She holds up the amulet around her neck. “Seems to be working great, I think, keeping all the bad energy back, or whatever, like Sid said it would.” She touches my chest where my amulet rests with her fingers. “How about you?”
I back up a little, and she pulls her hand away.
“Sorry,” she says, studying the floor now. Her copper hair falls like a curtain over her face. “I can’t help it.”
God, this is going to kill me. “Rebecca. Don’t be sorry. You and me . . . it’s just not good timing.”
“Because of Kara. I know you like her.”
I sigh. “There’s a lot going on. It’s not just Kara. My life’s a shit storm right now. The last thing you need is to get tangled up in it.”
She tilts her head a little. “It’s a bit late for that.”
“You need to go home as soon as you can and forget about me.”
“I won’t ever be able to forget you.” Tears glisten on her pale lashes. “And I know it’s you, Aidan—you’re the one I need. It doesn’t matter if you want that to be true or not. From the second I saw you sleeping beside my bed, I knew.”
She sounds so completely sure of this.
“I used to draw this angel,” she continues, her voice soft, “before Charlie died. Sunsets and crashing waves and fierce battles, and this angel was always in my work, golden and magical. Powerful.” She lowers her head, running a finger along the top of her sketchbook. “But after Charlie left me, I had nothing inside. I couldn’t see my angel anymore, you know?” She sniffs and wipes a tear from her face and smiles this odd smile at me. “Then you appeared in my life, and you talked to me, you gave a crap—it was almost like you were sent to me. And suddenly he was back, my angel, amazing and full of light. So I drew him again. But it wasn’t until the party that I realized . . .” She reaches into her sketchbook and pulls out a folded piece of paper and hands it to me. “It wasn’t an angel I was drawing. It was you.”
I unfold it and see the image of a young man surrounded by gold and silver lightning. He’s standing firm in a lake of fire, like he’s ready for battle, a dagger in his hand.
His marked hand.
“I drew this after I saw you at the school,” she says. “And look.” She points at the warrior’s chest where a small gold amulet rests.
My pulse speeds up.
“That’s the amulet you’re wearing right now,” she continues. “This is you. And it’s the same figure I’ve been drawing since I was thirteen.”
There are gashes on his arm like the ones healing on my arm right now from the demon’s claws. “Wow” is all I’m able to come up with.
She takes the image and folds it again before slipping it back into the pages of her sketchbook. She hugs it to her chest protectively. “We’re connected, Aidan. Somehow. I don’t know how. But it was true before I met you, and it’ll be true after I leave this place.”
Her words feel so much like Kara’s. How can this be happening to me with two girls at once? And it’s not like they’re just feeling it and I’m numb. It’s in me too, this urge. But I can’t be drawn to both of them. How the hell do you make a choice like that?
I blink at her, stuck.
Then she’s leaning in, pressing her lips to my cheek, before slipping into her room and shutting the door behind her, leaving me to my confusion.
Mom sits beside me on my bed, tucking me in. She brushes the hair from my forehead and touches her finger to the tip of my nose. There’s something different in her eyes tonight, something clearer. Like maybe she’s seeing me. Really seeing me.
“You’re such a strong boy,” she says, smiling down at me.
I grin, letting her glow warm me. “Like the Incredible Hulk?”
“Well, if you turned green, I’d probably have to take you to the doctor.”
I giggle and slip my hand into hers, squeezing tight. Her pulse is quick, the familiar ache in her skin still there. But there’s a determination in her that wasn’t there before. I see it, suddenly clicking into place.
“Can we have pizza tomorrow night?” I ask. Whenever we have pizza nights, Mom sits with me and we watch movies. I like the way she curls us up in the blanket together and then props the pizza box on our laps.
“Tomorrow night you’ll be putting Ava to bed early and having reading time.”
I frown at her, not liking that idea. Early reading time in bed means she’ll be in her circle. The glow I felt a second ago darkens.
She studies me, tears now glistening in her eyes. “I need you to be even stronger after tomorrow, Aidan.” A tear spills out and trails down her cheek. “Can you do that?”
“I can try,” I whisper.
“Don’t forget all the things I’ve shown you,” she says. She leans down and kisses my forehead. “God has you held tight.”
THIRTY-SIX
Something’s pecking. The sound lifts me from my dream into early morning light.
Tap tap tap on the window.
I open my eyes. There’s an object moving above my head.
I squint at it, wondering if I’m still dreaming. Because it looks like a book. Hovering over me.
What?
A pencil flies past, and its sharp point hits the window repeatedly. Tap tap tap.
I sit up in a rush, whacking the book and the pencil away and sending them clattering to the floor. “Ava!” She’s lying in bed, and there are several tiny red, blue, and green orbs hovering over her. Then I see a wrapper still in her hand—Peanut M&M’s—like she fell asleep eating them.
I scramble over to her and shake her shoulder. “Ava, wake up.”
She grumbles for me to go away, and the M&M’s keep hovering a foot over her chest. Something slides against the outside of the door, and I imagine more objects floating all over the house. And someone seeing them.
I close my eyes, trying to feel for her energy. There’s a slight whirring and a sort of silver smoke just over her chest.
I shake her shoulder again. “Control it, Ava. Lock it down.” Please don’t do this now.
She jolts straight up, gasping, like she’s coming up for air after a long dive. The M&M’s tink to the floor, and in the distance I hear the sound of falling objects all over the house: Thunk. Crash. Thud.
Shit.
I wait for the sound of bedroom doors opening or the creak of feet on the landing, but nothing comes. After counting to ten I can almost breathe again.
“That was weird,” Ava says.
“No kidding. It’s never happened before?”
“How would I know? I’m asleep.”
“You can do that when you’re awake, though.”
“Only when I mean to. I’ve been focusing on controlling it. I thought I was doing better.”
“You are,” I say. The last thing I need is for her to start getting scared or upset—that’ll only make control harder. “It takes time, though. And things are getting closer.”
She looks at me. “I wonder if it’s the spell. Could that make it harder, you think?”
“The spell?” My pulse quickens. Did she do others that I don’t know about?
“Yeah. You know, the looking spell, or the one I did to bind the amulet.” She reaches out and touches my hand. “I know you’re still angry about it.”
So she’s only done the two. Good. “Mostly because I wanted you to have it, not me.”
“You need it more. Rebecca told me about her brother. Something evil is after her, and it’s probably going to try and hurt you for helping her.”
She has no idea.
“We only have three days till your birthday, Ava,” I say. “This amulet could’ve solved everything for you this year—maybe forever.”
She shakes her head, looking suddenly weighed down. “Hiding who I am won’t solve anything. There’s so much more to this than we know
.”
Her words strike me as odd: who I am. Who does she think she is?
“You’re my sister. And I want you safe. With me.” I lean over and kiss her forehead, trying to get a sense of what’s going on in that mysterious mind of hers. “So quit running off. No more adventures until after your birthday passes. You have to stay on the property.”
She pecks me on the cheek before she pulls a book from her sheets and leans against the wall. Looks like a typical tween read: The Baby-Sitters Club. “Well, I won’t be sleeping any more tonight,” she says.
I go back to my bed and check my phone. “It’s six fifteen anyway—pretty much morning.”
She looks out the window, eyes distant. “It was fun last night, wasn’t it?”
I can’t help smiling at the memory of Holly shoving the Ho Ho up Lester’s nose. “Yeah.”
“You should stay here, Aidan. After my birthday. This could be your family.”
The air around me prickles. Even in the darkness of early morning her ratty hair seems to glow like a white halo, and with her tiny frame she looks like a glass doll washed ashore after a storm.
“Don’t think like that, Ava.”
She gives me a sad smile. “You’re right. Sorry.” But her words are empty. She doesn’t believe them.
I lie down again, wide awake. After a few seconds of staring, I sit back up.
“I’m going for a run,” I say and start to get dressed for the occasion.
Ava blinks at me from across the room. “You’re gonna run? When cops aren’t chasing you?”
“Very funny,” I say. “That was only once.”
She giggles, and my heart lightens a little.
“Okay, maybe twice,” I add, sticking my tongue out at her as I tie my new shoes.
THIRTY-SEVEN
I stand in the front yard stretching my legs post-run. The sun’s just over the horizon behind me, casting a warm glow onto crooked trees and weedy yards. Even the cracks in the sidewalk seem to add character to the neighborhood in this light. The cold morning air still stings in my lungs, but it’s a good sting. It feels like I ran several miles, but it was more like three times around the block. I obviously need to work out more.
Just as I’m about to walk up the pathway and into the house, something prickles at the back of my neck. My feet freeze. I glance slowly around me.
Then I spot it. Rebecca’s demon is across the street, about twenty yards away, under a tree, staring intently at the house.
It can’t see me, I tell myself. Or Rebecca.
The thing has to be seriously pissed that I’ve not followed instructions. It must know that Rebecca and I are together. I wonder what it’s thinking about its missing minion. Everyone knows a cornered beast is at its most dangerous.
I watch for several seconds, studying the curve of its broad shoulders, the way it huffs at the air like a bull. It shapes itself into the shadow of the tall bush behind it, keeping out of the light. It won’t be at full strength now, with the sunrise breaking over the horizon. But even at half strength, this thing could squish me like a bug if I tried anything.
Trapping it comes to mind—but even if it can’t see me, it will likely feel anything I try to do to lock it in place.
I breathe in deep and take a step toward it. I’m not sure exactly what I’m doing. I’m supposedly this amazing son of a prophet. Men have been sent through time to kill me. You’d think I’d have one power that could help me with this. But I’m coming up blank.
When I’m halfway across the street, someone calls from the house, “Aidan! Where you going?”
The beast’s head snaps to attention; its dark eyes scan the yard.
I freeze for a moment and then turn around.
It’s Jax—of course. “The meeting’s started. We’ve gotta get this thing talked through before Connor has to meet the gay guys at eleven.”
I wave my arms, trying to motion for him to shut up, but he just squints at me like an idiot.
“Are you having a seizure?” he asks. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
I give up and walk back toward the house. “Seriously, dude. You suck.”
“What’d I do?”
I stop at the porch steps. “Go inside. Give me a second, for crap’s sake.”
“Whatever, Touchy.” He walks into the house, leaving the door open.
I turn back to look for the demon, but it’s not there anymore. I scan the street, the shadows of neighboring yards. Nothing.
It’s gone. For now.
I shut the door behind me, and someone—Jax, I think—calls from the office, “Meeting’s in here!”
I don’t answer, just head for the stairs. But then Sid comes from the kitchen, stopping me.
“You’re back for the meeting,” he says, looking pleased.
“Just finished a run. Shower.”
“I got something for you.” He pulls out a roll of papers from his back pocket and hands them to me. He beams like he’s waiting for me to unwrap a gift.
I take the roll without opening it.
“It’s papers,” he says before I can read it over. “A birth certificate, adoption papers, and a Social Security number. A driver’s license will be forthcoming once you take the test. And you now have a brand-new last name.”
Jax comes up behind me. “What name’d ya get?”
I open the papers, feeling a twinge of amazement. “What’s all this for?”
“Well, I’m your legal adopted guardian now,” Sid says.
I look up at him.
“If you would like me to be, that is.” He points at the top page. “These papers will allow you to have a clean slate and for me to protect you under the law.”
Jax snatches the papers from my hand. “What’s your name, dude?”
After skimming the papers a moment, he smiles. “Aidan O’Fallan. Okay, Irish boy.” He shoves the papers at me and walks back to the office, saying, “We’ve got an Irish Jew with demon-snatching powers. Did anyone have money on Ireland?”
Sid smiles. “I tried to keep it as close to O’Linn as I could.”
“Thanks.”
“I got some for your sister as well.” He holds out a second roll. “I wasn’t sure how old she was, so I guessed that she was twelve. Is that all right?”
I take them and have to swallow the panic that rises at the sudden reminder of what’s coming in three days. Those floating objects this morning were a clear sign of her powers coming alive. A warning of what’s to come. “Where is she?” I ask.
“In the office. She wanted to join the meeting.”
I can’t seem to move. A part of me wants to tell him what’s happening. But something stronger in me holds the words in.
“I may have more for you, Aidan. If you want it.”
Is it a bomb shelter to hide my sister in for the next few days so she doesn’t accidentally bring the house down around us? Or perhaps a parallel universe that demons can’t get to?
“What is it?” I ask.
“Your mother’s family. But I don’t want to tell you unless you’re sure.”
I glance toward the office—no sign of listening ears. I sit on a step and ready myself. “What did you find?”
He sits beside me and shows me a scrap of paper with an address on it. “Her name is Laura O’Linn, and she’s your great-grandmother.”
“My great-grandmother,” I echo. “What about my grandma?”
“She died when your mother was about three. Suicide. Your mother was raised by her grandparents. Your great-grandma is the only one left alive.”
I have a great-grandmother. I have family.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I had my connection mention LA Paranormal to her. Apparently she’s been having some trouble lately with a ghost in her TV or something—she could just be v
ery old and not fully there. But I thought it would be a good way for you to connect with her. We could offer her our services, and you could meet her, if you wanted. I’d give her a discount, of course.”
I rise to my feet, the idea of meeting this woman making me want to run away for some reason.
“She doesn’t have to be aware of the tie,” he adds, standing with me. “You can visit her as Aidan O’Fallan. It may be interesting to see her.”
My mom said very little about her family. Nothing about who they were or how they treated her, or if she loved them or not. On the rare times she talked about her childhood, she talked about the beach. She took me to the ocean for picnics all the time as a kid. Usually we’d just sit and watch the waves in silence, like it was a holy place and we needed to be careful not to awaken the ghosts. But very rarely she’d tell me stories about learning to sail with her grandpa or how she used to love to chase the foam.
A warm hand touches mine. “Is everything all right?” Kara asks from beside me.
“We’re going to go see Aidan’s great-grandmother.”
The declaration startles me. “No, we’re not.”
Sid starts to argue. “But, Aidan, you need to—”
Kara cuts in. “No, he’s had enough for now, Sid.”
Sid turns to her. “Until he’s finished his awakening it won’t be enough, Kara. This needs to be completed. Now.”
“You’re pushing him away,” she bites back.
“He needs to know every part of this.” He points at me emphatically. “Then he can accept his fate with open arms. If this woman is a part of that, her truth needs to be heard. Isn’t it odd that she’d be having paranormal trouble at the same time her great-grandson is awakening to his power?”
And at the same time her great-granddaughter is set to turn twelve and be taken by demons.
“I’m not awakening anything,” I say, “if it means Kara has to have sex with me.”
I feel Kara start.
“You don’t understand, Aidan.” Panic surfaces in the pitch of Sid’s voice.
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