Awakened (11 page)

Then he dematerialized, his men following a split second later.

I released the breath I didn’t know I was holding, my knees trembling like leaves in the wind. I glanced at Bran. His green eyes were shadowed, and his shoulder length ebony hair now covered half his face, whipped into a snarled mess by our fight. He raised his hands toward me, then stopped and forked his fingers through his hair, his darkened eyes not leaving mine. He was undecided on whether to offer me comfort or not. The confidence he always wore like a cloak was gone.

“You okay?” he asked in a gentle voice.

I tried to answer, but my vocals refused to function. I nodded. Tears crested in my eyes as the adrenaline rush of the near disaster with Gavyn and his men took full affect. Bran moved closer, put his arms around me and pulled me closer.

Part of me wanted to push him away. After all, his brother had wanted me dead. Another part was so desperate for comfort I clung to his shirt, welcoming the warm and solid planes of his chest. Tears streamed down my cheeks, soaking his shirt.

I don’t know how long he held me before I calmed down and started noticing little things like his clean pine scent, the gentle way he rubbed my back and murmured into my hair. A feeling I couldn’t explain tightened in my tummy. I leaned back. His arms fell away from my shoulders.

“Do you want me to contact your Grampa?” he asked.

I shook my head, stepped away from him. “No, I’ll do it.”

I closed my eyes, focused and searched for Grampa just like Bran had taught me. None of the thoughts were Grampa’s. I searched some more until frustration blocked my throat. I opened my eyes, shook my head. “I can’t find him.”

“Allow me.” Within seconds, I heard Bran telepath him.
Cardinal Falcon, we have a situation at the pool.

In a fraction of a second, Grampa appeared beside us in his hiking boots, dark-brown outdoor clothes, a long leather coat and his usual hat. Until now, I’d found it hard to visualize Grampa as a demon hunter. My eyes popped at the sheathed sword dangling on his hip, gleaming serrated Ninja-looking weapons wrapped across his chest. He was a dead ringer for Van Helsing.

“What’s going…?” His voice trailed off when he saw the frozen crimson energy balls. His eyes changed. Instead of white I’d seen before, they glowed green, the color similar to the light from the core of the jadeite. He whipped around and pointed a finger at Bran, propelling him backward and slamming his body against the wall. “Are you responsible for this, boy?”

“No, Grampa,” I yelled, running to grip his wrist. “We were attacked.”

Grampa eyes blazed as he pushed Bran up the wall another inch. I tugged at Grampa’s wrist. “He tried to save me,” I shouted to get past the fury that contorted Grampa’s face.

He lowered his hand. Bran slid down the wall to the floor and struggled to stand. He looked so scared I was caught between running to his side and staying by Grampa’s. I’d never seen him lose it like that.

“I’m okay,” I reassured him.

He pulled me in his arms and hugged me tight, the metal weapons on his chest digging into me through my robe. I sniffed, smelling the briny scent of the sea. Where had he been?

Then he leaned back to peer at me, his eyes back to normal. “You sure?”

I nodded.

He looked over at Bran who stayed by the wall, keeping his distance. “Bran?”

“I’m fine, sir.” He sounded edgy.

“Good. Now tell me what happened. You were supposed to bid my granddaughter goodbye and leave. Did you lead them to her?”

Grampa’s voice rose and I feared he’d turn on Bran, again. “He was saying goodbye when the three demons attacked. We held them off and they left.” Now wasn’t the time to mention that one of them was Bran’s brother.

Grampa let go of me after a gentle shoulder squeeze and went to examine the frozen energy balls, half of which hovered above the water while the others were over the deck. He turned to us, his expression unreadable. “Who froze the
omnis
?”

“I did.”

He looked at me, eyes narrowed. “You?”

I nodded, still amazed at doing it but worried about his opinion.

He grinned. “That’s my girl.” He turned away from me, but I still heard his telepathic message.
Rock, tell the others you’ll be back soon and come to Motel 6 pool by the trailer park. We have a few omnis to dispose of. Lil froze them.
He glanced at me and Bran, then added louder, “You two, wait in the trailer.”

The words barely left his lips when a tall woman dressed like him appeared on the deck. One look at the suspended orbs and she laughed. “I knew she had it in her. Where’s my
Luminitsa
?” she asked.

I could only gawk at the woman who used to take care of me when I was little. She had disappeared from our lives when I turned ten. “Auntie Janelle?”

Her hazel eyes lit. “You remember me, my little light. How I’ve missed you.”

She hugged me, and I was enveloped in familiar scents, cinnamon and citrus with a dash of lavender, her favorite scent. But mixed in was the scent of the sea as well. Shock or maybe it was happiness gripped my throat.

She leaned back and peered into my face. “Oh, now see what I’ve done. I’ve made you cry.” She wiped a tear from my cheek. “She-warriors—”

“—don’t cry,” I finished, and we grinned. She used to tell me that when I was little. “Are you a Guardian, too?”

“Earth, sweetheart. How about we catch up later, huh? Right now, your grandfather and I need to take care of the
omnis
.” She glanced at Bran, pursed her lips. “Is this what your goodbyes led to, son?”

“I’m sorry, ma’am.”

“Mm-hmm,” she said.

“Now off with you two,” Grampa added.

Bran and I hurried toward the side entrance. Before I left the building, I glanced back at my free-spirited Auntie Janelle. She had to be as old as Grampa and had the body of a twenty-something dancer. She hadn’t changed much except her hair was now shorter and her voice had grown huskier. I couldn’t believe she was a Guardian, yet it made perfect sense. She was the only one Grampa ever trusted to watch over me. She often visited us at odd hours, coming and going as she pleased. And she never ever told me where she lived. “The whole world is my home,” she’d say whenever I asked. She was Cardinal Earth Guardian. How appropriate.

Neither Bran nor I spoke as we moved away from the building. I walked fast, my mind replaying the whole poolside scene. The feral look in Bran’s eyes when Gavyn had suggested taking my powers by draining my energy bugged me. I glanced at Bran. The sunset highlighted his brooding expression. Was he a danger to me despite what he said about not wanting Guardians’ powers?

“What did he
mean
by our energy matched?”

Bran frowned but didn’t answer.

“Bran?”

“It’s nothing.” His tone didn’t welcome any more questions.

“I don’t believe you.”

“It’s not important, Lil,” he snapped.

I stopped walking, glared at him. “You asked me to trust you, Bran. Hiding things from me is not how you build trust.”

He stopped, too, pushed his hands in the front pockets of his slacks and rocked on his heels, his face dark with pent up anger. “Are you generally this inquisitive, or is it only with me?”

He was trying to intimidate me again. I stood up straight, crossed my arms over my chest. “Do you usually evade answering questions, or is it only with me?”

His eyes narrowed even more. “Are you sure you’re ready for my answer?”

I swallowed, hesitated.

“I didn’t think so.” He started to walk.

I grabbed his arm. “Wait.” He glanced at my face then at my hand on his arm. I let him go. “Tell me. I need to know.”

He shook his head. “This discussion is pointless. I’m leaving anyway, so you don’t need to worry your pretty head about it.”

I growled, frustration zipping through me. The thought that I’d never see him again made my chest hurt, but his refusal to answer my questions pissed me off.

“You’re so annoying and arrogant, and think you know everything.” My voice shook, which only fueled my anger.

“Lil—”

I jabbed a finger at his chest. “I saved you back there, pal. If it weren’t for me, you’d be toast. You owe me some answers!”

He laughed, his perfect teeth sparkling against his perfect face.

“Jerk!” I sucker punched him straight in the gut, but I might as well have hit a brick wall. He didn’t even flinch. Instead, his expression gentled. He pulled his hands from his pockets and reached out as though to touch my cheek.

“Don’t!” I stepped back, pivoted on my heel and stomped to the trailer, tears burning my eyes. I took my anger on our poor door, slamming it hard behind me. I kicked off my sandals, paced up and down the carpeted floor.

Conceited jackass! Who did he think he was?
Let him leave. See if I care.

I looked around for something to do, anything to calm down. The mugs by the sink came to my rescue. I needed a drink. I kept myself busy microwaving water, removing the hot chocolate mix, trying hard not to think about Bran and the fact that he was leaving. How much of what Gavyn said was true? Was Bran looking for redemption? I hoped so. No matter how annoying he was, I’d rather he was good than evil like his brother.

As I stirred the drinks, I realized I’d made two cups—for me and Bran. Much calmer, I looked out the window and searched for him. He was leaning against Grampa’s truck, hands in his front pockets. He looked so sad and alone and my heart pinched with worry. Did he have anywhere to go? Anyone else to protect him? I sighed. I was wrong to take out my frustrations on him. It wasn’t his fault I couldn’t accept his leaving, or his lack of answers. I picked up the two mugs, pushed the door with my leg and stepped down from the trailer.

8. STAND BACK

Bran studied me with a dark, unreadable expression as I approached him. I gave him a tentative smile, which he didn’t return. My throat closed with regret. I shouldn’t have hit him. He was still pissed off at me. I offered him a cup.

He hesitated, his gaze quizzical.

“Please, take it.”

He did, but he continued to watch me as I leaned against the truck beside him and sipped my drink. My unease increased. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“No, you’re not.”

I scrunched my face, trying hard not to let his attitude get to me again. I took a deep breath and exhaled. “Fine. I’m
not
sorry for what I said. I have questions but you choose not to answer them. That’s not fair. Still, I shouldn’t have punched you. Not that you didn’t deserved it for laughing at me.”

He sighed. “I wasn’t laughing at you, Lil. What you said was absurd. My brother could never hurt me.” He frowned then added, “But I owe you an apology for what happened by the pool.”

I shrugged. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“Actually, it was. If I hadn’t asked your grandfather to allow me to come and say goodbye to you, the mess with Gavyn might not have happened.”

He had a point there. “Is he always so…mean?” I wanted to say “evil,” but the vulnerability in Bran’s eyes made me lighten it.

“Yeah. He feels he has to prove himself.”

“To whom?”

Bran cradled his cup between his hands, blew out a breath. “Mom. The Brotherhood. Coronis. He wants them to think he’s just like Mom, so he rejects Dad’s genes, tries to show the world they don’t matter.”

“While you think they do,” I added.

Bran shrugged, went back to his hot chocolate as though the discussion was over.

I left him alone for about five seconds. “Who are the
Outcasts
?”

He scowled. “Where did you hear that term?”

“Your brother said you tried to join them,” I reminded him.

A cheerless smile tugged the corners of Bran’s mouth. “Demons who don’t want human souls are treated as outcasts. Calling them
Outcasts
is an insult. Most consider themselves Guardians, though they’re not affiliated to the Cardinals.” He took a long sip of his drink, then shook his head, his expression darkening. His voice grew sadder. “The ones I met in L.A. are decent people, but they are a little lost. They don’t belong with the demons or the Cardinals, yet their leader took me in when I needed a friend. He’s the one who told me how to find you guys.”

Why did he need a friend? I had so many questions to ask him, but they’d wait for later. Except one. “Do you know why your brother’s men reacted to my hair the way they did and what they meant by ‘the one’?”

Bran shot me a wary look then stared into his drink as though debating how to answer me. He shook his head. “It’s nothing, just an old legend we were taught as children.”

I shifted sideways, my gaze not leaving his face. “Tell me.”

His gaze touched my hair. “It doesn’t matter, Lil.”

“It does to me.” I gave him a beatific smile.

He hemmed, pursed his lips then shrugged. “Hermonites believe in the coming of a red-headed leader, someone with the powers of Azazel. They say he’ll be unstoppable, have the ability to control all the elements—water, air, time, earth and much more. He will unite all the demons and help Hermonites rule the world.”

I shivered. Whoever he was, he sounded scary. I hoped he was only a myth. “Uh, who’s Azazel?”

He cocked his right eyebrow. “You don’t know who Azazel is?”

I made a face at his incredulous tone. “Everything is new to me.”

He grinned, the smile so breathtaking I found myself grinning, too. “He was one of the leaders of the Watchers who led the rebellion on the summit of Mount Hermon and started our race, the Nephilim. Why do you think Coronis picked the name Hermonites for her followers?”

“So are there red-headed Hermonites?”

“Too many, all hoping they are the one.”

Hearing his explanation didn’t ease my concerns at all. Now more than ever, I wished I hadn’t inherited red hair from my father, whoever he was. I pushed the nagging thought aside. “Is it true what your brother said? That you seek redemption?”

Bran scoffed under his breath. “Not really. All I want is my family out from under Coronis’ thumb, for us to live anywhere we want without being hunted down like animals by the Cardinals.”