Awakened (Paranormal romance, YA fantasy) (The Guardian Legacy)

by Ednah Walters

  I felt a presence behind me, then someone held my hair away from my face as I emptied the contents of my stomach. I shook with fear and anger. Everyone I ever loved always left me, taken by the same demon.

  Why? Tears escaped past my eyelids and slid down my face.

  I heard murmurs, recognized Kim’s voice, Izzy’s perfume. Someone pushed a wad of tissue in my hand. “How are you feeling?” Izzy whispered

  “Pissed,” I snarled, wiping my eyes and mouth.

  “Good,” she said. “We are, too.”

  I blinked at them.

  They nodded. “The old geezers out there can’t do this,” Izzy said.

  “We won’t let them,” Kim added. “Between now and first period tomorrow, the six of us will have kicked some demon butts, rescued your grandfather and Moira and teleported home like the bad-ass heroes that we are.”

  “Six?” I asked.

  “Bran must lead us. How else will we know where to go, when to hit them while they’re vulnerable?”

  Tears crested my eyes, again. Had I thought these girls were arrogant? I did, and they were. But the last few days showed me they were much more. I plopped on the bathroom floor, more tears flowing down my face.

  “Hey. We said we were on your side,” Kim protested.

  “I know. I’m happy to have you guys as my friends.”

  They pulled me up and wrapped their arms around me in a group hug. I only cried harder. They didn’t let go until I calmed down.

  Kim was the first to step back. “Come on. Let’s join the others. We have some planning to do.”

  21. THE RESCUE PLANS

  “No. Out of the question. Didn’t you listen to what I said at that meeting?” Bran glared at Kim and Izzy then turned his attention to me. We all sat on the L-shaped sectional couch in Remy and Sykes’ basement. Bran stayed standing. “I can’t agree to such a crazy plan,” he added.

  “I don’t consider rescuing my grandfather crazy.”

  “There’s a reason why he said no one should try. It’s dangerous.”

  “So? You braved being vanquished when you came to this valley to seek help from the Cardinals. Why is what we’re planning any different?”

  He glowered at me.

  He’s all I’ve got, Bran.

  His emerald eyes flashed. You have me, too.

  Then help us. Together, we stand a fighting chance.

  I can’t put you in harm’s way. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you got hurt.

  And how do you expect me to feel if anything happens to Grampa?

  Kim snapped her fingers in front of my eyes. “Enough of that! You can’t have a private conversation when this concerns all of us.”

  I frowned at her. “Bran’s being difficult.”

  Kim dismissed my words with a brief wave. “We can see that, but he’s not going to change our minds. We’re doing this with or without him.”

  “No, you’re not,” he snapped.

  Kim cocked their head. “And who’s going to stop us?”

  “Me,” he said. “You want to risk your necks, go ahead. Lil stays here.”

  His attitude was pissing me off. “I don’t recall appointing you my knight or guardian.”

  His eyes flashed. “Tough. You got me.”

  The grip on my emotions loosened. “Valafar has already taken two people I loved, Bran. I can’t let him take another. I won’t.” My voice shook as I finished.

  Silence followed.

  Bran scrubbed his face, muttered, “Please don’t cry.”

  “I’m not crying. I’m pissed. And if you don’t want to help us, we’ll find a way without you.” I looked over at Remy and Sykes. “Let’s do it.”

  Remy nodded. “A demon club on Bunker Hill shouldn’t be hard to find. And since there’re tunnels underneath it, it shouldn’t take us long to locate the Underground.”

  I ignored Bran’s glowering and focused on Remy. “Do we leave now?”

  He looked at his watch. “First, let’s suit up, then stop by the HQ and pick up hunting supplies. We’ll go for smaller, concealable weapons.”

  I didn’t understand. “Why HQ? Why not use the weapons from the dojo?”

  “The ones at the dojo are for practice. The real arsenal, the ones the Cardinals use are in a room at the headquarters. The trick is to get in and out unnoticed,” Remy explained

  “Okay. I’ll help,” Bran cut in. He still sounded pissed.

  I knew he’d come around. “What should we do first?”

  All eyes turned to Bran. “The entrance to the Underground is located under a nightclub—an exclusive, demons-only nightclub.” He searched everyone’s face. “Gavyn runs it and is the only one who can get us inside. The place is huge and complex, but with his help, we should be able get to where they’re keeping the Cardinals.”

  “Man, I hope he comes through on this,” Sykes said.

  I waited to see Bran’s reaction. His voice was calm when he spoke. “He will. Remy, I like your idea of concealable weapons. Put them in a duffel bag. I’ll find a way to get them inside. The dance floor is on the first floor of the building, but Gavyn’s office is a floor above it. As soon as we get inside, you guys mingle, maybe grab drinks—”

  “No time for drinks,” Remy jumped in. He sounded tense.

  Bran sighed. “Listen, man. I know you’re the leader of this team, but tonight you must defer to me. At least until we’re done with Gavyn.”

  Remy hesitated. “Fine.”

  “Good. When we get there, you guys hang for, say, ten minutes then head up the right stairway to the balcony. There’s black door at the corner of the balcony. It’s kind of hard to see because it blends with the décor and has no knob. Use your powers to open it, Remy. I’ll be waiting on the other side.”

  A tense silence followed as reality of what we were planning began to sink in.

  “We’ll also need to blend in at the club,” Bran continued. “That means clubbing outfits. And lose the Guardian amulet and bracelets. They’ll glow and give us away.”

  My concerns increased as I listened to him. With no jadeite to protect us, we were going to enter that club vulnerable. What if we got ambushed? What if someone got hurt? Could I live with myself for pushing this rescue mission?

  Izzy jumped up. “Then we need to get busy. Come on, Lil. Let’s see what you got.”

  I frowned. “What do you mean ‘what I got’?”

  “We’re going to a club, little sister. I want to see what you have in your closet.”

  “I can dress myself, thank you very much.”

  “Sure you can.” She grabbed my hand and teleported me to my bedroom. She went straight to my closet and started rummaging through my clothes, clicking her tongue and making a mess in the process. What did she expect to find?

  “No, these won’t do,” she said.

  I winced. She was turning my neat closet into a junkyard. “I’ve nice jeans and—”

  She laughed. And not in a nice way.

  “Skirts?” I asked.

  “Sweetie, I love how you blend your threads for school. It’s very you and unique. But we’re going clubbing, not to a Flamenco festival. I guess we’ll have to raid my closet.”

  Before I could protest, she grabbed my arm and we appeared in her bedroom. It was my first time there, but I was left with an impression of warmth. The room was done in palettes of brown, gold and jungle green. Her bed had a sheer golden canopy over it.

  “We’re not even the same size,” I grumbled.

  “Oh yes, we are. You’re just taller, that’s all. Ah, here it is. I haven’t even worn it.” She lifted a turquoise, off-shoulder, cowl neck sweater dress with three-quarter sleeves. “Try it on. What size shoes do you wear?”

  “Nine and a half. Why?”

  “I’ll be back.”

  While she disappeared somewhere, I removed my workout sweats and tried on the dress. It reached around my knees. I’d never worn something so short.

  “Don’t do
that,” Izzy warned when she reappeared and found me tugging the helm down. In her hands were a pair of black tights and a black trench coat, which she threw on her bed, and calf-length black boots. The heels were a few inches long, totally impractical. I’ve never worn heels and will probably fall flat on my face. She studied me and nodded. “The dress is a perfect fit. Put on the tights and the boots. I’ll send Kim to do your make-up.” She disappeared again before I could protest.

  All this to go to some demon club? I griped as I pulled on the tights and the boots. Whose were they anyway? I glanced in the mirror and smiled. Not bad. I undid my single braid and finger combed my curly mane. It fell in waves to my upper back and over my shoulders.

  A flash of light and Kim appeared. My eyes widened at her scandalous gold and black mini skirt and top. On her feet were over-the-knee, high-heeled boots. And her cleavage…wow, I didn’t realize just how well-developed she was. Beside her, my chest looked like a boy’s.

  “Sit here,” she pointed at the dresser stool and opened a bag of make-up I hadn’t noticed she carried. She threw her black leather jacket on top of the trench coat Izzy left behind for me.

  I sat still as she worked on my face, then she turned me around to face the mirror. My jaw dropped. Was that me? I looked different. I felt different, older. My make-up was subtle, my tan skin glowing with vitality under all the glitter. I leaned closer for a better look. Yeah, my lashes looked thicker and longer, and my eyes a deeper shade of green than usual. Would Bran like the new me? A thrill ran through me, followed by remorse. I should be worried about Grampa not how hot I looked dolled up.

  Instead of being self-conscious in such a tight, short outfit, I felt more confident. Powerful. Irresistible.

  “You like it?” Kim asked.

  I nodded. “Hmm. I feel….”

  “Invincible,” Izzy finished.

  I hadn’t even noticed she’d returned to the room. Her silver and black skin-tight dress was simple, yet eye-popping. Her high-heeled boots were ankle-high and pointed at the toes. She wore a trench coat like the one she’d given me. I exchanged a smile with her. “Invincible is a good word.”

  “Let’s join the guys,” Kim said.

  “Don’t forget to remove the amulets,” Izzy added.

  ***

  “About time,” Sykes said when we appeared, then he let out a long whistle. “Not bad, ladies. Not bad. Red, you look…amazing.”

  “You don’t look bad yourself.” He had on black slacks and a white dress shirt, which he topped with a black biker’s jacket. Black loafers finished his attire.

  Remy spared us a glance, nodded in approval and went back to zipping a duffel bag. It looked like he’d packed the entire dojo inventory. He looked at his watch as he stood up. He was dressed similar to Sykes, except he wore a black hoodie with silver rivets and white loafers. For once, they didn’t wear gloves.

  “Okay, it’s time,” Remy said.

  “What about Bran?” I asked, buttoning then belting my coat.

  “He’ll meet us on Lucas Avenue. It’s right by the old Toluca Substation, a portal to the underground tunnels under Bunker Hill. You’ll teleport with me, Lil. The others can come through our telegate.”

  I took a deep breath and gripped his hand. He grabbed the handles of the duffel bag. “Let’s do this.”

  Their family room disappeared to be replaced by a field of some kind with high-rises in the background. I would’ve lost my balance on the uneven ground if it weren’t for Remy’s hand holding me upright. I sucked at teleporting to begin with and the heels only made my clumsiness more apparent. The others appeared behind us.

  The sun had already set and darkness crept under L.A. smog, but I could still see the portal to the tunnels ahead of us. A shack dotted with graffiti was to our right.

  “This way,” Remy said, pointing to our left.

  We walked across the park and up a short hill, passed a bent section of a chain link fence and reached the highway, where a line of four black SUVs waited. Street lights and headlights of passing cars bounced off their sleek exterior, but the tinted windows made it impossible to see the drivers.

  The passenger door of the second car opened and Bran jumped down. He was dressed in all black—pants, shirt and his leather duster coat. Several more doors opened and men in flowing brown robes belted with a robe stepped down. There were about six of them. With the hoods covering their heads, I couldn’t see their faces. We all slowed down to a stop.

  Bran waved us over. “Guys, these,” he indicated the men in monk-like garbs, “are my friends. You know them as souled demons.”

  “Others call us the Outcasts,” a deep, rumbling voice said underneath a robe. I was close enough now to see his face, but all I saw were the wraparound sunglasses and a full beard. “I’m Darius. We’ll escort you to the Lair. Some of our people are already inside to watch your back. Give him the bag.” He slanted his head toward the driver of the first car.

  Remy handed over the bag of weapons to the faceless man, who threw it inside the car. The man then slid behind the steering wheel, gunned the engine and took off.

  “Don’t worry, Guardian,” Darius said. “Your weapons will be inside when you get there. Shall we?”

  Bran led me to the car he’d exited and slid beside me. Sykes joined us. Izzy, Kim, and Remy were led to the one behind us. The remaining three men took the rear car. We entered the traffic and took off toward the high rises. Inside the car, no one spoke. I began to fidget.

  “Thank you for helping us,” I told Darius.

  He nodded. Bran took my hand and moved closer. His breath fanned my face. “How are you holding up?”

  “Good. You think we’ll pull this off?”

  “Of course,” he whispered. “We have the element of surprise on our side. Gavyn said there are a few guards down there.”

  Should we trust Gavyn? I shivered and looked out the window. Muted sounds filtered inside and teased my ears, music from cars zipping past us, blaring horns from impatient drives, ambulance wailing somewhere in the background. Having Bran with us was reassuring. His brother would not dare betray us with Bran on our side.

  We stopped moving, and I realized we’d arrived. I looked out the window and shivered. We were outside a storied building, a block from the high rises. A line of high-end, sporty cars—Porsches, Ferraris, Jags and Lamborghinis—snaked in front of us to the entrance of the club. Uniformed valets caught keys and parked cars with the efficiency of an ant colony.

  “We’ll wait in the parking lot,” Darius said as he slid to the entrance. He didn’t acknowledge the valet trying to get his attention. Bran, Sykes and I stepped down and the man drove off. The others joined us.

  “Your friends don’t say much, do they?” Sykes asked Bran.

  Remy shrugged. “We got the ride, bro. Imagine teleporting to this place.”

  “Listen, guys,” Bran said. “Demons like to get inside people’s heads, so try to think of anything but the valley and the Cardinals.”

  “I have the monks on my mind,” Izzy murmured, unbuttoning her coat. “Not that I could see their faces.”

  “Glamour,” Bran explained. “Think of the men if you must. Anyone searching your thoughts will assume you’re from Darius’ brotherhood. This is one club where their kind is allowed.”

  A hollow feeling settled in my stomach as I removed my coat. Bran reached for my hand, saw my outfit and grinned. “Wow, you look amazing.”

  I’d wanted to wow him, but now I couldn’t care less. I was more worried about our safety and Grampa, and how long I had to continue wearing the heeled boots. “Thanks.”

  “Come on.” He exchanged nods with some of the valets. Two buffed-up bouncers, a dark-haired guy with spiked hair and a dark-skinned guy with dreadlocks and trimmed goatee eyed us as we approached. My unease increased.

  Bran nodded at Dreadlock. “T.J.”

  The bouncer’s gaze ran over our group. “Llyr.”

  “Busy night?”

/>   “No more than usual.” The guy’s gaze went to my hair, lingered. Pressure increased inside my head. He was trying to read my thoughts. I resisted. Surprised crossed his face. He dragged his attention from me to Bran. “He’s waiting for you upstairs. How many in your party?”

  “Six.” Bran indicated the trainees.

  T.J. nodded, stepped aside and slanted his head toward the glass door. I caught his reflection on the door. His assessing gaze stayed on us. I didn’t trust the guy, and it had nothing to do with him being a demon.

  We passed the double doors and walked through a short tunnel-like hallway, fake smoke swirling around our feet. The foyer glowed with red lights, and the cascading crystal chandeliers were breathtaking. I took a moment to orientate myself, forcing Bran to stop, too. The place was packed, but the lack of verbal and psychic conversation was jarring. Music filtered from somewhere in the background, but it was muted. My gaze darted around, trying to figure out what was happening.

  On each side of the entryway was a sunken lounge area with oversized ottomans occupied by gorgeous men and women. To our left, a large screen stood in the middle of the customers. Not your usual flat-screen T.V. I could see right through this one. Everyone on that side of the room had their gazes locked on it. What were they watching? There were no images.

  Bran nudged me to move, but I couldn’t. My gaze was on the man seated on a gilded umpire chair beside the screen. Dressed in all white, he had chiseled features, long wavy blond hair and a face so perfect he looked like a master’s sculpture. He waved a hand over the screen, and a football game commenced.

  No sounds. Just the images. The camera followed one player as he raced with a ball. He jumped and missed being taken down several times, did a flip and took off so fast he appeared blurry. He slammed the ball on the ground and started to dance. I didn’t follow sports, but I knew a touchdown when I saw one. I smiled. He was good. Could he be a demon? Was that what held these guys enthralled?

  We’ll start at point-five million dollars, ladies and gents, a melodic voice telepathed. He’s a keeper, and is willing to bring some of his fans with him to whoever owns him. Do I hear point-five-five?