Refracted (The Celadon Circle Book 2)

by Nicole Storey

  “If she kills an angel in defense – her own or to protect someone else – there is hope for her soul. If she kills the angel in a blind rage, Jordan will belong to Evil.”

  “There’s too many if’s. We need to know for sure, Gabe. This is her life we’re talking about. Not to mention all this could bring a war down on our heads.”

  The puzzle was slowly coming together but missing key pieces still made it impossible to see the picture as a whole. For days, a nagging feeling had buzzed in the back of Quinn’s mind – an irritating mosquito he kept swatting at. It would go away for a while and he’d forget, only to have it come back with a vengeance.

  When Quinn’s cell rang an hour later, he snatched it off the table, eager to silence Nathan’s assigned ringtone. “Fly From Heaven” by Toad sounded ominous under the circumstances. Gabe practically folded in on himself. Any phone call they received now was bound to be important and, more than likely, bad news.

  Quinn put the phone on speaker.

  “Hey,” he answered, “what’s up?”

  His brother’s voice was easy, upbeat. “Uncle Case asked me to call. He would have, but he’s busy sending Lucas and his boys on their way. He wants you and Gabe to come home.”

  Across the room Gabe smiled. Quinn, however, had doubts.

  “What changed his mind?”

  “Now, don’t get mad…” Nathan began.

  Quinn groaned. When his brother began a sentence that way, what followed afterward usually pissed him off.

  “I told him about Jordy’s call.”

  “Great.” Sometimes, Quinn hated being right. “You did exactly what I asked you not to do.”

  “He had a right to know! Jordan is like a daughter to him.” Nathan’s tone was condescending. “Frankly, I’m surprised you wanted to keep Case in the dark. I knew you were ticked at him, but that’s low, even for you.”

  “Don’t go there,” Quinn growled. “You know damn well the only reason I wanted to keep it from him was so he wouldn’t blab to Lucas. He didn’t, did he?”

  “Give him a little credit. Uncle Case isn’t stupid.”

  “Really? Because I haven’t forgotten why I left in the first place, Nathan.”

  In the background, Quinn heard the sound of typing.

  “I didn’t call to argue,” his brother said when the clicking of keys stopped. “Are you coming home or not? I could use your help. Case still doesn’t know about the prophecy. ”

  Though his uncle had rubbed him the wrong way, Quinn knew every decision Case made was with their best interests at heart. The details of the prophecy could very well send him over the edge. Quinn needed to be there. The only hope they had of making it through this was to stand together.

  “I’ll get packed,” he said. “We’ll be there in about an hour.”

  <><><>

  Background music replaced conversation in the car. While Bob Seger advised him to turn the page, Quinn thought about the impending reunion with his uncle and Gabe watched the passing scenery.

  Case accused Quinn of falling back on old ways – unable to trust others – when he’d tried to warn him of Lucas’ intentions. A faint echo of pain rippled within.

  Turn the page, Bob sang. Quinn felt he had. He wanted to begin a new story but no one could forget the old one.

  When he and Gabe arrived in Dixon’s Bluff, Quinn made a quick stop at the only convenience store still open to grab some beer. He called home on the land line to see if they needed anything else but didn’t get an answer. That wasn’t unusual. If Nathan and Case were upstairs, outside, or in the basement, it was difficult to hear it ring. Next, he called Nathan’s cell. It rang several times and went to voicemail. Quinn didn’t leave a message. Frowning, he called his uncle’s phone. It didn’t ring at all, going straight to voicemail as if he’d it turned off. It was late but not that late.

  Something was wrong.

  Quinn left the case of beer on the counter and rushed outside to the Mustang.

  “What’s wrong?” Gabe asked.

  Quinn cranked the Mustang, revving the engine. The only other patron in the lot, Terry Simpson, who kept late hours at the small gym he owned, turned and stared. When he saw it was Quinn, the man shook his head and went back to pumping his gas. Sometimes, living in a small town had its perks. Everyone knew everyone. When he laid rubber squealing out of the parking lot, Terry didn’t bat an eyelash.

  Quinn quickly explained the situation.

  “And the fact that they didn’t answer their phones is cause for alarm?”

  Quinn glanced sideways. Gabe swayed back and forth in the passenger seat as he took turns at break-neck speed. Of course, after flying with wings, riding in a speeding car was probably no big deal.

  Showoff.

  “We keep our phones near us at all times. One of them should’ve answered.” He pulled his cell from the case attached to his belt and flipped it to Gabe. “Call them again – numbers 1 and 2 on speed dial.”

  The phone rang before Gabe could press a button. The screen glowed, bathing the interior of the car in a peaceful blue light. The name “Uncle C.” appeared on the small display and Quinn reached for the phone when Gabe passed it back, quietly berating himself for overreacting. His relief was so great his hands shook, and Quinn swerved into the parking lot of Fred Limberg’s Farmers’ Market. Headlights lit up the front of the store, which was decorated with pumpkins, scarecrows, and Halloween décor. It was one of Jordan’s favorite places to shop. Now, it was dark. Fred had long since rolled up the sidewalk and closed for the day.

  “Hey,” Quinn asked, answering the call. “Where were you when I called?”

  “Tending to more important matters.”

  The voice did not belong to Case or Nathan. Quinn’s stomach twisted into a hard knot of fear. He hit the speakerphone and said, “Lucas? Where’s Case?”

  Muffled shouts were followed by the meaty, smacking sound of fists on flesh. Quinn gripped the phone so tight the plastic casing cracked.

  “Sorry ‘bout that,” Lucas drawled. He sucked on his teeth and Quinn clenched his jaws. “He’s tied up at the moment.”

  Someone in the background laughed and hollered, “Yep, he’s tied up real good!”

  Quinn looked at Gabe, who nodded and teleported. Lucas’ spoke again.

  “Now, here’s what we’re gonna do. You’re gonna come to the house and bring me that nifty book. Once I have it, me and my boys’ll leave, real peaceful-like, and you and your family can get on with your lives.”

  “Why in the name of Papa Smurf’s blue ass would I do that?”

  Grinding his teeth, Quinn listened, helpless, as more punches were thrown amidst grunts of pain and suppressed curses.

  Hurry, Gabe. Please, hurry!

  “He’s had enough, Brody,” Lucas directed to his son. “We got orders not to rough ‘em up too much.”

  “Orders from who?!” Quinn yelled. “I swear on my mother’s grave, if you hurt them I’ll reach down your throat and remove your fucking spleen. Wonder how long it would take for you to suck that out of your teeth?”

  Lucas snorted. “You done now?”

  “I’m just getting started. Wait ‘til I get to my house. I’m gonna stomp a mud hole in you big enough for your sons to drown in.”

  “Well, in the meantime, I suggest you shut your mouth and listen. Who I get my orders from is none of your business. All you need to know is that she’s one sadistic bitch who’ll kill your family and enjoy a short glass of whiskey when she’s done.” He paused and then asked, “Do I have your attention now?”

  “Yes,” Quinn spat.

  Where was Gabe?

  “Good. I want you to drive up to the front porch, slowly exit your car with both hands in the air, and one of them better be holding that book. We’ll have guns on you, so no tricks. Lay the book on the ground, turn with your back to the porch, and then get on your knees.”

  “I don’t know, Lucas; that sounds kind of kinky to me.”

&n
bsp; “Is this a joke to you, Quinn? Guess I’ll have to show you just how serious I am.”

  A loud clattering noise came over the line, then a single gunshot.

  “You bastard!”

  Bile rose up his gullet with the force of a geyser. Quinn flung open the door to the Mustang and retched on the ground. The world outside spun in his vision.

  Lucas’ hee-haw laugh assaulted his ears. “That was a warning shot – the next one won’t be. Get your ass to the house, Quinn. Now.” The line went dead.

  He couldn’t wait for Gabe. Quinn snatched the keys from the ignition and went around to the trunk. Opening the secret compartment, he removed a shotgun and a Smith and Wesson 45. After a quick check to make sure both were loaded, he stuffed extra shells and bullets in the pockets of his bomber jacket.

  Back on the road, he focused on The Oraculum. Quinn couldn’t hand it over to those rednecks. In the wrong hands, the book could be as deadly as the Bubonic Plague. It was important, yes, but he wouldn’t risk Nathan and Case’s lives for it.

  He turned away from their small business district and passed the squat building that housed the sheriff’s department. There were three vehicles in the parking lot, including Wellard Briggs’ old Blazer.

  Though Sheriff Briggs was an ally, it never crossed Quinn’s mind to stop. The tough old bird knew what they did for a living and tried to help when he could, but Quinn would never put him or his three deputies at risk. Outside help was hard to find when you hunted monsters. Theirs was a relationship carefully balanced on trust and, for the most part, need-to-know information only. Wellard had once told them if an extra gun was ever needed, they could give him a call. So far, they had managed without cashing in that favor, and wanted to keep it that way.

  The driveway leading to the house came into view. Quinn shut off the headlights, turned in, and stopped. He looked around, hoping to spot a place to hide the book. He had no idea if Lucas or one of the boys was close by, watching.

  He couldn’t show up without the book. Nathan and Case were tied up and would be no help. Quinn had had worse odds than three on one before, but not when a family member’s life hung in the balance.

  He took a few cleansing breaths and put the car in gear. Just as the house came into view, Gabe reappeared in the passenger seat. Quinn yelped and slammed on the brakes.

  “Shit! Wear a bell or something, Gabe.”

  The angel’s face was bleak. “You have to get out of here.”

  “I know it’s bad but surely we can take down three rednecks.” In Quinn’s opinion, Gabe more than tipped the scales in their favor.

  “If it was just Lucas and his sons, then yes, but they aren’t alone.”

  “Who’s with them?”

  “Illyria.” Gabe cursed under his breath and Quinn sat up straighter, peering through the inky blackness toward the house. “She’s Michael’s first in command – a ruthless Aeon who would gladly kill Casen and Nathan just for a rush.”

  “Why is she here?” Quinn asked. Just what they needed, an angel who was mad as March with a penchant for thrill kills. Michael sure knew how to pick ’em.

  “From what I gathered while spying, she pretended to be a demon. Michael’s plan was for her to keep your family busy by sending you to chase red herrings while other members of his army looked for Jordan. She recruited Lucas and his boys to help.”

  It didn’t make sense. As much as he detested Lucas, Quinn didn’t think he would help the angels unless…

  ”What’s in it for him?” he asked.

  “Michael promised to bring his wife back.”

  Quinn grimaced. “Really? Angels do that?”

  “It has been done in the past, but only in special circumstances.”

  If Lucas was promised his wife, there would be no persuading him to change his mind.

  There’s a bit of darkness in everyone – makes no difference who or what you are – and desperation reveals it every time.

  Those were the words Lucas spoke the night he called and offered his help to find Jordan. He’d been referring to himself.

  “So, what now?” Quinn looked at Gabe, whose face was partially hidden in shadow. “I can’t take off and leave Case and Nathan. If that angel is as demented as you make her sound, she might kill them.”

  Gabe grabbed his arm. “Listen to me. She can’t get The Oraculum. Michael could use it to find Jordan and much more. Leave. Hide the book. I’ll take care of Illyria and her hired hands. I’m protected by the ward so she won’t detect my presence. I’ll surprise her.”

  “How did she even find out about the book?”

  “I don’t know. That’s not important right now. If she told Michael – and I’m sure she did – it is imperative that we keep it out of his hands.” Gabe squeezed Quinn’s arm. “I promise I won’t let anything happen to our family.”

  The porch lights blazed to life, bathing the yard in a sickly yellow glow that didn’t quite reach the car. Quinn squinted against the glare, looking for movement.

  The front door opened and a woman stepped out. Lavish brown hair fell like a river down her shoulders, and a black bodysuit hugged every curve. A scabbard hung across her back, the handle of what could only be a sword peeked from the top. She stared at the car.

  “Is that her?” Quinn asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

  “Yes.”

  “I bet you could bounce a quarter on that ass.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  If they weren’t in such dire straits, Quinn would have laughed. “I just mean that she’s hot…you know, nice to look at.”

  “Oh,” Gabe said. “Yes, I suppose she is attractive but I don’t see what that has to do with American currency.”

  There were no words.

  “Go – before she gets impatient and decides to come for you. She won’t wait much longer.” Gabe shifted slightly. “I’m going to teleport behind Case’s car. When you leave, she’ll more than likely give chase. I’ll intercede.”

  Quinn ran scenarios of what if through his mind, weighing the pros and cons. None of them ended well. “I can’t, Gabe. If you all die, I won’t be able to live with myself.” He looked at the porch. The angel paced like a tiger. “I’d rather be gutted with that sword than run away and leave it all on your shoulders.”

  The archangel smiled. “Families depend on each other – trust each other, right?”

  Quinn nodded.

  “When I walked away from orders, I hoped to have a chance to prove this is where I belong. Don’t take it away from me.”

  Illyria started down the steps. Time was up.

  “Go now, Quinn! Get as far away as you can and hide that book. As soon as I take care of things here, we’ll call you.”

  Gabe disappeared in a whoosh of invisible wings and, before the reality of what he was doing came crashing down, Quinn revved the engine and made a U-turn in the yard. Clods of dirt and grass flew into the air as the Mustang’s tires chewed up the ground. In the rearview, he saw Lucas and his sons rush outside.

  In the fading gleam of porch lights, the lines of hate etched into Illyria’s face were unmistakable. Her eyes narrowed at the retreating car. Quinn shuddered and pressed the gas harder to the floor.

  As he rounded the curve in the driveway that hid the house from view, the rearview showed two glowing figures facing off. Gabe had made his appearance. Quinn sent up a silent prayer for his family’s safety, switched gears, and sped away.

  He had no idea where to go.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Jordan

  Jordan rubbed her weary eyes. It was late and she was dead on her feet. While she had been talking with Gabe and Quinn, Mazie had called Ivy. During their conversation, the name of the hotel had been mentioned. That was all the information their youngest sister needed to find them.

  Before a call could be placed to Aamon, he called them. Ivy calmed their father while Jordan shot daggers at Mazie, who at least had the good sense to keep quiet. When she e
nded the call, Ivy pointed at the young girl and said, “Go home. Dad said if you are not there in five minutes, you’re grounded until the next great flood.”

  “I’m not going back.” Mazie said from her perch on the couch.

  Ivy snatched the girl’s X-Men book bag from the floor and dropped it in her lap. “Oh, yes you are. Gina’s gone – Dad kicked her out. There’s no reason you can’t stay there.”

  “She could come back!”

  Jordan sighed. “What happened?”

  Mazie’s brown eyes pleaded with her. “Gina threatened me. She told me I’d better watch my back – that you wouldn’t be there to protect me anymore.”

  “Why didn’t you tell Aamon?”

  “He wasn’t there.”

  Ivy tapped her foot. “He was there yesterday and today. Don’t bullshit us. You had plenty of chances to tell him.”

  “Not to mention I tried for two days to talk to you,” Jordan interjected.

  Mazie’s shoulders slumped. “I was mad,” she whispered.

  “And I was worried sick about you!” Jordan pursed her lips, breathing as hard as a bull. “You know what? I’m tired. I don’t care what you do. I’m going to bed.” To Ivy, she asked, “Will you call Aamon back and deal with this?” She massaged her temples. A headache was coming on strong. “I need to lie down.”

  Ivy frowned. “Sure, no problem. You okay?”

  Jordan’s faint smile transformed into a grimace as pain thumped behind her eyes. Cambions didn’t get sick or experience headaches. “Yeah, I just need some rest. I haven’t slept well the past couple of nights.” She threw Mazie a dirty look.

  Xander took over. “Go get changed. You can sleep in my bed tonight and Mazie can stay until morning. I’ll crash on the couch.”

  Jordan wanted to argue that it wasn’t fair for him to give up his bed but her head pounded in time with her heart. She nodded. “Thanks.”

  After changing into a long T-shirt, Jordan crawled into the comfortable bed and swaddled herself in the comforter. A soft knock came at the door. If it was Mazie, she would spank her butt. Dammit, she was exhausted.