Inquest

by Gladden, DelSheree

  Suddenly he turns away from the door, making me lose sight of him. I bolt up from my chair, fearing that he is going to…I don’t know what he might do, but I doubt I’ll like it. Ms. Sanchez yelps and drops her book in response. It slaps against the ground and wakes up the rest of the class with a start. Nobody says anything. They just stare.

  “I, uh…I have to use the restroom,” I say quickly. No need to hide my Speed anymore. I have my bag packed in under a second, and I’m rushing out the door before anyone can take another breath. The door whooshes closed behind me with a noise so soft it sounds like a sigh, a grateful acknowledgement of me leaving. Even the building hates me.

  I realize I’m standing in the middle of the hallway staring at the wall in front of me like an idiot, and wake myself back up. Where did he go? I glance around and nearly cry out when I find him standing right behind me. A good six inches taller than me, his presence instantly crowds me.

  “Braden,” I gasp, “what are you doing here?”

  “I thought you might be happy to see me given your invitation to switch allegiances,” he says, “but you didn’t even give me enough time to move away from the door. If I knew you were that desperate for new recruits I would have come to see you sooner.”

  Irritation boils under my skin to the point of making my entire body itch. Cocky, arrogant jerk. I didn’t make that offer because I was desperate. I mean, I am - I can use all the help I can get - but I only made the offer because having a Guardian on my side would be invaluable. After two weeks of quiet, I thought I was through with Braden surprising me. “I ran out here so fast to make sure you weren’t going to try and kill any more of my friends.”

  “I only ever tried to arrest Milo, not kill him,” Braden argues.

  “I think you mean kidnap.”

  He stares me down. “Call it what you want. I still wasn’t trying to kill him. And I’m not here to kill, arrest, or kidnap any of your friends this time, just so you know.”

  “Then why are you here?” I ask.

  Stepping in closer to me, Braden is only inches away from me before I can think to stop him. My skin reacts with a strangely familiar burst of electricity. It’s a weird feeling I don’t understand in the least, and don’t like. I shove him away from me and glare at him as I wait for his response.

  “I’m here for you this time,” Braden says.

  A scouring flash of terror runs through me. I scramble and tap into my Vision to make sure he isn’t going to try and kill me where I stand. It fizzles and doesn’t tell me a thing. Luckily, my other talents are going strong. More than that, some instinct tells me Braden won’t hurt me. He may try to kill me one day and prove me wrong, but my heart rate slows back down as I realize it won’t be today. He takes a step back to reinforce my instincts, but his presence lingers on my skin a moment longer. I can’t explain the way he affects me. He’s a Guardian, a member of the brotherhood whose sole purpose in life is to murder me, but his brash curiosity and honesty refuse to let me really fear him. Or maybe it’s more than that. The physical sensation touching him elicits isn’t hormones. It’s something else. It takes me a few seconds too long to take a step away from him.

  “Why are you here, Braden?”

  “Penance,” he says with a grimace. I don’t understand and he knows it. He leans back against a row of lockers with a frown and shoves his hands into his pockets. With a build somewhere between offensive lineman and dancer, Braden is obviously capable of taking care of himself, but his posture makes him look momentarily vulnerable. “Well, you didn’t think I could lose my entire strike team to a girl and not be punished for it, did you?”

  Is he actually here to accept my offer? I’m not sure how I feel about that possibility.

  “Did you get kicked out of the Guardians?” I ask. A tiny sliver of guilt that I might have cost him his job tries to wriggle its way into my mind. Braden’s laugh takes care of that.

  “Kicked out? No. It’s much harder to get out of the Guardians than you might think.” He says it lightheartedly, but his expression darkens as he speaks. My own stomach turns queasy as I remember Mr. Walters, my Destroyer teacher, showing me the ugly scars that crisscross most of his body. He was not only a Guardian once, but a member of the elite, and very secret Seekers, as well. I still don’t know how he got those scars, but I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know. Braden and I may be pretty far from friends, but I don’t necessarily want the same thing to happen to him, either.

  “So what does your punishment have to do with you being at my school? If anyone sees you they’re going to report you. You better go before we both get in trouble.” Or before Milo or Lance see him. They have no idea that Braden came to see me later that night after he attacked Milo, but just the sight of him near me will put them both on the offensive. And after weeks of having to deal with each other, both convinced the other is going to get me killed, they are more than ready for a fight.

  Braden doesn’t look interested in leaving. “My punishment has everything to do with being at your school, Libby. And I wouldn’t worry about people seeing me, or getting in trouble,” he says cryptically.

  “What do you mean,” I ask. A sinking feeling is already gathering in my belly.

  “People are going to see me a lot starting today, especially you,” Braden says.

  What does he mean by that? Does he want to be here…around me? I don’t know how to take that comment. The reason he’s here does finally sink in regardless of my confusion about his motives. My stomach drops out completely. I groan as I finally understand. “You’re the new school Guardian, aren’t you?” I heard that our old school Guardian had been transferred, but I hadn’t thought much of it. Until meeting Braden, I thought one Guardian was pretty much the same as any other.

  He nods, looking rather amused at my fallen countenance. He’s enjoying this way too much for it being a punishment. “My captain thought a fitting reprimand for losing my team was to put me in charge of keeping a close eye on you. He thought it would be helpful to get to know you better for next time.”

  And I didn’t think my day could get any worse. “Next time?”

  “You know there’s going to be a next time,” he says gravely.

  “Will you be there?” I ask.

  Braden sinks against the locker, his expression truly serious for the first time. The color of caramel, his hair is too short to hide him, but he seems less oppressive, unsure. He sighs. “I don’t know.”

  Not exactly the answer I was hoping for, but I suppose it’s better than an emphatic yes. Braden only gave me the barest details about what happened when he told his captain that I had performed a second Inquest on Milo and unlocked his supposedly absent talents, but I suspected there was much more. Something changed Braden from willing Cipher hunter to possible defector. I told him that night that if he ever wanted to switch teams I would take him. Every time I think about the offer I tell myself it’s purely because his inside knowledge will be invaluable, but to be perfectly honest I can’t stand the thought of having to kill Braden. There is something about him that makes even the idea of hurting him turn my stomach.

  He knows that’s what it would come to as well as I do. For some insane reason I told him I’m going to go after the Guardians who are keeping all the supposedly talentless Ciphers locked away in the spirit world. If he stays with them, he’ll be one of the ones I have to kill to rescue them. And I’ll do it if I have to. The cold, logical side of me I hate listening to has already convinced me that as much as I believe Braden is a good person when you put aside his profession, his life isn’t valuable enough to risk losing the Ciphers. Not when they’re the only ones who can help me, the ones meant to be my army.

  Pensive silence crowds around us, filling the empty hallway. The pressure of it pushes me toward Braden. I lean against the lockers next to him. I don’t want to think about this anymore. As if in answer to my wish, Braden spins toward me so he has me trapped against the lockers before I can react. My
heart lurches, but this time it’s not in fear. And my mind is miles away from Ciphers. Braden’s body is mere inches away from mine. His eyes are still troubled, but his wolf-like curiosity has returned. He presses in a little closer.

  “You know,” I say at barely more than a whisper, “I doubt the principal would approve of you standing so close to me. I’m a student, remember?”

  “She’s not around to see me, is she?”

  “Braden, please,” I beg.

  “Please what?”

  I could throw him across the hallway if I wanted to. I could grab his neck and snap it in two. But the confusion pulsing through me makes it hard to think. Part of me doesn’t want to push him away. The rest of me says I don’t know anything about him, and Milo would kill him if he saw him like this.

  “Braden, let me go,” I demand.

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re making me uncomfortable.”

  He peers at me so intently I have to remind myself he has no Perception to know what I’m feeling right now.

  “Uncomfortable,” he says. “I would have chosen a different word.”

  “I don’t care about your vocabulary skills. Let me go.”

  “I’m not keeping you here,” he says. I cringe at the truth of his words. I could easily get away if I wanted to.

  “What are you so worried about?” Braden asks. “Afraid one of your boyfriends will see you with me?”

  “Lance is my ex,” I remind him, “but yes. I doubt Milo would appreciate you standing so close to me. This might look a little hostile to him. Milo is very protective of me.”

  Braden hardly looks concerned. Taking a different route, I say, “Or he might make a different assumption and decide your interest in me is physical. He also tends to get a little jealous when it comes to me and other guys.” Just ask Lance about that.

  Braden seems to have lost all his earlier melancholy. His expression turns serious, with a hint of amusement. “Well,” he says as his lips moves closer to mine, “if he’s going to be jealous of me regardless…”

  Alarm bells start blaring in my head. Even so, for a split second I hesitate. Then I shove him back with both hands. I expect him to laugh, or tease me, but the sudden burst of pain I feel from him surprises me. He tries to cover it up quickly, but I’m too good for him to elude. I approach him cautiously.

  “Are you okay?” I ask. “I didn’t shove you that hard.”

  “I’m fine.”

  He turns away. Shame rolls off of him, but with a heavy dose of pride as well. It takes a moment to realize the shame is for letting me see him in pain rather than for the injury itself. Whatever got him hurt, he thinks it was worth it. I didn’t do this, but now I’m curious about who did.

  I walk around to face him and ask, “Who hurt you?”

  He doesn’t look interested in telling me. I don’t know why I should care, but the same oddity that makes my body react to his presence inspires a strange sense of protectiveness toward him. My need to know who hurt him makes me reach for the buttons on his shirt. His hands grab mine, but he doesn’t push me back, just stops me from going any further.

  “Let me see, Braden.”

  “Why do you care?” he asks, an intensity behind his question that startles me.

  “I don’t know,” I admit, “but I want to know what happened.”

  You’d think Braden would be thrilled to unbutton in front of me given what he just tried, but his reluctant sigh is quite the opposite. He does seem to realize, though, that I am not going to back down. I need to know how badly he was hurt. Pushing my hands away slowly, he leaves them at my sides and takes his own hands back to his shirt. He unbuttons the first few buttons.

  I know full well how this will look if anyone happens to walk up, but I don’t really care at the moment. Another couple of buttons pop loose. The bright red crosshatching all over his chest makes me suck in a sharp breath. If I know the Guardians, they’ll be covering his back as well. I took out his team two weeks ago, but apparently the Guardians aren’t terribly swift with their punishments. These cuts still look fairly fresh. My fingers reach forward in awful fascination. I don’t even come close to touching him. Braden grabs my hand immediately and pulls it back down.

  “Was this part of your punishment?”

  Looking at me without any doubts, he says, “Yes, but it was worth it.”

  Scared by his admission, I try to take a step back. When I don’t get very far I realize Braden never let go of my hand. I yank it away easily and say, “Why would that kind of pain be worth it to you?”

  “Does my pain make you doubt your decision to save Milo? Would you have made any other choice just to save me a little punishment?”

  “No,” I say.

  “Because you knew you were making the right choice. And so did I. Forget you ever saw it.”

  I won’t. Just like everyone else I know that has suffered under Guardian rule, the sight of his mutilated flesh will haunt me. But for now I will pretend.

  I quickly begin to re-button Braden’s shirt with the intention of getting away from him. The hint of fresh blood where I shoved him makes me falter for a second. I have to shake myself to finish closing up his shirt before anyone else sees the cuts. Not that there’s anyone else out here with us, but I also want to get out of this hallway. Besides, I’ve already had one mortifying hallway incident when Lance tried to convince me to take him back by practically attacking me with his mouth. Milo witnessing that was worse than any of the thirteen broken bones I’ve had. I really don’t want to repeat the experience.

  Stepping clear of Braden, I change the subject in an effort to get as far away from blood and kissing as possible. “So, you’re really going to be here every day, ghosting through the halls like a stalker?”

  “Stalker? That seems a little harsh, don’t you think?” he asks.

  I throw him a baleful glare. “No. What else would I call someone who followed me and my boyfriend to the theater, tracked me down afterward, then shows up at my school and pins me against a row of lockers? I think stalker is the perfect word for you, Braden.”

  The bell rings, followed by the raucous hum of students trying to escape, but Braden seems completely unfazed. He steps behind me and brings his mouth right next to my ear. As the first students spill out of their classrooms, he whispers, “I’m not a stalker, Libby, I’m a hunter.”

  And then he disappears into the crowd.

  ###

  About the Author

  DelSheree Gladden lives in New Mexico with her husband and two children. The Southwest is a big influence in her writing because of its culture, beauty, and mythology. Local folk lore is strongly rooted in her writing, particularly ideas of prophecy, destiny, and talents born from natural abilities. When she is not writing, DelSheree is usually teaching yoga, coaching gymnastics, reading, painting, sewing, or studying about teeth as a Dental Hygiene student. Her works include Escaping Fate and the Twin Souls Saga. Look for the next two books in The Destroyer Trilogy, Secret of Betrayal and Darkening Chaos, in winter 2012 and early 2013. Follow sixteen-year-old Libby Sparks as she tries to escape her destiny to destroy the world.

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  http://www.delshereegladden.com

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