Betrayed (28 page)

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Authors: Ednah Walters

BOOK: Betrayed
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“Where’s the bar?” Sykes asked.

“Downtown L.A., West Second Street. The CP did a sweep, and the area is free of demons.

They’l continue to scan even after we leave. We’l teleport in twos as usual.” He looked at me. “Lil goes with me. Kim and Izzy fol ow our telegate. The guys take the rear. We’l land in the al ey behind the bar.” He frowned. “Jethro tries to keep it free of hobos, so no need to look like you’re about to throw up, Kim.

Any other question?”

Everyone shook their heads. I didn’t want to teleport with Bran, but I couldn’t complain or the others would know we’d fought.

“Let’s do this. Feel free to stop by the office if you want to see where we’re headed. The CP has a live feed of the neighborhood,” he added, then teleported.

We fol owed and appeared outside the HQ

offices. I hovered in the doorway. Bran was with the others around the holographic-like image and waved me over. I ignored him and hurried to the weapons room. Maybe I’d be ready before they arrived. As a rule, we left our squabbles behind and presented a unified front whenever we left the val ey on a hunt.

The others would notice Bran and me not speaking to each other if we were in the same room for too long. Remy already suspected something was wrong.

Bran arrived behind me, paused as if to say Bran arrived behind me, paused as if to say something, but I turned my back to him, not wanting to talk.

“It looked grimy,” Kim whined as she and Izzy arrived. “Probably crawling with rats.” Izzy shuddered. “And mangy strays.”

“There are worse things than rats, stray cats, and dogs,” Sykes said, entering the room.

“Like what?” Izzy and Kim asked in unison.

“You two when you whine,” he retorted.

Disappearing inside my closet, I tuned them out. When I re-entered the main floor, everyone was strapping on their weapons. This was our first trip outside the val ey since Grampa warned us to be vigilant, so everyone packed extra everything. Izzy even wore an elbow length glove of leather and steel that launched blades when she bent her wrists. I’d seen Grampa use them on a few occasions but didn’t know we could too.

I walked to the wal with the Kris Dagger and gathered my stuff. Feeling eyes on me, I turned. Bran quickly glanced away, but not fast enough. He’d been staring at me. He wore the coat with two slashes in the back for his wings over his dark clothes. I noticed he favored those in the evenings.

“Here,” he said, appearing beside me with eight shuriken, his face expressionless.

He didn’t have to bring me the ninja stars.

Was this his peace offering? I hope not. He’d have to beg for me to forgive him.

“Thanks,” I said a little ungraciously.

“Careful.” He placed two in each of my hands.

“Put those away first.”

I slipped them in the special y lined inner chest pockets of my coat then added the next four from him. My cheeks warmed when I caught Remy staring at us. He nodded and smiled. I made a face.

Bran stayed as I slipped two knives into the pouch hidden inside my boots and an extra dagger on a waist belt so that it hung opposite the Kris Dagger. Only then did he leave to check something in the office.

When he returned, he said, “CP team confirmed the coast is clear. The neighborhood might be rough, but it has low demonic activity.” Izzy groaned. “I’d much prefer zero demonic activity.”

“We’d al like that.” He offered me his hand, his gaze intense and unnerving as though he wanted to say something more.

Go ahead. Say you’re sorry,
I said to myself since I couldn’t link with him.

He didn’t speak.

Two could play the silent game. I stood and placed my hand in his.

He glanced at the others. “See you in L.A.”

***

We landed in the al ey between two brick warehouses. If it weren’t for Bran gripping my arm, I would have landed in a pool of inky liquid of questionable origin. The putrid stench of stale beer combined with the musty reek of urine and rotten garbage hung in the air. A single yel ow security light flickered to our right then died, plunging us into total darkness. I let go of Bran’s hand, pushed aside the lapel of my coat, and grabbed the hilt of the Kris Dagger.

Pain and power surged through me, but I sucked it in.

“Are we in the right place?” The silence was unnatural. I expected noise—a blend of loud music, people’s voices, and wheels on tarmac.

“Yes.” Bran peered up the al ey. We were way in the back. “The place has gotten rundown. It wasn’t this bad the last time I visited.” I frowned. “Didn’t you teleport here when you scouted the place?”

“No.”

Even if the grounds had been cleaned, the hulking warehouses gave the al ey an ominous feel, like demons lurked in every shadow. Ahead, by the front, neon lights flashed red and blue, the only sign of normalcy. No pedestrians were visible from where we stood. I should have studied the live feed before we left. Teleporting here completely blind had been a bad idea.

Something scurried and brushed against my legs. I swal owed a scream, flung a hand in its direction and sent it flying into the darkness. The yelps of a frightened dog fil ed the air.

I cringed and cal ed out, “Sorry.”

“Shh. I don’t like this.” Bran sounded worried.

“The others should have arrived by now.” We waited a minute, maybe two. The others stil didn’t appear. Darkness smothered my senses, my phobia for dark, tight places kicking in.

my phobia for dark, tight places kicking in.

“Maybe they didn’t fol ow us?” My grip tightened around the dagger.

“Why wouldn’t they?” he snapped.

“You don’t have to snap at me,” I retorted.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, but he didn’t sound sorry at al . “Maybe they hopped on a wrong telegate. It’s possible when two paths cross. Let’s head toward the front of the building.” Walking gingerly beside him, I imagined al sorts of gunk every time I put my foot on the ground.

Better I focus on something else before I threw up. I sent short burst of energies and tried to locate our friends. Pinging was like tuning in to frequencies.

After a while, your energy just knew how to find a particular frequency. Tonight, something jammed my signal.

Frustrated, I closed my eyes and focused.

Nothing. No Guardians’ radiant orbs. Instead, red globs with black patches and flaring edges were everywhere. Demonic psi energies. Several seemed to be moving toward us.

Heart pounding, my eyes snapped open.

“Demons are coming this way. Fast.”

“How many?” Bran pul ed out something that looked like a short stick from his waist, pressed a button and three, serrated blades sprung out.

“At least a dozen, maybe more.” My voice came out uneven, anticipation and fear zipping through me. After taking out Coronis, we al became a bit cocky about our abilities, but only an idiot faced demons without fear. Guardians weren’t invincible.

I pul ed out the dagger. “I thought you said there were no demons here.”

“Who’s snapping now?” he retorted. “The CP

said it was safe, not me.”


You
confirmed, like, a gazil ion times.”

“If it makes you feel better to blame me, go ahead,” he snapped. “I don’t need to deal with your attitude now.”

“Oh, I hate you,” I mumbled.

“Good. You’re going to need that anger to fight off these demons.” He pointed his blades toward the flashing neon lights, urgency lacing his words. “The entrance to Jethro’s is to the left. Go…

go. Run.”

I took off, sprinting over debris and squishy goo without caring what I stepped on. “Why can’t we just teleport home?” I yel ed, jumping over something lumpy.

“Heading home would only give them a telegate to fol ow,” Bran said, not even breathing hard. “The last thing we need is demon invasion.” The Kris Dagger lit up like a fal en star giving us the first warning we weren’t alone. Bran’s amulet imbedded in his belt buckle glowed brightly, too.

Mine, buried under a black shirt and heavy trench coat, warmed my chest.

We stopped, looked around. My mouth went dry and blood rushed through my ears with the roar of a waterfal . Bran peered behind us then tilted his head to look up. A curse escaped his lips. I fol owed his gaze and gulped.

Standing on the edge of the roof of the warehouses, silhouetted against the smog-fil ed sky were over a dozen dark figures. Covered from head to toe in black ninja-like suits, their only visible body parts were their red eyes, which gleamed wickedly under the Kris Dagger’s glow.

Keep going,
Bran telepathed, his free hand pressing on my back.

Surprised by the silent communication after what he’d said in his bedroom, I moved forward, measuring my steps, counting the demons. There were fourteen of them. Nothing to stress about. They didn’t carry weapons of any kind. On the other hand, nature-benders didn’t need weapons—if they were nature-benders.

Five of them reappeared in front of us, blocking our path. They were huge up close, nearly taking up the space between the two warehouses.

My heart racing now, I tried to think of a plan of attack.

Retreat and stay close to the right wall,
Bran ordered.

Why?
I asked even as I obeyed him and retraced my steps, my feet sinking into stale water.

Sloshes mixed with the evil chuckles from the demons fil ed the air.

We need to be directly below the ones
above us,
Bran explained.
They’ll make better
targets when they lean over to see us properly.

I looked up. Only three demons remained on the roof of the building to our right, one of them crouching. Sure enough, they kept scooting closer to the edge to look down at us.

the edge to look down at us.

“Where do they think they’re going?” The pointed canines of the squatting one gleamed as she laughed, her evil cackle bouncing off the wal s.

Nosferatu.

Behind us, six more were on the ground.

Swal owing, adrenaline pumped in my veins. It was hard to explain the rush, the excitement of fighting demons. I gave up trying a long time ago.

Listen,
Bran said urgently.
When I say ‘now’,
blast the laughing fiend and her guards out of the
sky while I take care of the ones on the ground.

Was he crazy? There was no way I was letting him face eleven demons while I focused on only three.

“I wouldn’t plot anything if I were you, Llyr,” the female above us yel ed. “Come with us without a fight and we won’t hurt you and the pretty princess.”

“Who are you?” Bran cal ed out.

“You’l find out shortly, darling. Just play nice.

Defy me and I’l break every little bone in her delectable body while you watch,” she warned.

I was tired of every demoness threatening to hurt me while Bran watched. Did I have
victim
written on my forehead? My mind raced, searching for a solution. Even though the demoness stayed crouched in the same position, her people on the ground slowly drew closer, forming a grid around us, probably confident in their victory. Giving up without a fight wasn’t an option. It wasn’t the Guardians’ way.

Bran stopped moving, so did I.

“What did you do with our friends?” he cal ed out.

The demoness chuckled and answered, but I didn’t pay attention. My eyes fol owed the dark figures moving toward us. Something about being boxed in from al sides seemed familiar. My mind screamed at me to remember. Remember what?

I caught the tail end of demoness’

explanation, “…keeping your friends busy. They won’t get hurt too badly, but that’s the nature of our dealings, isn’t it? We battle and live to fight another day.”

Bran retorted something, but al I heard was the cold bite of Haziel’s voice in my head.
Stop
flapping your hands…you’re a psi…use your
mind….

Everything clicked. The scene reminded me of my last session with Haziel when he surrounded me with daggers and I stopped them without lifting a finger. Just locked on their energy and manipulated them.

When Bran tensed beside me, ready to charge forward, I clasped his arm.

No. Not yet,
I telepathed.

Why not?
Bran snapped.

I have a plan,
I answered. At the same time, I released the Kris Dagger.
Go…distract them…don’t
attack,
I ordered the dagger.

The dagger floated away from us, a dangling beacon of hope in a dark al ey fil ed with demons. As hoped, the demons stopped moving, their red eyes reflecting the green light from the blade as they looked at it. Awe, or perhaps fear, held them spel bound. I didn’t care which. Their obsession would help us escape.

Up.

The dagger lifted higher. The demoness above us stood. Her eyes glazed over as she too moved closer along the edge of the roof, the two guards trailing behind her. I had them exactly where I wanted them, but there was only so much damage the Kris Dagger could do out in the open without affecting every demon in a five mile radius, good, neutral or bad. The dagger didn’t discriminate.

Reaching inside the breast pockets of my coat, I pul ed out the ninja stars Bran had given me earlier. My gaze not shifting from the dark figures staring at the dagger, I stuck my hand in front of Bran.

Give me all your shurikens,
I whispered.

He didn’t question me, just shoved his hand in his coat pocket, removed more stars and pressed them in my hand.

Heart pounding, palms a bit sweaty, I almost dropped the sharp blades. The demons were stil mesmerized by the Kris, which moved and vibrated.

Closing my eyes, I locked on the ninja stars in my hands and directed them away from us, keeping them low so as not to draw attention. My hold wasn’t as firm as I would have liked it. As a result, the blades bobbed like giant snowflakes caught in a whirl wind.

A sneak attack,
Bran said, catching on.
Good
idea.

I know. Blend with me.

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