Fated

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Fated Page 13

by T. L. McDonald


  ***

  "So you really took out five Fallen on your own?" Owen asks Jared for the third time, sounding just as astonished as he did the first time he asked.

  "I don't know. I guess." Avoiding eye contact, Jared fidgets with the hem of his shirt, staring at it like he's wishing it could somehow whisk him away. "I wasn't really counting."

  "And you've had no training whatsoever," Luca states rather than asks. Sitting across from Jared his eyes roam over him, curious and assessing.

  "No. Out there...I just..." Jared's eyes quickly flick to me then to Luca before settling once again on his fingers working a hole into his shirt. "I don't know." His fingers still, but his eyes don't leave his hands. "When a Fallen tried to kill Hanna, something came over me and I just reacted. It's hard to explain." He begins fidgeting with his shirt once again. "I'm just as surprised by what happened out there as you guys all are."

  Cassidy mumbles something under her breath I can't decipher, which is probably for the best because I doubt whatever she said was anything I wanted to hear. She sits with her arms crossed over her chest eyeballing Jared like he's some sort of dangerous freak of nature who needs to be watched and it's really starting to make me angry. I muster all the self control I can to keep from marching over there so I can smack that look right off her face, because I want to, so much, I want to.

  "Eric and Logan will be here in twenty," Will announces, coming back into the sanctuary. He starts to slip his phone into his back pocket before realizing that that particular pocket’s been nearly torn off and is barely hanging on by a thread. With a sigh he tucks it into his front pocket instead. "Anyway, given that our location has been compromised I think we should all spread out and keep watch in case any more Fallen decide to join the party. Owen and Cassidy, you two take the front. Luca and I will take the back. Hanna and Jared, you two stay here in the sanctuary."

  Walking along side Owen, Cassidy narrows her eyes at Jared as she passes, her hand on the hilt of a ginormous blade sheathed at her side as if she anticipates having to use it on him. Busy fraying the bottom portion of his shirt, Jared doesn't seem to notice.

  I hate how she looks at him, like he's some sort of leashed monster whom she's just waiting for to step out of line so she can cut him down. Once again, I'm overcome with the urge to punch her—repeatedly—in that smug I'm better than you face of hers. I stare a hole into the back of her head imagining doing just that until her and Owen turn a corner and I can no longer see them.

  Plopping myself down beside Jared, I smack his hands away from his shirt. "Stop it before you create any more holes and talk to me. I know something's bothering you. Is it what happened out there when we were fighting the Fallen?"

  He drops his hands into his lap. "I..." He looks over at me and in his eyes I see all the fear he's been trying so hard to keep hidden. "Something happened to me out there Hanna and it’s freaking me out. It's like I was me, and at the same time I wasn't. On some level, I knew exactly what I was doing, while at the same time having no idea how I was doing it. I don't know. It's hard to explain. It's like my body took over and knew what to do while my mind was like ‘whoa what the hell is happening?’ Does that make any sense?"

  "It does actually." I look down at the symbol on my wrist, remembering how I too displayed sudden ninja moves when Adam tossed me his phone that day in my room after I got out of the hospital, because under normal circumstances, it should have hit me. "That's how I felt after Sam marked me. I remember thinking I felt like Jason Bourne from the Bourne Identity movies."

  "That's pretty much how I felt out there. What do you think it means? I don't have a mark like you and I seriously doubt I incorporated anything I learned from karate class when I was eight because let's face it, I totally sucked at karate." He nudges me with his shoulder, a ghost of a smile hinting at the corner of his mouth.

  "That's true. You were pretty horrible. I bet they only gave you that first belt because they felt sorry for you." His smile grows a little wider but doesn't fully reach his eyes. I take his hand linking my fingers through his. "You may not have been marked or learned anything in karate," This time I nudge his shoulder with my own. "But you do have the blood of a Guardian and a Fallen running though your veins and your birthday is less than two months away. Maybe whatever abilities you're meant to have, bound or not by your birth mom, are starting to seep out."

  "That's what's got me so worried because I don't know if these abilities will be good or bad? If I'll be good or bad?"

  I turn his face towards mine so we're eye to eye. "From what I saw out there, I'm going to say good. There's nothing bad about you Jared."

  Bringing my hand to his lips, he kisses my fingers. "I'm glad you're here with me Hanna. I don't know if I'd be able to get through this without you."

  ***

  Standing in the middle of Eric's bathroom I can't help but think…WOW...now that I’m really looking at it for the first time. For one, it's bigger than Will's bedroom and two; it's set up like a spa get away in here. I feel a little ashamed to be standing in it while covered in a mixture of blood and dirt.

  Sitting borrowed clothes of Zoe's, (not my first choice since I would prefer never to touch anything that belongs to her let alone wear it); down on the counter by the sink, I turn on the shower. The water pours down from an oversized showerhead like rain, steam already rising. Peeling off my ruined clothes, I shove them into a plastic grocery bag, careful not to get any yuck onto the floor.

  The water caresses my skin like tiny fingers massaging all the kinks and knots from my shoulders. Maybe I'll stay in here forever and pretend that none of my worries exist. It's certainly better in here with all the sweet smelling soaps and shampoos than being out there covered in blood and whatever else.

  I glance down at the pale white scar on the side of my belly, a constant reminder that playing pretend is not an option. With a groan, I shut off the water and wrap up in the fluffiest towel I have ever seen or felt.

  I get dressed quickly. The jeans are a little long, but not so much that they look ridiculous and the red t-shirt actually doesn't fit half bad. Since I don't have a toothbrush here I use my finger then swish with some mouthwash before brushing the tangles out of my blonde and blue hair.

  When I open the door I nearly walk straight into Will. Startled, I drop my bag of dirty clothes onto the floor. He laughs and I shove his shoulder causing him to almost drop the stack of clothes in his hand. "Don't do that. I've already had enough scares to last a lifetime."

  "I wasn't trying to scare you on purpose. That was just a happy little side effect of my waiting here for the next shower." He brushes past me with a grin. " I hope you saved me some hot water."

  "I hope it's all cold," I counter. He sticks his tongue out and I give him a sarcastic smile.

  Picking up the bag I dropped, I head down the hall towards the delicious smells wafting out of the kitchen. My stomach growls in response.

  In the kitchen, Jared, Luca, Owen, and Eric sit around the table eating scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast covered in what looks like grape jelly, their glasses filled with orange juice. Logan is at the stove adding more eggs and bacon to the pan and leaning against the furthest end of the kitchen island is Cassidy, her eyes trained on Jared.

  The way she watches him, no, correction, glares at him like she's waiting for him to snap and kill us all while we eat breakfast, irks me to no end. I just want to grab her by her ponytail and smack some sense into her. Jared is the nicest and sweetest person I know, and prophecy or no prophecy; he would never do anything to harm another person. Ever. Maybe if she would stop looking at him like he's some sort of freak she'd see that. I'm about to say something to her when Logan calls my name.

  "Huh?" I respond.

  "Do you want some bacon?" She asks. Her back is to me and I can't help but notice the single streak of black woven through her otherwise platinum blond French braid. She turns to face me, a plate of fresh eggs in her hand.

  I pull
out a stool along the furthest end of the island away from Cassidy since there's no seats left at the table. "Yeah, that'd be great. Thanks."

  Adding two strips of bacon to the plate in her hand she then sits it down on the counter in front of me. She's pretty with a heart shaped face, perfect straight white teeth, and the most interesting eyes I've ever seen. They're not quite green and they're not quite blue while at the same time being both green and blue. I've never seen eye color like that. I wonder if she's wearing contacts or if that's actually her natural eye color? There's also an innocence to her that screams 'kindergarten teacher' and not 'fierce Guardian who kicks Fallen butt'. I like her immediately, unlike some.

  I glance at Cassidy from the corner of my eye. She's still glaring at Jared, her eyes slightly narrowed. Like before, Jared doesn't seem to notice and I can't tell if he's really that oblivious to her nasty looks, or if he possesses some super serious iron will power that allows him to ignore it.

  Logan slides a plate of food in front of Cassidy and it's only then that she momentarily looks away from Jared. Like everyone else she eats in silence. It's as if everyone's afraid to talk, probably because we're all dreading discussing what happened last night and the ramifications that will no doubt follow considering it was Zoe (one of their own) who breached The Compound and let The Fallen in.

  God, how could Zoe do that? How could she let them in knowing it would put everyone she's supposed to love, everyone she's supposed to protect, in danger? Does she care nothing for her family? For her brothers? For her friends?

  Probably not since she obviously didn't care for Sam's well being, I think bitterly.

  I look at Eric. Dark circles tint the skin under his eyes and instead of eating his breakfast he pokes at it with his fork. It's evident he's not handling Zoe's betrayal well. And honestly, how could he? What she did went against everything they were ever taught. It tore their family apart. It got a close friend killed and resulted in the death of seven more last night, including Pete from the gate whom I had just met that night.

  "Ooo bacon," Will says, bringing me out of my thoughts. He leans over me stealing a slice off my plate, getting water all over my shoulder from his dripping wet hair.

  "Hey," I protest as he stuffs the entire slice of bacon into his mouth. I shove him away before he can steal any more getting my hand wet on his bare skin. He's only half dressed which is probably why Cassidy's gaze has shifted from Jared to Will in a very obvious ogling sort of way. "Ever hear of a towel?" I wipe my hand off on my jeans.

  "What's a towel?" He asks in mock confusion. "Oh, I know. It's one of those things people who are wet normally use to dry off with, right? You know, I might have considered using one if somebody," He pokes me in the upper arm indicating that I was that somebody. "Hadn’t used the last one."

  Taking a seat beside me he shakes his head like a dog, spraying water all over the side of my face.

  "Really?" I mutter as I wipe my face off with my napkin. I try to keep a straight face, but it's hard not to smile...just a little, at the silly immature faces he's making. How can he be such goof at a time like this? Especially after all the crap that happened last night because of what Zoe did? Eric looks like he hasn't slept in days. Owen and Luca have been mostly keeping to themselves. Cassidy does nothing but glare in hateful ways. Jared looks like he doesn't know who he is anymore, and Logan just looks incredibly sad.

  Maybe Will just can't deal and is keeping himself in denial where Zoe's concerned. Or maybe acting like nothing's wrong is how he deals.

  "Here, have some more." He shakes his head, splashing me once again.

  "Very mature." I shove him, nearly knocking him off the stool. In retaliation, he runs his hand through his hair then wipes his hand across my cheek, wetting my face.

  He flashes a grin at the look I give him. "What? It’s just water."

  I'm about to shove him again, but he moves from the stool and around me so fast, I nearly fall out of my own seat. On the other side of me, he steals another piece of bacon from my plate, practically swallowing it whole.

  "As exciting as it is to watch you two flirt with each other, we have more pressing matters to contend with, like keeping Jared safe by securing the house against The Fallen." Eric gives Will a pointed look. Will responds with a grin then winks at me. Eric rolls his eyes then turns to rinse his plate in the sink.

  Heat rushes up my neck, halting at my cheeks. “I was not flirting with Will.”

  I'm half afraid to look at Jared, thinking that he might be upset by Eric's comment and Will's reaction to said comment, but I can't seem to stop my eyes from turning in his direction anyway. Our eyes meet.

  He doesn't look mad. I don’t think

  I let out the breath I’m holding.

  Jared has no reason to be mad, or upset, or anything anyway because I wasn't flirting with Will. Will might have been flirting with me, but I was definitely not flirting with him. I mean why would I; I'm with Jared. I have no reason to flirt with anyone else, so I don't even know why Eric would say such a thing. I also don't know why I'm worrying about this so much. Jared doesn’t seem upset and Eric was probably just trying to get a rise out of Will.

  I'm just making a big deal out of nothing. But if that's true, then why is there a small part of me that feels like I did something wrong, that feels guilty?

  "You can't be serious?" Cassidy slams her hands down onto the countertop, her voice drowning out the start of my what if guilty feelings regarding Will. "You want to put our lives in danger by keeping that freak here." Jared flinches at the word and my hands immediately clench into fists. "Thomas—”

  "I know what Thomas said and I don't agree. Jared stays here and that's final. If you don't like it," Eric points toward the living room. "Right there's the door."

  Cassidy keeps her spiteful dark brown eyes narrowed and trained on Eric. She crosses her arms over her chest, holding her peach painted lips, thin and tight.

  Eric shifts his eyes from Cassidy to the rest of us scattered throughout the kitchen. "So, who wants to go first? I want to know everything that happened last night."

  ***

  An hour later, after going over every single detail—where we were when the attack happened, how we escaped, what happened at the church with Jared, the role Zoe played, all the way up to when Eric picked us up at the church, with Cassidy interrupting every so often to blame everything on Jared—we now sit in total silence.

  Will has gone from acting silly to sitting with his jaw clenched, a look of anger, and utter sadness at Zoe's betrayal, etched across his face. The look on Eric's face isn't much different. Logan quietly studies Jared with interest while Cassidy continues to stare at him like he's the devil who has us all fooled into thinking he's an angel. Ignoring their stares, Jared fiddles with the little silver box his birth mother left him containing a letter and a photo of the two of them taken soon after he was born. He must have grabbed it when we were fleeing The Compound. And Owen and Luca from what I can tell are texting each other, their phones chiming every few seconds, which reminds me, mine's still turned off.

  Slipping it out of my pocket I turn it on. The screen shows I have several missed calls and texts from Adam. My heart constricts in my chest. The conversation we had last night floods my mind. The things I said were so hurtful and completely untrue. What if he hates me now? What if he was calling all those times to tell me not to bother coming back?

  Hands on the verge of shaking, I open the first text.

  Hanna, please answer. I'm sorry if I upset you. I'm just worried about you.

  Adam never uses shorthand when texting. He prefers to spell everything out and for some reason knowing this brings the start of tears to my eyes. Of course, it could also be because he's apologizing when it should be me who's apologizing.

  I open the second text.

  Please Hanna, just talk to me. Five minutes that's all I'm asking.

  I open the third.

  Please.

  I can't ho
ld them back any longer and the first tear falls. Wiping it away, I continue to torture myself, feeding my guilt by listening to the first voicemail. Adam's voice, so sad, speaks into my ear.

  “Hanna, please answer. Let's talk about this.”

  The automated voice comes on asking me if I want to delete or save. I save and move onto the next message.

  “Hanna, please pick up. I know you're upset, and maybe I was a little harsh on the phone, but it's only because I'm concerned about you. Please call me back or answer when I call so we can talk about this.”

  I listen to the third.

  “I know I'm not Dad, but you have to understand that when he and Mom died you were the only thing I had left and all I ever wanted to do was do their memory justice by raising you the way they would have. I wanted you to be safe and happy and if I've overstepped my bounds, forgot for a moment that I'm your brother and not your parent then I'm sorry. So please Hanna, just talk to me. You've been through so much lately, more than anyone your age should have to go through and I'm worried about you. At least let me know you're okay.”

  After that message I'm not sure if I have the strength to listen to the next one without completely losing it. Holding my breath to keep myself from crying I talk myself into listening to it anyway with the promise of calling Adam right after and apologize a hundred times.

  My hand clamps around the smooth surface of the phone at my ear until my fingers ache. Every ounce of breath leaves my lungs until they’re burning with emptiness and even then, I can’t bring my self to inhale. In what seems like the distance, a voice calls out my name, heavy with concern. I don't know who's voice it is, because I can't pay attention, because the only voice I can hear with perfect clarity is the voice on the phone, and that voice is completely tearing my world apart.

  When the message ends I'm only vaguely aware of someone—Jared I think—prying my fingers from the phone held tightly in my hand. My eyes are filling with tears and all I can see is a blurry figure sitting the phone down onto the counter. Blinking the tears away, they begin streaming down my face in tiny rivers as I stare at the phone like it has all the power in the world to destroy me, because it does.

 

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