Awakened (13 page)

I shook my head, bemused. That was the second time I watched him teleport, and the transformation still awed me. I couldn’t wait to master it.

Grampa was two-hundred-and-eighty, I thought as I cleaned up the kitchen. How long would I live? Did demons that didn’t collect souls like Bran live long, too?

Dealing with this Guardian and demon mess was so confusing and exhausting, yet I knew I couldn’t run from it. Things I didn’t know about them lurked in the back of my head even as I tackled something so mundane as my homework load. Biology was a breeze, but I started wondering about our physiology. How was it different from humans? What made Guardians live longer, age slower and heal faster?

I ended up studying chapters that weren’t part of my homework before I concluded that the textbook didn’t have answers to my questions. Nephilim were different from humans, and I couldn’t wait to learn more about them.

Sighing, I switched to algebra. I needed to drop it and biology. Retaking them was just plain lame. Somehow, I’d have to catch my counselor between demon-hunting trips.

Grampa wasn’t back by nine, so I locked up. Gavyn’s face flitted in my head as I double-checked windows. He was the only person I knew who’d want to hurt me, and locked windows or doors wouldn’t be much of a barrier for him. Cold crawled up my spine at the thought.

Pushing thoughts of Gavyn aside, I showered and brushed my teeth, changed into my floral pajamas and slipped under the comforter. Sleep, however, eluded me. I stared into the dark, my mind reliving every moment of this evening.

Bran. No matter how hard I tried to keep thoughts of him at bay, he kept slipping past. Everything about him teased my senses. His gorgeous face and sexy smile, his pine scent and the way I felt when he looked at me. Was this how it felt to have a crush on a guy? Should I listen to Grampa and take a step back? After tonight’s events, it seemed like the logical thing to do.

I closed my eyes and tried to find his psi energy.

Nothing.

The other Guardians were in communication. What were they discussing? Shared anecdotes? Should I contact them and ask them more on what they knew about demons and their ways? No, not a good idea. Besides, anything to do with Bran was too personal to share. And despite being a Guardian, I didn’t feel like I belonged yet. I pulled the comforter to my chin and tried to go to sleep.

I was still battling insomnia when I heard, “Lil?”

Bran. My eyes popped open and for a disoriented moment, I sat up and looked around my bedroom for him. Then I realized he’d telepathed me. I dropped back on my bed, closed my eyes and located his psi energy, every cell in my body humming. He seemed so close, like he was here in the valley. Should I answer him or pretend to be asleep? Grampa’s warning resounded in my head. Dang, this was the hardest decision ever.

I know you can hear me, Sunshine.

Sunshine did it for me. I liked that he had a special name for me.
Hey.

Are you awake?

No, I’m sound asleep, and you’re hearing voices in your head.

He laughed.
Did your Grampa give you a hard time?

Not really. What did Aunt Janelle want?

Nothing I couldn’t handle. She’s pretty cool.

Yeah, she’s amazing.

Are you ready for tomorrow?

I frowned.
Tomorrow?

Your first day of training.

Oh crap.
Hadn’t thought about it, but thanks for reminding me. Now I won’t sleep.

Want me to sing to you?

In that sexy voice, sleep would be the last thing on my mind. Just listening to him now energized me.
Can you sing?

Like an angel.

I giggled.
Ironic.

He chuckled.
I know. I’ll let you go to sleep. Just wanted to say goodnight.

I bit my lower lip and tried to hold back my next words. The battle was over before it even began.
Will I see you tomorrow?

Maybe.

Quit teasing.

He laughed.
I’ll be around. Sweet dreams, Sunshine.

I curled under the comforter, my heart singing a happy tune. I doubted my dreams would be sweet after my conversation with Bran.

9. THE DOJO

“You’re glowing,” Kylie said the next morning.

After Bran starred in my dreams, I wasn’t surprised. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I fixed my gaze on the road, focused on my driving. Once again I had the truck. Grampa came home in the early morning and was still asleep.

“I saw you and Bran by the truck, then you disappeared inside your trailer. Did he kiss you?”

No, but I wanted him to.
My cheeks warmed. “Just because you and Cade make out all the time doesn’t mean we’re like that.”

“So
you
kissed him?”

“No.”

Kylie laughed, but she quit teasing me and started talking about online teen social groups. Teen online groups were never my thing and so I only half listened to her. I had a lot more pressing things to stress about. Topping the list was Bran and my soon-to-be only after school activity—training to be a killer. In the past, I’d mixed my martial art lessons with gymnastics and swimming. From today, it would be train, train, train.

Kylie and I went our separate ways when we got to school. McKenzie reserved a seat for me in algebra. As soon as I sat down, she pounced. “What happened yesterday? Why did you defect to Kim’s table?”

This time I couldn’t get away with just saying Grampa signed me up for martial arts at C12 Dojo and I had to discuss schedule details with Kim and her friends. McKenzie wanted details. Why C12? How long have I been training? Did I ever attend tournaments or win anything? Would I be sitting at Kim’s table at lunch?

“Of course not,” I denied. On the inside I knew I’d need help from the trainees if I wanted to learn more about Guardians and demons, which meant hanging out with them from time to time.

The day dragged, the lessons appearing longer than yesterday. I tried to locate Bran in between classes and during lunch to no avail. Where was he?

The trainees and their entourage walked in, and I gave them a mechanical wave when their gazes locked onto me. I received a nod from Remy, a smile from Izzy, a wink from Sykes, and an eye-roll from Kim after she checked the humans I sat with.

I ignored her, but it dawned on me that I just referred to my non-Guardian friends as humans.
I
was human, too, dang it. Part human, anyway.

I pressed my fingers to my temples. Grampa lied to me. I could get sick even when I didn’t overuse my powers. I had a headache, and my stomach was in knots. My first day at the dojo loomed like a dark cloud. What if I hurt someone? My powers were so unpredictable.

Calm down, Lil. You know what happens when you lose it.

I took a deep breath, then another, and tried to join in the discussion my friends were having. The topic was manga and animè. Cade, Zack and Kylie were into Saiyuki, Bleach and InuYasha. I liked Saiyuki the best. Never watched it though, just read the manga. What would these guys think if they knew people with powers like their favorite manga characters existed? Bet they wouldn’t be so fascinated. Bet our friendship would be out the window, and
I
would be labeled a freak. Oh, what was the point of second guessing how they’d react to what I was? It was a non-issue. I’d never tell them.

Kylie didn’t need a ride home after school, which suited me fine. I had a lot on my mind. Where was Bran? Did he go back to Coronis Isle? Was he okay? And there was the imminent training, and the worries that went with it.

When I got closer to home, I checked the weeping willow. Of course he wasn’t there. I might associate the tree with him, but he’d never gone back there since our first meeting. A lump swelled in my throat. I knew he would leave, yet the sting of loss left me feeling helpless and a little angry. Why did I always lose those I cared about?

Grampa wasn’t home but left a note to meet him at the dojo at four. I tried to tackle my homework but was too worked up to be productive. The memories of the damage my powers did last time kept flashing in my head.

I finished math, then it was time to leave. I changed into gray sweatpants, a white tank top and a gray hoodie, replaced my ballet flats with sneakers then grabbed my gym bag. Before taking off, I made sure I had bottled water, martial arts shoes and gloves.

It took me a full fifteen minutes, including a stop at a gas station to ask for directions, before I found C12 dojo in a new building by Cineplex Eight, the movie theater in Providence.

The building was a huge, new mini mall with drab tan walls and tiled floor. Inside were restaurants, a salon, a boutique, and some office spaces not yet leased. Two staircases wound from the opposite ends of the first floor to the upper levels. C12 was on the third floor, a sign read.

The door, with a drawing of the Cardinal Guardian amulet on the upper half, stood ajar when I arrived. The reception area was empty, murals of figures wielding lethal weapons adorning its walls.

A front desk with two plastic trays overflowing with pamphlets and registration forms occupied the right end of the narrow lobby. Opposite it, a long black leather bench for visitors. One doorway led to a hallway ahead.

Ki-yah…ki-yah…ki-yah!

The sounds drifted from the hallway, and I stepped forward to find their source. They grew louder as I walked past the desk. At the first door, made of oak with a square, clear glass about eye-level, I peeked inside. About twenty or so preteens in black pants and white sleeveless tees were kicking and punching the air. The instructor, a black guy with long curly hair dressed like the students, demonstrated the palm thrusting moves of
baguazhang
as he walked in a circle. Smooth. I almost clapped.

I passed three other rooms, each with students sparring, punching and practicing with wooden rods, and each run by a twentyish-looking male instructor. The last one was a meditation class packed with men and women, the yoga mats covering every inch of the floor. I recognized the instructor right away as Mrs. Deveraux, my English teacher.

Where was Grampa? A psi scan indicated he was nowhere nearby though I picked up at least six strong readings.

The hallway turned to the right. I peeked from the corner to find a very long, unlit passage that seemed endless. The clang of metal against metal echoed in the darkness. Where was the sound coming from? I couldn’t see any doors. Dark, tight places and I were not compatible. I’d start hyperventilating in seconds and imagine the walls closing in on me. Maybe I’d better wait in the foyer.

“Lil, didn’t know you’d be here today.”

Izzy’s cheerful voice reached me from behind, and I turned. She’d changed into black pants and a matching tank top. Soft, black suede boots on her feet.

“I thought I’d check the place out, maybe start training.”

“Come on then.” She walked past me and started down the dark hallway without slowing down. “Kenta-daisensei doesn’t like us to be late.”

A daisensei? I’d never trained with a martial arts master before. “Where are the others?” I asked, not moving an inch.

“Kim likes to push it, so she’ll be here at exactly four. The guys are here already.” One second she was in front of me, the next she disappeared. I swallowed, my eyes straining to see into the gloom.

A shaft of light fell into the hallway and I saw her standing by a door. If she hadn’t opened it, I would never have guessed there was one at the end of the hallway. She looked at me and beckoned.

“Where’s the light switch?” I asked her, raising my voice to be heard above the clashing metal.

She disappeared, and then light flooded the hallway. I sighed with relief and squinted against the brightness. The walls were white, the floor uncarpeted. Izzy reappeared and gave me an impatient look. I hurried to catch up, the din growing louder and my heart thumping with nervousness the closer I got.

“Here we go. Welcome.” She stepped inside the room and disappeared somewhere to my left.

I stayed in the doorway, my gaze drawn to Remy and Sykes sparring with swords. Muscles flexed under their trademark black attire, footwork swift and smooth like a dancer’s. There was something attention-grabbing and drool-worthy about these two guys.

I gave the training room a sweeping glance. It seemed vast, with no windows but well-lit by glowing orbs dangling from the wooden roof. Unlike the other rooms with padded floors, punching bags and wooden practice weapons, this one had a bare wood floor with a black drawing of the Cardinal amulet dominating the center of the floor. The roof was high, three different levels of beams criss-crossing the space between it and the floor. It was as though someone had planned to add a ceiling but couldn’t decide how high up to put it. The textured white walls had patches of dark stains.

My attention shifted to the two guys, my gaze volleying between them. They didn’t seem aware of my presence. They were sweating, swords colliding, lifting and connecting again. Remy knocked the sword out of Sykes’ hand. Sykes teleported, snatched his sword before it hit the ground then disappeared again. His laugher drew my attention upward. He was on one of the beams above the floor, grinning. Ah, so that was the purpose of those babies.

“Didn’t expect that, did you?” Sykes mocked Remy.

“You want to play hardball?” Remy asked, grinning back.

“Bring it on.” Sykes teleported to another beam, looked down at me and winked.

I shook my head. He was such a show-off. My gaze returned to Remy.

He wrapped a hand around the blade of his sword, and the glistening steel changed its color to a dull brown. The sharp edge rounded, shimmered like a mirage and stretched until it became a long, cylindrical shaft, the end dangling to the floor. In mere seconds, he’d transformed his sword into a scythe with a long chain at its end.