His sister had no idea what she’d put into motion. Quinn pulled her into his arms. How was he supposed to explain that by killing an angel (one who deserved it) Jordan had started a war that could only end with her death?
Tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, Quinn placed a kiss on her forehead.
The simple truth was, he couldn’t.
Ivy and the guy he didn’t know approached with caution. Quinn guessed Gabe had something to do with their tight shoulders and halted steps. He was an angel, after all, and they had all seen firsthand what those bastards were capable of.
“You must be Ivy,” his Guardian said by way of a greeting. He gave a small smile when the Cambion frowned and retreated a few steps.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Gabe continued, “but I do need to speak with you…in private.” When Ivy cocked her head, uncertainty as evident as her ebony-colored hair, he said, “Please, it’s important,” and looked pointedly at Jordan.
Quinn watched throat muscles work under her smooth skin, and then Ivy walked to a battered table several feet away and stood stiffly, waiting.
Gabe started to follow, then stopped and looked at the boy, as if just noticing him. “Who are you?” he asked.
The handsome young man didn’t appear at all nervous. He offered his hand and said, “My name is Xander. You must be Gabriel. It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”
“Really?” Quinn and Gabe answered in unison.
“What?” Xander, asked. “Did I say something wrong?”
“I think,” Jordan said, sniffing, “they’re surprised to hear a Cambion say that meeting an angel – especially an archangel – is a pleasure.”
Xander smiled sheepishly. “Oh. Well, I’ve never felt particularly evil.” He shuffled his feet. “I mean, I’ve never felt like I belonged in that camp…in any camp, really.”
“Interesting,” Gabe said. “Maybe you should join Ivy. We can use all the help we can get.”
When Xander’s confused eyes met Quinn’s, he shook his head slightly – a cue not to question anything in front of Jordan. The young man seemed to understand.
“What’s Gabe talking to them about?” Jordan asked, snuggling against Quinn’s side. “And where’s Uncle Case and Nathan?”
Quinn pulled her closer. God, what were they gonna do?
“I’m sure they’re back at the house,” he said. “Gabe promised to keep them safe. He wouldn’t be here if they weren’t.” Mentally, Quinn sighed. “As for what they’re discussing, Gabe is probably recruiting them into our little army. There’s bound to be some pissed-off demons now that you’re not stuck under their asses anymore, and Michael–”
“–Michael can sit and spin,” she finished. “I don’t give a damn how many soldiers he sends, I’m not his property.”
Quinn couldn’t help but smile. “So,” he said, laying his head on top of hers. “Wings, huh?”
They had disappeared to wherever wings go, but he could still see them in his mind, regal and amazing.
“I guess so,” Jordan answered.
“They suit you.”
And Quinn realized that they did. Jordan was exactly as Illyria described her – a sort of Phoenix, changing, becoming something more. He just prayed that whatever happened, she would remember that she would always be Jordan first.
“I love you,” he said.
It felt good to be able to say that now. For so many years, Quinn had been afraid to let her know just what she meant to him. Now, he didn’t have to pretend or push her away. If the prophecy was right, Jordan needed to know now more than ever how much he cared, how much they all cared.
“I love you, too.”
Jordan kissed his cheek, and then released a bone-cracking yawn. Dark smudges framed her tired green eyes which were shot through with red lines like a road map.
Quinn took her hand, marveling over how much smaller it was.
“Let’s go home.”
“Home sounds good.” Jordan’s smile diminished the pallor of exhaustion that blanched her face.
Quinn stood up – a little dizzy but otherwise okay – and pulled her to her feet. Jordan tottered on unsteady legs.
“Am I going to have to carry you, Superwoman?”
“Ha-ha.” She punched him on the arm. “Be quiet or you’ll not only carry me, but make me breakfast, too.”
“How about a compromise,” he said. “I’ll carry you for as long as you need me to…” Quinn paused to make sure she knew he was being serious. The sudden tears that sprang to her eyes told him she did. “But, we’ll make Nathan fix breakfast.”
Jordan hiccupped and found a smile. “Okay.”
Then she grabbed her head in both hands and screamed.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Jordan
The pain was excruciating, like someone pounding on her head with a mallet while driving a foot-long spike through it. Unable to function through the pain, Jordan swayed like a felled tree and hit the floor on her side.
Oh, God, let me die! Please, anything – just make it stop!
She heard yelling. Someone pulled her onto their lap – probably Quinn – and the small amount of jostling it caused made her lean over blindly and puke.
Gabe’s face appeared like a mirage. His eyes were argent, gas-flame blue, his hands aglow with the power of a lighthouse. He looked terrified as he placed them upon her head.
The pain crawled down her body with the teeth and claws of a raptor. Ripping, chewing, it swallowed her inch by grievous inch.
“What’s happening?!” she heard Ivy scream. Her voice sounded far away and then much too close, as if she were hearing her through a cheap radio with sketchy reception. “You didn’t say it would be like this!”
“I didn’t know,” Gabe answered, his face grave.
Jordan had no idea what they were talking about. She concentrated on the creeping thing causing her such agony. It moved slowly to her chest and she held her breath, waiting…waiting…
It tunneled into her heart. The organ stammered, then seized. Her toes curled and limbs went stiff as she rolled off of Quinn’s lap and fought to stay conscious. The thing hollowed out a niche and, as it squirmed and pulled its way inside, her heart seemed to swell until she thought it would burst.
Time was immeasurable. Jordan didn’t know how long she lay on the floor, slaving for every breath, tangled in an invisible fight she couldn’t win. Eventually, the creeping thing settled down. Her heart rate returned to a normal pace, and the pain abated. She wiped at the sweat stinging her eyes and looked around. Her family leaned over her, concerned faces peering down at the condemned.
“Can you sit up?” Xander ask.
His face was chalk-white, tracks from the tears he’d shed still wet, glistening in the morning sun. Shaking hands hovered above her heart and Jordan knew he was partly responsible for stopping her pain.
“Yes, I think so.”
He bent to help her and she stood on legs as wobbly as the foundation of a brothel house. Everyone surrounded her in a group hug but no one asked what happened. No one inquired about the scene she’d just reenacted from The Exorcist.
Jordan pulled away, taking in watery eyes and lost expressions. Ivy worked her bottom lip with her teeth. Quinn crossed and uncrossed his arms. Gabe looked up toward Heaven and mumbled under his breath – desperate tics that accompany tragic news. Xander was the only one who met her gaze without flinching.
They didn’t ask because they already know.
With that realization came a voice. It slid into her head and melted all of her thoughts like chocolate on the tongue.
Come to me, Jordan.
His voice was as fluid as the delta and Jordan found herself riding waves of saccharine and silk. The others disappeared from the room and his face was the only one she saw.
I can’t, she thought, knowing he would hear. I have to be with my family.
Your family will not understand. They’ll pretend to love you on the surface
but there is a rift between you now – one that can never be repaired. They are Slayers at heart. Do you really believe they’ll accept you now that demon blood runs in your veins?
Jordan pushed at the veil covering her eyes and searched for Quinn. Instead, she saw herself running through a twilight wood. Briars and scrubs tore snatches of her skin as she raced by, but she barely noticed the blood they drew. An angry wind howled overhead, shaking the oaks and pines. Their shadows danced on the straw-covered ground – gnarled fingers that reached for her in the moonlight.
Behind her, Jordan heard the deep growl of men’s voices and the baying of dogs. They were getting closer. Frantic, she bulled through a stream, slipping on smooth stones and soaking her jeans. The cold water made her gasp but she pressed on, knowing that time was playing for the opposite team this night.
At the bank, she grabbed handfuls of choking weeds and attempted to pull herself up its steep, muddy side. Using her knees instead of her feet, Jordan made progress but the going was slow. Several times, the weeds broke off in her hands, causing her to slide backward and lose the ground she had just managed to gain.
And still, the dogs kept coming. When the wind paused to gather its breath, Jordan could hear the sound of scattering leaves as they ran, their cries changing in tone when the trail grew stronger. Behind them, the men on the hunt whooped and urged the hounds. They knew she was close.
The bank was too steep. She’d never make it to the top before the dogs were on her. With a groan, Jordan slid back down to the bottom. Even at its shallowest, the icy water lapped over the top of her boots. Teeth chattering, she pushed down stream, hoping the dogs would lose her scent. She spotted a bend up ahead and knew she must get around it or risk being seen. She pushed her exhausted muscles but they had given her all they could. She slogged on anyway. What other choice did she have?
Just as she reached the bend, dogs erupted from the woods, howling for all they were worth. Risking a look back, Jordan saw them sniffing feverishly at the spot where she entered the stream. Two men ran to join them. They snapped leashes on the dogs’ collars and led them up and down the bank, coaxing them like one would a confused child.
As quietly as possible, Jordan moved around the curve. She hoped to find a place where the bank’s grade was passable and get back on dry land where she could move faster. When she spotted a section by the water where the soil had eroded beside a poplar tree, she thought she might have a chance. Grabbing the ridged bark with both hands, Jordan used it as an anchor to pull herself out of the stream.
She managed another fifty feet before her legs buckled. She tumbled down a slope and landed in a depression underneath a large, thorny bush. From its size and shape, Jordan guessed it to be the den of an animal. She lay there, breathing in the chilly night air laced heavily with the tang of iron and musk.
The sudden crack of a twig was her only warning before a massive hand reached in, grabbing a fistful of her shirt. Jordan twisted, reaching for something to hang on to, but the man was bigger, stronger. He jerked her from the hidey-hole, scraping her face and hands on long spines that covered the shrub.
When she was clear, Jordan’s eyes travelled up, taking in well-worn boots, jeans, a plaid shirt, and shoulders that could collapse a doorway. She didn’t need to see his face to know who stood over her, waiting to take her life – but she had a hard time believing it.
“Please,” she begged. “Don’t do this.” Warm tears quickly cooled as they ran back into her matted hair. “I’m not the monster you think I am.”
There was a glint of silver, but Jordan chose to concentrate on the youthful face, tousled hair, and hazel-green eyes she knew so well – the ones that always seem to be smiling, but not tonight.
The moon illuminated the deadly arc of the blade as it swung down. “I love you,” she whispered right before it sank into her throat.
And Nathan’s face, wrenched and marred with hate, winked once in her faltering vision like a dying star, and faded away.
<><><>
No! Jordan shrieked in her head, shoving the vision away. My brother loves me. That will never happen.
But it will. You are different now, and they will come to see just how much. Awkwardness will lead to fear. Fear will lead to resentment. In the end, they’ll kill you to save their own sanity. And then, there is the prophecy.
What fresh hell was this? Wary, positive that she didn’t want to know but had no choice, Jordan asked, What prophecy?
There was a pause and static filled her head. She didn’t think he was going to answer. Part of her was relieved, but the feeling was short lived.
It is written in the book – the one Michael is so desperate to get his hands on. It speaks of a Paladin who falls when she slays an angel. One of the greatest sins among celestial beings is for one to take the life of another. According to the prophecy, when the Paladin falls, it starts a holy war between angels and demons. Unfortunately, much of this war takes place on earth and humans…well, humans pay the biggest price.
Confused, Jordan said, But I did nothing wrong! Illyria tried to kill my brother. Surely, Heaven has rules. Angels can’t just swoop down and kill innocent humans because it’s more convenient than negotiating.
It isn’t so much that you killed her, but why. If you acted out of self defense or to protect an innocent, the prophecy will not come to pass-
-I did! Jordan said.
But, he went on, if you killed her out of anger – for revenge – that is a sin. You are not allowed to play judge, jury, and executioner when it comes to an angel. When you struck her down, you thought your brother was dead.
Yeah, so? He was still innocent of any crime. With a rapidly sinking heart, Jordan wondered where he was going with this.
You can’t justify killing the angel with a claim of defending an innocent when you believed the innocent was already dead.
And there it was, her sin displayed for the entire world. She may as well be wearing one of those sandwich boards around her neck with big letters spelling out, I KILLED ILLYRIA BECAUSE I WANTED HER TO FUCKING PAY FOR WHAT SHE DID TO MY BROTHER!!! It was so obvious Stevie Wonder could see it, and the hornblowers upstairs would, too.
What if you’re lying?
She’d give one of her kidneys, her Mustang, and every Daughtry CD she owned for him to admit he was. Somehow, she didn’t think she’d have to mourn the lack of her favorite band’s music or worry over the condition of her blood because one kidney may not get the job done.
Ask your Guardian and your brother if you must, but once they confirm what I’ve told you, it is imperative that you come to me. You killed an angel. Michael hunted you enthusiastically before but that is nothing compared to what he’ll do now. He will be ruthless. Because you are part angel, he will think he has the right to oversee your punishment. Because you are part demon, we will not allow it.
Michael will poison the minds of your human family. In turn, they will destroy your Cambion family one by one, making you watch…and then, they will kill you. The earth will burn. Many humans will die–”
Shut up! Jordan screamed.
She didn’t want to hear anymore. He had to be lying. She could understand her actions causing a holy war if she was some big-time demon who killed every innocent and angel she came across, but she was only a teenager – one who acted in the best interests of her family. If she hadn’t killed Illyria, the angel may have gone for Ivy next. It wasn’t her fault!
Jordan, you are not to blame. Unlike angels, you understand the importance of family and the desire to keep yours safe. He huffed and the sound bounced around in her head like a pinball. And they call us monsters.
There may be a way to stop this but I will need your help. I can protect you here, and your family will be safe with Gabriel. We’ll find a way to make it right.
The world came back to her in a rush of sound and light. Quinn was shaking her arm, yelling in her face. When she made eye contact, he sucked in a deep breath and let it ou
t slowly.
“I swear to God, Jordan, you’re gonna be the death of me! I’ve been calling your name for the past five minutes. Are you okay?”
Instead of answering, she turned to Gabe. “Is there a prophecy about me in that book?”
Her Guardian neither confirmed nor denied her query. When she saw the tentative glance he threw around the room to everyone else, he didn’t have to.
Jordan’s blood turned to ice.
“There is, isn’t there?” she asked. “When I killed Illyria, I…fell. I committed the ultimate sin that will start a war and you said nothing! Why didn’t you tell me?!”
Her voice was loud enough to bring down what was left of the ceiling. The sheer power of it caused everyone, including Gabe, to flinch.
“I had a right to know! This is my life, dammit, but because an angel and a demon possessed my parents, everything I do now has a consequence. My one act of vengeance will be the death of countless humans and it could have been prevented if you’d just told me the truth!”
Anger bubbled inside her like an unwatched pot of potatoes left too long on the burner. It spilled over the sides, hissing and spitting when it touched her core. Jordan’s eyes blazed pearl-white. She was in demon mode now.
Gabe held up his hands, a placating gesture that did nothing to ease her fury. “Let me explain.”
“Now you want to explain?” she asked. “Too little too late, Gabe.”
“Listen to me!” His eyes went from golden hazel to gleaming blue in a flash, irritating her more. “If you killed Illyria to protect Quinn there is nothing to worry about. It was in defense of an innocent.”
She laughed at his false hope even though part of her wanted to curl up and die. She felt a shift in her psyche that was both exhilarating and frightening. Love and Hate tugged her in opposite directions, both promising her something if they won.
“I thought he was dead,” she spat, hurling the words like daggers. “I wanted her to pay for what she did! There were no thoughts of protecting anyone by the time I made the decision to fry her – there was only revenge.” She flung her head back and screamed up at the heavens. “Did you hear that, you bastards? I killed your precious Aeon because she deserved it!”
Refracted (The Celadon Circle Book 2) Page 29