Taken (Marked By Angels Book 2)

by KC Bellinger

  He saw something I couldn’t. I followed his gaze. It only went as far as a patch of pine trees. We camped on the outskirts of the city just in case The Protector was lying and we didn’t have safe access to town.

  “Jaiten?” I called, getting out of the car.

  “C’mon it’s time to go. Now!” he ordered.

  I felt what he must have seen. A silent wave rolled over the trees in search of us. There was no time to even start the car. I wrapped the cloak around me and tucked into a ball, trying to cover Jaiten as well even though he protested.

  “It’s you we need to protect, not me.”

  As fast as the surge rolled over us, it was gone.

  “Could it be the demons you were with?” I asked when we were on the road heading back into town.

  “No. Demons can’t reach like that,” he admitted.

  “So you think it’s an Hour?”

  “I know it is,” he gulped.

  “Well, that’s good news then. Maybe she can help us.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “Why?”

  “You ask too many questions.”

  “Perhaps it is you who fails to reveal what I need to know,” I huffed. “I need to check into the campus. You can drop me off and go play ‘demon’ with your friends.”

  Chapter 7

  There were a few students registering and milling about as I walked the halls of the college campus. Classes didn’t start for another week, but I wanted to get familiar with the school. The kids looked about my age, but they were dressed in nicer clothes. Since I hadn’t seen the inside of a new clothing store ever in my life, I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to look. My faded jeans and oversized faded sweaters would have to do.

  The library at the estate was my favorite room. All the stories, history, and poetry any one person could read. I read them all twice from my favorite reclining chair. The fire would chat as it chewed on a fallen tree, and when I was done listening, I’d fall into the hands of some wonderful writer. The places I traveled and the people I met all from my home were incredible, but it wasn’t enough. I wanted adventure. So, when I came upon two heavily carved doors that swung lazily as students entered and exited the grand library, I was excited.

  I cracked the door open and peered upon towers of stored books. There were oak tables and chairs lit with candles even though the sunlight shone brightly on the desks. One boy with long brown bangs was scanning through book titles, carrying a candle in a brass holder. He looked up and smiled at my eager but hesitant face. My nerves started controlling my movements, and without Jaiten or my family to reassure me, I stared at him like an idiot.

  “You can look around,” the boy said encouragingly. He set a stack of books on a table and led me through the monstrous room. “Come on, I’ll show you around. You should think about getting your library card soon before last year’s students return, or you’ll have to wait in line.” He pointed to a counter where a grim-faced librarian sat, sorting files. “My name’s Justin and I’d be happy to show you around. “

  “Whitney,” I replied, not wanting to give him any more information.

  “Okay then, Whitney, how about I show you around after I get these books filed?” Justin’s smile was genuine and it made my heart ache for my little brother.

  I couldn’t believe I was already getting homesick. He brushed his bangs from his forehead and I caught sight of his soft blue eyes. He had thick, long eyelashes and should have been the envy of every female. Perhaps that was why he kept his hair in his face.

  I approached the sour-faced lady at the desk. She looked like she was in her mid-twenties and had her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail high on her head. She gave me some papers without saying a word.

  After filling them out, I handed them back. She scowled when she read my personal information.

  “You’re from Aster?”

  I nodded.

  “You’re one of them, aren’t you?” she hissed.

  “What do you mean?” I asked wearily, backing away from the counter.

  “Miss Whitney White, yes, I know your family.”

  I kept backing up and bumped into Justin.

  “Julia, is there a problem?” Justin asked with his hand placed firmly on my shoulder, so I wouldn’t bolt out of the library. He was a few inches taller than me and having him there felt reassuring.

  “She’s Whitney White from Aster,” Julia slurred.

  “So?” Justin shrugged.

  “Casper’s family.”

  “Oh.” Justin sighed, his grip loosened and then fell.

  “You knew my uncle Casper?” I asked, more to the polite boy than the pinched-faced lady.

  “Yes, he was a priest at the cathedral across the street. He rescued Julia and me after our parents abandoned us,” Justin explained.

  “We weren’t abandoned, brother. Our parents disappeared.” She turned to face me. “Just like Casper.”

  I gulped. “I’m sorry. Casper died many years ago, shortly after returning to Aster.” I wasn’t about to tell them a demon had killed him.

  The librarian curled her lip in disgust and folded her arms over her chest. “I won’t help anybody related to that witch.”

  “What are you talking about, Julia?” Justin returned his reassuring hand to my shoulder.

  “She must be related to Dustyn. You know, the lady who showed up with that dark-eyed man. They said they were getting married and wanted Casper to perform the ceremony.”

  Angels’ eyes are black, so the “dark-eyed man” had to be Tresian. They came here together in search of Hewitt’s uncle for help. A knot in my chest clenched down hard whenever I thought of him. Dustyn never wanted to marry Hewitt but she had no choice. I sometimes forget what sacrifices she’d made for her family.

  “We aren’t related,” I said flatly.

  Julia smirked and handed me a small card with my name typed at the top—my first library card.

  ***

  Justin showed me the school grounds, pointing out all the different halls and dormitories. “So, which one are you staying in?” he asked as we walked through a gaggle of giggling girls.

  A few of them trailed us with their eyes.

  “Thankfully, none.”

  “Then where are you staying? You aren’t living in your car, are you?” Justin’s eyes widened with concern.

  “Actually, I’m staying at the parsonage.” I pointed over to the towering cathedral. “My father is a large supporter of the church, so they offered me room and board. But I have to help clean or do whatever chores they need me to do. ”

  “Your father—he is Hewitt White.”

  “Yes.” I nodded and quickly changed the subject so the topic didn’t revert to Dustyn. “Where do you and your sister live?”

  “I stay at the church, too. It seems like we might be neighbors,” he answered eagerly. “Saturday I teach a music class to the preschoolers. Would you care to help me?”

  “I’d like that.”

  Justin rubbed at his reddened cheeks. “I’ve got to get back to the library before my sister gets angry.”

  “Before you go,” I said, putting a hand on his arm. “Why does your sister not like Dustyn?”

  “Got me.” He shrugged. “Julia’s told me she sees things, but I think she’s nutty. Perhaps if Dustyn comes to visit you here, you could show Julia she’s a normal person.”

  “Perhaps,” I said, then walked away. No reason to tell him she was dead, too.

  ***

  From the edge of the campus tree line, I spied the numerous steeples and cupolas of the cathedral. Timber Grove had been one of the wealthiest coastal cities before The Crash and prided themselves on the biggest and best architecture in the state, including their churches. I followed the freshly painted stone wall for a block before I arrived at the black iron gates. They loomed high above my head and competed for space in the sky with the trees and clouds. Inside, a spring garden had sprouted daffodils and tulips. Timidly, I pushed on
the gate. Even though it was heavy, it moved with little effort.

  A man tending the flower beds popped his head up from behind a rosebush. He had pruning scissors in his hand and was trimming off dead branches. A tear reached my eye when I recalled the sprawling White gardens full of irises, ferns, shade trees, and of course, rose bushes. I sniffed away the tear. It was stupid to miss their predictable leaves and petals.

  “Always love springtime,” the man confessed. “Can’t wait for these beauties to bloom.” He stepped away to survey his work. He was in his late forties, but not a sign of gray spoiled his thick chestnut hair. The sun had colored his face a light brown, but his arms and legs were concealed in his traditional clerical clothes. The priest had a pleasant face with stunning features and I wondered how this healthy-looking man could dedicate his life to God, and only God. He tugged at his collar as a bead of sweat ran down his neck. He patted his face with a handkerchief. “Once the sun is high in the sky, it gets kind of warm in this black suit.”

  “Can’t you wear something else when you tend the gardens?” I asked, bewildered that the priest had so much to say. Our priest back home spoke very little outside of preaching and I never saw him attend a garden.

  “Guess I could, but I never thought of it.” He reached down to where a bucket of gardening tools and a glass of iced tea sat. He grabbed the drink and the melting ice tinkled against the glass. “The sun is unpredictable this year.” He pointed to a clump of dark clouds nearby. “And from the looks of that, I don’t have a lot of time today.”

  “I’m Father Bucheli,” he said after taking a long sip. He surveyed my clothes and the backpack over my shoulder and held his free hand out. “You must be Whitney White.”

  I nodded and shook the man’s hand. He gave me a tour of the cathedral grounds, including the rectory, the cemetery, and the orphanage where I would spend my free time cleaning. I knew my dad wouldn’t let me sail through school without working a bit, after all, he was paying for my education.

  The one-room cabin I was staying in wasn’t glamorous, but I didn’t need much and it beat bunking with a roommate. A twin-size bed, a wooden desk, and a chair were the only pieces of furniture inside. It was chilly inside despite the stuffy air. A wood stove sat in the middle of the room and a few pieces of chopped wood were collected at the base.

  “There is a bulletin in the dining hall of church activities. Please attend as many as you’d like. We are always in need of volunteers, too.” The priest winked at me.

  “I’ll look and compare my school schedule. I’ll see what I can do,” I said reassuringly.

  Father Bucheli smiled and seemed content with my false promise.

  Not only did I come here for college, but I came here to seek who or what I was. Maybe after that, I could play bingo with the senior community.

  “I’ll have Justin bring you some more wood when he gets done at the library. He’s a nice boy, I think the two of you are close in age.”

  “We met already.”

  Father Bucheli eyed me suspiciously.

  “At the school,” I explained. “I met his sister and got a library card.”

  The priest flashed another brilliant smile.

  “Does Julia live here, too?”

  “No, she is a monitor for one of the girl’s dormitories.”

  “Poor girls,” I muttered.

  Father Bucheli covered his laugh with an unconvincing cough.

  ***

  The priest returned to his gardening, and I decided to unpack. There were only four hangers and a few shelves in the sparse closet. I scooted Dustyn’s books to the back of the top shelf, and placed a few sweaters in front of them, concealing them from roaming eyes. I pulled the cloak out from my bag and hung it up. There were two inside pockets, but they were empty. Rubbing a hand up and down the pelt, a flash of the demon known as The Protector filled my senses.

  I inhaled deeply, his scent was woven in the coat. So was Jaiten’s. I hadn’t seen Jaiten all day and I needed to find him. Since master demons were forbidden to step on sacred ground, I knew I’d never see him here. Spirit-bound demons could enter the grounds, but not the church. They, too, were allowed to have some safety from superior demons in case one repented. I only knew of one demon that did, and I had lost a great friend in the exchange.

  A knock on my door startled me back to the small cabin. Justin came in with his arms full of recently chopped wood. The cedar scent filled the room. “Hello again.” Justin made a neat stack of the kindling. “Care to join me for dinner?” He was short on breath as he brushed off his dusty gloved hands.

  “I’d love to.”

  “They serve dinner in the cafeteria in about two hours. I’ll see you soon.” Justin stuck his head back into the open cabin door. “I’m only two doors down if you need anything.” He pointed at an identical unit with the number 12 on it.

  “Thanks,” I said, and closed the door behind him.

  ***

  I found Jaiten close to the gates. He was propped against a light post, chewing on a piece of grass. When he saw me watching him, he smiled and waved. I felt like a child again. He knew how to warm my heart and make me feel safe. I bounded after him and jumped into his arms as I had since I was little. He spun me around, and I threw my head back as we both laughed. He set me on my feet but didn’t let go. I would have fallen from dizziness if he did.

  “We got plans tonight,” Jaiten announced. “Those friends I told you about want to meet you.” His face grew dark and serious. “We think you’re an Hour of Night. It might be a bit dangerous, so bring the cloak. It’s supposed to offer you some sort of protection. I’m hoping you’ll find out soon how it works.”

  I dropped my head. I felt bad lying to him.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Just dizzy,” I lied.

  “They have an Hour, but I fear she may have dark tendencies.” Jaiten turned to face me. “Whatever you do, don’t let her into your mind.”

  “I made plans for tonight.” I frowned.

  “Cancel them,” he commanded. “This is important.”

  I left a note on Justin’s door with an apology.

  Chapter 8

  “Turn here.” Jaiten pointed to a dirt road.

  A thin trail curved and then straightened every few feet. Trees seemed to jump out at me as I drove at a snail’s pace. Natural cliffs and ancient evergreens concealed the house but the points of the mid-evil-looking castle crept closer with every turn. It was slightly bigger than the White’s house, but unlike the place I grew up, this place was scary. The walls were headstone gray and the windows were insignificant. It was a fortress for a monster.

  A familiar-looking couple stood outside looking smug with their fake smiles and waving gestures. The double doors behind them were medieval and equipped with ornate metal bolts on the outside. What are they locking inside the house?

  The man was bland like he was barely there and his gray suit and hair matched the walls of his home. The woman was dressed in a pale-brown dress. Her once voluptuous figure was now wavering on the heavy side. Short and silver hair framed her round face and her lips were painted butterscotch.

  Then it hit me.

  He was the mayor of Timber Grove. I snaked a concerned glance at Jaiten, but he refused to look at me.

  They introduced themselves as Amelia and Curtis Strong, but I already knew that. When my father was the mayor of Aster, these two characters were our dinner guests one night. I overheard them talking to Dustyn about wanting her for her abilities. They told her to bring me, too. Of course, we never came here. Kristy and I, wanting to see something more than Aster, fought with Dustyn. She never caved and now I know why. I’d been in danger.

  “Come in, darlings. So good to see you again.” Amelia Strong waved a hand at us.

  I reached for Jaiten and stopped him at the foot of the first stone stair. He glanced at me quickly. I knew he didn’t want me to create a scene, but screw him.

  “No, Jaiten,�
� I whispered.

  “Is there a problem?” Amelia called from the top of the porch. Five long steps curved up to the porch. “It’s okay, Whitney. I have someone who wants to meet you.” Amelia fluttered her eyelashes at me and pouted her lips like she was trying to coerce a three-year-old to eat spinach.

  “I don’t think this is a good idea,” my voice was shaky as I pleaded with Jaiten. “Please, don’t do this.”

  He didn’t advance forward, but he refused to acknowledge me.

  “Camille, come and welcome our new friends,” Amelia called into the open doorway.

  A young, chubby girl appeared in the door frame. Her long curly hair reached her waist and bounced as she walked. She held a doll with the same dark curls tight to her chest. I could tell by her thick gray eyes she was an Hour.

  I gasped, horrified that this girl was being held captive. I could only imagine how they planned on hurting her.

  “They don’t hurt me,” the little Hour answered my thoughts.

  A smirk reached Amelia’s mouth. “No, of course not, dear, and please tell our guest we don’t plan on hurting her either.”

  The girl gulped and squeezed the doll tighter. “They don’t plan on hurting you,” she said her well-rehearsed lines without conviction.

  Jaiten finally spoke, “Just talk to them, for me.” He brought my hand to his mouth and gently kissed it.

  “Fine. You have sixty minutes to get me out of here! Understand?” I muttered through gritted teeth.

  He nodded and dropped his hand angrily.

  I reached into the back seat to retrieve the cloak. I wasn’t about to go inside willingly and walk into a trap. “Are these the friends you were talking about?” They felt like demons, not humans when I reached for Jaiten this morning.

  “I know their demon companions.”

  A faint memory of bloody red lips filled my vision. Grudgingly, I walked up the flight of stairs and shook hands with the couple.

  “I hope your father is well,” Curtis Strong said dully.

  “He’s fine.”

  “And Dustyn?” He arched his eyebrow and smirked.