by May Dawson
It was hard to believe everything was going to be all right, but Levi said it so confidently that my rapid-beating heart calmed a little.
Ryker drove, pushing the Range Rover to its maximum speed. Jacob was beside me, working through the go-bag the guys kept ready. He slapped a magazine into a 9mm and then, checking that the safety was on, flipped it around taking it by the barrel and passed it up to Levi.
I nodded. But my heart was racing so fast that I could barely breathe, afraid of what was happening at my mother's house.
Levi's phone rang again, and he put it on speaker phone, holding it up over the center console so we could all hear. "We're on our way."
"Good. We're in the house, we saw the Company men coming. They're stuck on some of the wards outside. They were going for surprise, didn't work out for them."
"The, ah, lady of the house is not very happy about it," the voice on the other end of the phone said. "This is going to be tough to explain. But not as tough as the bloodshed that's coming when they breach. It's only a matter of time."
He sounded grim. He didn't intend any of the blood shed to be his.
"We're twenty minutes out," Levi said. "Just hold on."
"Will do, brother."
"Let me talk to my mom," I said, a second after they hung up. "I can tell her what's going on so she knows they're on her side."
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Levi asked. "Your mom doesn't even know you're out of the asylum."
"She's sure as hell going to know something changed when I show up at her door with a sword in my hand," I said.
Levi considered that. "I'll call him back."
He had a brief conversation with the guy on the other end of the line. "They're busy," he said, glancing up from the phone. "Sorry, Ellis. They're watching the windows, raising more magic, they can't babysit your mom. She might call 9-1-1 if they leave her with a phone. We can't bring civilians into this."
"She's not going to hang up on me to call 9-1-1," I said. "I'll tell her help's on the way."
Levi shook his head. "Sorry, sweet girl."
"Do not tell me I can't talk to my mom and then call me sweet girl in the same breath."
"Would you stop being stupid?" Ryker demanded. "I'm about done right now, Ellis."
My cheeks flushed hot, and I leaned forward in the backseat, feeling my jaw set.
"Let's take it easy," Jacob said.
"Yeah." Levi nodded. "We're all tense. Emotions are high. We need to be focused on what happens when we arrive in..." he glanced at the clock in the dash. "Seventeen minutes. Let's talk through the plan."
"Okay," I agreed.
"Makes sense," Ryker said. His tone suggested he wouldn't have said that to any suggestion I made. But then he said, almost under his breath, "Sorry."
I ignored his apology. We had more important things to talk about. When we got there, we would stop on the street behind my house; I knew which yard connected with mine. Jacob and I would get into position, and Ryker and Levi would drive around the front of the house to take out the team in front. Jacob and I would attack from the rear.
"I wish I had my helicopter," Jacob said.
"No place to land in suburbia," Ryker said.
"It still scares people," Jacob said.
"The Company has their own helicopter," Ryker reminded us all.
"You think this is because of Ash?" I asked.
"Maybe your demon friend set this all off," Ryker said.
"He's not my friend."
"No? You go out and listen to him serenade you."
"He smashed his lute."
"He smashed his lute," Ryker repeated. "Well, he must be a good guy then."
"Let's stay on track," Jacob said sharply. "One team."
"What if they aren't just going after my mom?" I asked. "What if they go after my sister too?"
"Nash is there. Olivia and Zane should be on their way, too. Today is all hands on deck." Ryker told me.
Levi was watching the clock. "Five minutes."
Jacob unlatched his seatbelt and eased forward, sliding the harness for his sword over his shoulders. He adjusted the buckles quickly and then held my sword harness out for me. I shrugged the leather loops over my shoulders. I felt the weight of it through my shoulders, the long metal scabbard cold and awkward, canted against my spine in the confines of the car.
Jacob holstered his 9mm off his belt.
"I wish I weren't wearing active-wear," I grumbled. None of us had taken the time to change.
"Me too," Ryker promised me. "Basketball shorts wouldn't be my outfit of choice. But hey! You're wearing clothes today. That's a step up from usual."
"It's not my fault I always seem to end up in my bra when someone kidnaps me," I said.
"But it is awesome," he said.
The banter actually made some of the tension in my chest ease. There was something comforting about Ryker acting so typically Ryker.
"No getting kidnapped this time," Levi said. "The Company wants your mom to get to you. The other best way to get to you is just to take you."
"Thanks for the upbeat reminder."
"Two minutes."
My legs were jittery, the rush of adrenaline making them restless, aching.
Jacob rested his palm on my thigh, stilling my leg. "It's going to be okay. We won't let anything happen to your mom."
"I know." Or at least, I knew they would try, with everything they had. I was afraid they would get hurt, too. I leaned forward, my stomach aching with the tension. "This turn. This is the street behind mine."
Ryker took a hard right. We swayed against our seatbelts. He came to a stop at the house I pointed to. My hand, outstretched between the seats to point out the windshield, shook slightly, but no one said anything.
I unclasped my seatbelt and got out of the car. My legs felt weak and jittery, and I waited for the warrior to kick in. I didn't feel it, not today.
Levi jumped out of the car, surprising me. He cupped my shoulders with his hands, speaking urgently. "Wait five minutes to let us get around and start bringing down those wards."
"I know," I said.
"Ellis," he said. "You're our family. Your mom is, too. We will protect her with everything we have."
"I know," I said again, but those words meant so little compared to how I felt. I knew he meant it.
He nodded and jumped back into the car. Ryker did a quick turn in the cul de sac and they rocketed back down the street.
Jacob rested his hand on my shoulder, squeezing it quickly and comfortingly, before he pushed me gently forward. "Let's take cover."
The two of us skirted the edge of the house and headed for a shed at the back of the property. But when we reached the backyard, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye.
The man smoking a cigarette and drinking his coffee on the porch jumped to his feet at the sight of us. His mouth opened.
Jacob stretched out his hand. "Sleep."
The man stared at him, confused, and then Jacob leapt forward, catching him as he tumbled forward. Jacob gently laid him down on the deck, then picked up his cigarette and put it out on the cement strip of patio, before tossing it into the trash bucket.
I stared at him. "I didn't know you could do that."
"My gift is control," he said. "You knew that. Technically."
"But you don't..."
"I don't use it for a hundred reasons," he said, rubbing the back of his shoulder, wincing slightly. "The primary reason being I wouldn't want anyone to do it to me. Move now. Talk later, Princess."
Together, the two of us ran to the shed. Jacob knelt behind the edge of the shed, where he could glance out and see the narrow band of young trees that separated my yard from the neighbor's. Propping his raw-boned wrist on one knee, he watched the time.
I paced behind the shed, out of sight, unable to contain my restless energy.
"When we go, stay behind me," he said softly.
"Maybe you should stay behind me," I whispered. "I
throw the fireballs."
"Let's not set the neighborhood on fire," he said. "Your skill set's a little limited."
"It would help if people would stop trying to kidnap me long enough for me to study up."
Jacob nodded slightly. "I'm going to teach you everything I know. And so will Ryker and Levi. We'll get your outsides caught up with your badass inner self, don't worry."
"Ha," I said.
Jacob straightened, drawing his sword slowly, so that it barely made a whisper of metal on leather as he eased it out. He turned, wrapping an arm around my waist to pull me toward him.
"I meant when I said in the demon's case," he whispered, his breath in my hair. "You're already everything you need to be. You are a badass, even if your hands shake."
I stared at him. He was right, or at least, he could be. I could do this. No matter how scared I was, I was born to protect the innocent and to love these men. I nodded, because I couldn't tell him thank you for saying just what I needed to hear. If I made this any cheesier, Jacob might never talk to me again.
"Even if I worry you're going to cut yourself," he said, reaching behind me to draw my sword. I breathed in his scent of coffee and spice when he was this close to me. He flipped the sword around, holding the blade lightly so it wouldn't cut him, and offered me the hilt.
"You can never just be nice, can you?"
"I'm not a nice guy, Princess. Luckily, you have Levi for that." He checked his watch again, then looked up at me, those golden eyes cool and dispassionate. "Let's go kill some Company men."
11
Jacob and I stayed within a few yards of each other as we made a run through the trees. I felt some vine catch around my ankle, its thorns ripping my skin as I tore my foot away. I was moving too quickly to do anything but trip forward and run on. My momentum carried me now.
The adrenaline coursing through my body took over. The jittery weakness in my legs and arms turned into energy. The world around me was a blur of action and light as we burst out of the trees for the back porch of the house.
There were two Company men there, one of them incanting to take down the wards. They had etched runes with a knife into my mother's beloved porch, The man held his arms up in the air, praying steadily.
The other man saw us coming, knelt behind what cover the porch railing had to offer, and drew on us. He braced his gun in his outstretched hands, and I saw it kick up in slow motion as he fired, before I even heard the pop of the round. The noise was distant through the hum of blood in my ears.
"Get down," Jacob said, shoving me forward. The two of us hit the ground hard, and I felt the force of it knock the air out of my lungs. "Up, up, before he gets a bead on us. Hope he's a fucking stormtrooper. I need to get within twenty feet of them."
I stumbled up, running as fast as I could, but Jacob pulled away ahead of me, his long legs sprinting across the grass. He hit the ground hard, just as the gun went off again, and then I saw him get back on his feet and run again.
"Fire ball," I said softly as I ran behind him, hoping the words would help me summon the magic faster than I ever had in training. I hit the ground again, knowing that it was our best chance to evade a bullet. As I pushed off the grass, I felt the flicker of warmth in the palm of my hand like an itch.
Jacob was nearing the porch, but that meant he was dangerously close to the handgun's range. I saw the glint of the metal barrel, focusing on Jacob. I hurled the fireball over his head. Jacob ducked as if he realized it was coming. He turned to look over his shoulder with dismay written across his face. Like he didn't trust me not to singe him.
The fireball blazed hot and bright as it tumbled end-over-end. It smashed into the shirt of the man with the gun in a burst and crackle of flame. He screamed as his shirt went up, catching fire. The man incanting suddenly realized how dire things were and broke off, grabbing for the gun the other man had just dropped.
"Sleep," Jacob said, holding out his hand. The man reaching for the gun staggered to his knees, holding out the gun, and then dropped it. He slumped forward.
The man who was running around trying to beat out the flames on his shirt, though, didn't pay Jacob's suggestion any mind.
"Or die," Jacob said, jumping onto the porch and running the man through with his sword. "Makes no difference to me."
"You really aren't a nice guy." I leaned down, smacking out the last of the flames before they could set the place on fire. It would be too ironic to burst back into my mother's life and set her house on fire like she'd feared I would do before she sent me away.
I stepped over the body. Jacob held up his hand toward the back door, his eyes on those shimmering black tattoos marking his forearms. "Wards are down. Let's go."
I tried the doorknob. "It's locked."
Jacob nodded and took a step back, bracing his hands on the porch railing. He threw himself forward, kicking hard into the door, and it flew open.
"I'm usually a little more subtle than that when I break into a house," he told me. "Stay behind me."
"Stop saying that," I said, exasperated.
"Stop not listening."
It was weird to follow Jacob into my own house, a place I hadn't been since my mother locked me out, giving me up to the Company. The hallway was quiet and still. I could see down the length of the hallway to the foyer, where the crystal chandelier seemed to sway above the hardwood floor, rocked by the energy of battle outside. I could hear gunfire in the front yard.
"Cops should be here soon," Jacob said. "We need to get your mom, break contact and get out of here. Where would you shelter in this house?"
"The master bedroom, probably. You could escape onto the roof if you needed to, or hunker down in the windowless closet."
Jacob nodded. "You get your way this time, Princess. Lead on."
As we ran up the stairs, he called out, "Tyson, Neal. It's Jacob Kerr. Hold your fire."
"That makes me feel less happy about being the lead," I muttered.
"You asked." He steered me to one side with his hand on my shoulder as I reached the top of the stairs, angling his body in front of mine. I'd just been bantering. I hadn't intended for him to shield me. Even though I knew by now that was his nature.
"It's Jacob Kerr," he called again. He scratched his tattoos with his sword hand, just for a second, wincing. "And you put up the wrong fucking wards, you assholes."
"Sorry!" The master bedroom door opened. A Hunter, a middle-aged man who was heavily muscled with dark hair and a sawed-off shotgun, stood in the doorway. "Looks like we've got back-up," he said over his shoulder.
A woman, slight with a blond pixie cut, emerged beside him. "If you two can hold here," she said softly, "We'll help with the fight in the front."
"Got it," Jacob said. The two of them passed him, moving down the stairs, as he muttered, "Of course, I'll be here in freaking agony. Ellis, I can't go much further than this unless you need me. Desperately. Go check on your mom."
"Going," I said.
I ran down the hallway, past the closed doors to my childhood bedroom and Ash's. My mom had closed Ash's door, preserving the room the way it was the night we left the house for prom: her jeans and sweatshirt thrown over the foot of the bed, a haphazard pile of paperbacks on the nightstand, a secret stash of Hershey kisses under the bed.
I wondered if Mom had done the same for my room, giving me up for dead when she gave up on me, but keeping my room sacred for the memories. I wondered if she ever went in there, missing me. I'd seen her kneeling next to Ash's bed so many times, her eyes red and swollen. If our eyes met as I passed the open doorway, she'd flash me a look that was pure anger. Just the memory of it felt like a physical ache.
I walked into my mother's room, and it took me a second to find her. Her room looked almost the way it had before, sending a wave of nostalgia over me: her four-poster bed made up with a fluffy white duvet, the TV over the long, white, antique French dresser. The three of us used to squeeze into her bed for movie nights, with my mother
grumbling when Ash and I dropped popcorn in her sheets. The only thing that had changed was the wall covered in tacked-up papers.
The faintest motion caught my eye, over by the door to the closet. My mother jerking her head, the little bit that she could. The good guys had tied her to a chair, and there was duct tape over her mouth.
Well, I could understand that impulse.
"Mom," I said, running to her. Her eyes widened even further when she saw me. I didn't know how to take that. Was she angry?
Scared?
I mean, I was standing there with a sword in my hand. The Normal Ellis she knew had obviously left the building.
Her wrists were taped to the arms of the chair. "I'll be careful," I promised her as I worked the blade between the tape and the arm of the chair. I made sure to direct the force of the blade away from her. I cut her wrists, and then as she reached up to get the tape off her mouth, I stepped back.
She ripped the tape away, wincing. The skin around her lips was red.
I expected her first words to be what the hell's going on.
Instead, she threw herself at me and hugged me tight.
"Ellis, Ellis," she said softly. For a second, it sounded like she was too choked up to speak. "I thought I'd never see you again."
I hugged her back, a second belatedly. My mother's scent of Chanel No. 5, same as when I was a kid, washed over me. I struggled to reconcile this hug with how she'd deserted me a few weeks before, afraid my magic would burn the house down and kill her, too. No, most of all, she had been afraid that I had killed Ash.
Slowly, my eyes focused on the wall behind her. She'd taped newspaper clippings and photos and print-outs to the wall; I could see my mother's neat handwriting and arrows connecting things across the wall.
"You never let me hang anything on my wall," I said. "I even had to put my posters in frames. It was weird."
I could feel her shoulders heave, and I looked at her in panic, afraid I'd made her cry. But then I realized her red mouth was parted in laughter.
"You never change," she said fondly.
I wouldn't have expected my mother to say that fondly.