, it would be a couple thousand years old?”

  I looked to Callie, but there was no hint of recognition in her eyes. Taren was right; she didn't remember seeing one.

  “No, I mean that there are no demons on this side of the Gateway—there never have been.When the Gate was created, the bad Daemons disappeared, sucked into the alternate world,” Crystle said, echoing what Master Dogan had told me. “They didn’t become demons until after that.”

  “Right,” Bridget added. “So don’t look so freaked out—you’re perfectly safe.” She gave me a reassuring smile as she reached for her soda.

  My spine tingled and I felt lightheaded. They didn't know. How could they not know? And why?

  “What about Reds?” I asked, doing my best to sound calm even while my stomach twisted.

  “How do you know about Reds?” Crystle asked.


  “Just a term I’ve heard,” I said, feigning nonchalance. “They look human, right? With red eyes?”

  “That's what they say,” Crystle shrugged. “I've never seen one, thank God. I'm pretty sure most of the stories about them are exaggerated, though.”

  “But what are they, exactly?” I toyed with my food, my appetite having disappeared.

  “Marked Ones that chose the wrong side,” Bridget answered. “You'll learn all about them in class. Some were born with the mark and just happen to also be bad people, but others weren't found in time. Instead of going crazy, the voices convinced them to be emissaries. In exchange, Reds get certain powers, like strength and speed. Speaking of which, how were you able to go this long and not go nuts or become a Red?”

  I hadn't wanted the conversation to come back to me. I struggled to come up with an explanation for something that was still a mystery. I wasn't used to thinking of myself as fortunate in the sanity department. Had the Voice been trying to turn me evil? But It was the one that had convinced me to take the pills. What good would I be to It dead? I was missing an important piece to this puzzle.

  While my head spun, something caught my attention out of the corner of my eye. It was Taren, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, looking at me.

  I stood. “Excuse me. There's someone I need to talk to.”

  All three girls followed my eyes.

  “Oh, yum,” Crystle said. “Lucky you. It was Taren who brought you in?”

  “He brought both of us,” Callie said, her voice filled with affection. “He's so nice.”

  “Yeah, nice,” Crystle said with a sly smile. “Nice eyes, nice butt…”

  “Oh, stop already. You're a taken woman,” Bridget said, rolling her eyes.

  “Taken, but not blind. Taren is a total—”

  Whatever Crystle thought Taren was, I didn't hear. I was already halfway to where he was standing. He smiled at my approach, but I could see a wariness in his eyes.

  “Hey,” I said. “Not hungry?”

  He shook his head. “No, but I didn't mean to interrupt your meal.”

  “It's a good thing you did. They were starting to ask questions I don't have answers to.” It was hard to keep the edge from my voice.

  He sighed. “I was afraid of that. You want to go for a walk?”

  The setting sun streaked the sky with pink and orange. It was my favorite kind of Los Angeles evening—just cool enough to need my jacket, but mild enough to enjoy being outside. I would have considered it romantic, were it not for the fact that I still wasn't sure whether Taren and Kat were dating, or if I was one hundred percent human.

  “So I hear that there aren't any demons on this side of the Gateway,” I said once we were out of earshot.

  A look of alarm took over Taren's face. “You didn't tell them, did you? What you saw at the mental hospital?”

  “I can keep a secret,” I said, annoyed. “But aside from telling me not to say that I saw a demon, it might have been helpful if you'd told they aren’t supposed to be on this side of the Gateway.”

  “I was trying not to bombard you,” Taren said, “and I didn't think it would come up so soon. How did it, anyway?”

  “Crystle and Bridget were talking about how things have gotten weird lately. Secret meetings, extra Keepers and Guardians at the Gateway…”

  Taren gave me a sideways glance. “You got into all of that in the first ten minutes of dinner?”

  “Never underestimate the ability of teenage girls to disseminate information,” I said. “I also hear Crystle's boyfriend has arms like tree trunks.”

  He broke into a wry smile. “Well, that part is true, at least.”

  We reached a stone bench and Taren motioned for me to sit. He joined me, and I became acutely aware of our proximity.

  “And the rest of it? The meetings, the extra people—that isn't true?”

  “I can't talk about that,” he said, pressing his mouth into a firm line. “I've been forbidden to.”

  “You can't be serious,” I said. “After everything that's gone on in the past twenty-four hours, you still don't trust me? I've done everything you've asked of me, and you promised me answers. Annys and Dogan were a veritable font of bizarre information—like I might be a space alien—but nothing they told me made me less confused. And you promised to come find me, but instead you bailed to go on a hike and I was left alone to try and not completely flip out.”

  I was rambling and my voice was an octave too high but I couldn't help myself. I felt my eyes begin to water and I willed myself not to cry, not in front of Taren. He thought I was strong. What would he think if I started bawling like a baby?

  Taren turned to me, and when he spoke his voice was as tender as when he'd been trying to bring Callie back from the brink. “Ember, I'm sorry. Everything you said is true. You've been asked to carry an incredible burden. It's not that I don't want to tell you—”

  “Then tell me! Tell me something, at least. Why don't people here know there are demons running around? Shouldn't you be preparing them to—” My eyes widened in recognition. “They do know, don’t they? The secret meetings, the increase in patrols, the extra Guardians at the Gate. The Elders know, and the Guardians know. But the Keepers don't—at least, not the ones in training.”

  Taren was silent, but his expression told me I was right.

  “So the extra patrols are to hunt them down and the extra Guardians at the Gateway…” My heart pounded in my chest. “There's been a breach, and the demons have gotten through.”

  Taren shook his head in disbelief. “Anyone ever tell you you're too smart for your own good?”

  “Yeah,” I said when I could speak, “but this is the first time I've agreed.”

  I had spent most of my life longing for a different one—any one—but the one I had. And now it was different. So different and so frightening that I longed for my old life. Even if I'd been forced to spend a month at Windsor before I'd been let out, I'd gladly have gone back to the uncertainty of my mother's moods and my outsider freak status at school.

  So what if I had a Voice in my head? In my old life, it was either my guardian angel or a figment of my imagination. In this reality, it was a demonic entity. One that wanted me dead. One that could come for my mind if I left this small patch of the world, and apparently could come after me physically not only via possessed humans, but maybe even in the flesh.

  “Are you all right?” Taren's voice brought me back to the present.

  A bitter laugh escaped my lips.

  “No, I am definitely not all right,” I said. “I am so far from all right it would take the light from all right a thousand years to reach me.”

  “Would it help if I told you you're taking all of this really well?”

  Easy for him to say—he wasn't privy to my racing thoughts. I wanted to run screaming from this place, but where would I go? I sat very still and focused my attention on a smooth black pebble on the ground.

  “Where are you?” Taren's voice came from far away.

  I broke my gaze and looked at him. “What do you mean? I'm right here.”

  “You were staring at the ground and you got calmer. Your breathing got deeper and your shoulders relaxed. Were you meditating?”

  “Meditating? No, I was just…staring. Trying to make sense of all of this.” I wasn't going to get sidetracked. “Why don't the Keepers know what's happened? Or is it just the students who don't know? And don't tell me you can't say, because I swear I'll start telling everyone in that dorm what I've seen. Annys neglected to cover that part in her threat of expulsion.”

  Taren considered for a long moment and then exhaled, his shoulders sagging.

  “The Keepers know,” he said. “It's the students who don't, not yet. We're hoping to contain the situation so that when we tell them, the danger will have passed. They aren't skilled enough to help and it would only frighten them. It's important they stay focused on their studies, just as it's important for you to try to f
orget about everything else and throw yourself into learning to become a Keeper.”

  “So you think it's true? That I'm a space alien?”

  “Being Daemon doesn't mean you're an alien,” he said quietly, and for a moment, he was the one who seemed far away. “That's just one theory based on speculation. But yes, I do think you are part Daemon. It's the only thing that makes sense.”

  “And that doesn't freak you out?” I searched his face for a hint of revulsion, and was relieved to find none.

  “We're all freaks in our own way,” he said softly.

  “Oh yeah? What's so freaky about you?” I asked, then flushed at the unintentional suggestiveness of my question. “I mean…”

  He grinned. “Well, I like you. If you're to be believed, that automatically qualifies, right?”

  My stomach did a somersault and a smile spread on my face. “Yes, liking me qualifies. Though if you claimed to understand me, I might suggest you check yourself back into Windsor.”

  “Well, then I guess it's a good thing you're still so much of an enigma.”

  His words made me feel different, but in a good way—not like a mutant, but like a mystery he wanted to solve layer by layer.

  I was locked in place by his gaze and felt myself being drawn forward, closer to him. He put his hand on my cheek, tilting forward so that our foreheads met. His touch sent a current throughout my body and my breath caught. He closed his eyes and exhaled, the warmth of his breath passing through my parted lips.

  And then he was standing, turned away from me. It took a moment to get over my shock. He hadn't just been comforting me for feeling like a freak, he had been about to kiss me—I was sure of it. What made him change his mind?

  “I'll take you back now,” he said finally. “You should get to know the other students.”

  Why wouldn't he face me? Was I that repulsive? Or was it Kat? I still didn’t know if they were dating. In any case, the awkward silence had gone on too long.

  “Right, get to know the other students,” I said, trying to keep the bitterness from my voice. “As long as I don't tell them the truth about anything.”