Betrayed (48 page)

I did see it from his point of view, probably better than he did. He was desperate and acting irrational y, but I doubted he’d like hearing that now. I turned to check Lottius’ progress. The blue veins were faint, the wound gone, leaving no visible scar.

One second she lay on the bed, the next she was on her knees, her cold fingers wrapped around my throat like steel clamps. An energy bal appeared in her hand. Not the lethal
omni,
just your average
omega
bal with swirling orange core and outer ribbons of yel ow lights.

“Have you any idea how much I suffered this past week, Guardians?” she snarled.

I couldn’t answer her, her grip tightening and making breathing difficult.

“Let her go, Lottius,” Bran ordered and extended his hand toward her just as I trapped her psi again.

Her eyes widened.

Let go of me,
I ordered her.

Her grip around my throat loosened until her hands opened and dropped to her sides. The energy bal fizzled out.

“You put that vile thing inside me and deserve to suffer, too,” Lottius whined. “Both of you.” The urge to vanquish her fil ed me. Why should she, who was so evil, live freely, while Bran fought tooth and nail for every moment? Even as the question crossed my mind, I knew the answer. Bran wanted to be good while demons like Lottius were content in their evil ways.

“You had your people break my bones, we’re even now,” I said calmly, though anger burned inside of me like molten rock, my hold on her psi not weakening.

“No, we’re not,” she snarled.

I studied her then nodded. “You’re right. We
were
when I removed the salt. Now that you’ve tried to kil me again, you owe me your life,” I stressed.

“Never,” she retorted.

Her face contorted as I let my thoughts flow into her. She gripped her head and fel back on the bed. “What…what are…are you… doing to me?” she asked.

“Feeding you memories you’l never erase.” I leaned close to her thrashing body. Her twisted face a story of agony. “You feed on people’s miseries, and it hurts to think about their happiness, doesn’t it?

Children running in the park with bal oons, chasing dogs, couples getting married. Don’t worry, the pain won’t last. As soon as you accept you can no longer feed off human unhappiness, it wil go away. When you see a person suffering, you’l help them instead of sel ing them more misery.”

Her mouth opened and closed but no sounds came out.

“We’re going to leave now,” I added, studying the demon, “you stay here until your friends come to get you.”

Stil dazed, eyes unfocused, she nodded.

I let go of her psi and moved away from the bed without looking at Bran. Kim stood near the door watching us. I didn’t notice when her entered the room.

“Where did you get the idea to do that?” Kim asked.

I shrugged. She didn’t know about mean, old Sorenson.

“If I can put thoughts into humans’ heads and change their behavior, why not demons?” I replied.

Lottius watched us, her eyes clearing. “It was just an experiment. I didn’t know if it would work. It stil might not.”

Bran led the way out of the room. As soon as we stepped outside, Lottius’ people rushed inside.

Izzy, Sykes, and Remy were exactly where we left them although they looked more disheveled. Tel -tale scorch marks on the ground said Solange had stopped by. The sulfur scent hung in the air.

My gaze found Izzy, who stil looked pissed. I wanted to ask her how it went, but at that moment, I couldn’t care less. I felt numb, detached, like someone who wasn’t real y there.

“Wel ?” Kim asked.

Izzy sighed. “She got away. She was a better fighter, faster and stronger, but I knifed her right arm before she teleported. The wound was deep, so it’l be awhile before she self-heals, unless she decides to pay Cardinal Hsia a visit. Either way, we’l know who the traitor is as soon as we get home and the Cardinals convene a meeting. Oh, and she left this behind.” A red bangle dangled from her finger.

The evidence seemed to point to Mrs. D. Why The evidence seemed to point to Mrs. D. Why would she spy for Valafar?

“We saw Zedekiah leave,” Remy said, drawing my attention. “Did he give you anything?”

“Yeah,” Bran said. “I was beginning to doubt the List existed, but it does. It is now on Jarvis, the island where the mortal combat is taking place on Saturday. I signed the contract to participate.”

“How can you participate?” Sykes asked, frowning.

“Yeah,” Kim added. “Last time I heard, you were a Guardian, not a demon.”

His gaze connected with mine. “My mother was a Lazari. I’l be fighting for the House of Lazari.” Silence fol owed.

Remy shook his head. “Llyr, you can’t—”

“I can and wil ,” Bran said stubbornly. “This is something I must….” His voice trailed off and he sniffed.

A faint blend of familiar stench teased my nose, sending a shiver up my spine. I studied the neighboring buildings, trying to locate its origin. Was the Lazari scent growing stronger?

“They’re back,” Izzy warned.

“And they’re not alone,” Bran added.

“No, we’re not,” Solange’s voice rang out.

The lights went out on the block and inky darkness, thick and suffocating, descended on us.

Even the glow from our weapons didn’t filter through.

I held my breath, trying to keep the pungent smel from fil ing my lungs and suffocating me. My brain told me to reach for my weapon, but I couldn’t move.

Something breathed hot, moist air on the back of my hand, then growls fol owed. Now I knew the cause of the rotten flesh smel s—hel hounds.

Shrieks and shouts fil ed the air. Fighting panic, heart thumping, I moved my hand stealthily toward my dagger, but sharp teeth sank into my wrist. I opened my mouth to scream, but since I’d been holding my breath for so long, I sucked in the stench instead. Bran, or was it Remy, shouted a warning, but I was beyond hearing anything. I tried to order the Kris Dagger to attack, but another set of teeth closed on my leg and jerked me backwards.

This time, the screams fil ing the air were mine. Not able to see the ground, the impact was sudden and jarring. Pain sliced through my head as blackness sucked me under.

***

The sound of people arguing woke me.

“It’s been over twenty-four hours. What did you do to her?” a low-pitched voice demanded. I recognized it as Dante’s.

“Nothing. She’s weak. Without her dagger, she’s nothing,” a female snapped. Solange.

“He won’t be happy if you drained her energy out of vindictiveness,” Dante warned.

“Do I look like I’d do something that stupid?”

“Yes,” Dante snapped.

She cursed him. “Leave me alone. She’l be up and ready before he gets here.”

The voices faded into silence, the eerie kind that made your flesh crawl and your heart leap to your throat. I tried to lift my eyelids, but something held them down. Where was I? From the conversation between Dante and Solange, it was now Friday night, the night of my party, the night of the mortal combat. Bran. My chest hurt thinking about what he must be going through. I had to get up and help him. There was no way he could win without me.

I tried to sit up but couldn’t move. So this was what it felt like when a demon sucked your psi energy dry—stil as a mummy, the only thing ticking was my brain.

Where was my dagger?
Come to me.

I waited. Nothing happened.

I command you to come.
Again nothing happened. Painful images of Bran’s mangled body flashed in my head. I had no idea where we were.

Maybe L.A. or Jarvis Island, wherever that was. My friends were most likely power sources for some Lazari. Grampa was probably searching for us.

Regret crushed my heart. I wished we hadn’t fought the last time I saw him. Kylie and my human friends likely came to my house early like they promised and found no one around. Not that the party was important anymore. I just wanted to find Bran and the others, and get out of here.

The lure of darkness tugged at me. I fought it and failed.

***

Distant cheering teased my ears as I regained consciousness. The sounds surged then subsided. Grampa must be listening to the radio. He only did that to catch news of the wacky and bizarre, only did that to catch news of the wacky and bizarre, like the demonic incidents reported in the tabloids the general human population assumed were fabricated. If only they knew.

This time, I managed to peel my eyes open, slowly turning my head to study my surroundings.

Taking in the familiar dresser, computer desk, and chair, I smiled. I was in my room. It had al been a dream, a very bad dream. We weren’t ambushed by the Lazari. The holes on the drywal were gone. Aunt Janel e must have fixed them while we were hunting.

I searched the face of the clock on my bedside table.

Five-thirty. I must have decided to take a nap after my session with Haziel. My stomach growled.

Footsteps approached my room. I frowned.

The carpet in the living room often muted footsteps.

Maybe I now had heightened hearing like Leo. That was an ability I wouldn’t mind possessing. The footsteps stopped outside my door.

“Grampa?”

The door-knob turned, and a head popped in.

Young face, slanted eyes, long black hair cascading past taut shoulders.

I sat up slowly. “
Daisensei
Kenta? What are you doing in my house?”

Smiling, he stepped inside the room and closed the door. He wore the same clothes as yesterday, jeans and a navy-blue polo shirt, but his right arm was bandaged.

Flashes of conversation with Izzy zipped through my head.
She was a better fighter, faster
and stronger, but I knifed her right arm before she
teleported. The wound was deep, so it’ll be awhile
before she self-heals….

“You! You’re Valafar’s guide…the traitor.” Adrenaline shot through my veins as I jumped to my feet. Dizziness washed over me, and I crumpled like a rag-dol to the floor. He didn’t even come help me.

Instead, he crossed his arms and leaned against the door, his expression hard. “I guess you’d see me that way. You’re a child and don’t understand. A man’s reputation means everything to him. Once gone, he must do whatever he can to rebuild it. If the doors are shut on his face, he has nothing to lose.”

The resentment in his voice didn’t make sense.

“Who destroyed your reputation? How’s spying for Valafar helping you?” I grabbed the duvet cover and pul ed myself up.

“The Cardinals betrayed me first,” he said bitterly. “I trained to be a Cardinal, until a group of us pul ed a senseless prank and they kicked me out of the program. They said it was my idea. I was reduced to working as head of security with the High Council.” He sneered. “Then you came along, and I had a chance to redeem myself. I was going to be famous for training the most powerful Nephilim of al time.”

I stopped plucking at my duvet and frowned, Kenta’s bitterness fading into the background.

Something wasn’t right with my cover. The texture was wrong, silkier. I studied the items on the dresser. The lotions and creams, even the hairbrushes looked like mine, but they weren’t the brands I used. The dresser had elegant detail on the legs and had drawer knobs different from mine. Too scared to open them to see what was inside, I studied the rest of the room—the little dents and tape marks I left on the wal s, the slightly cracked coat peg beside the door. Al were missing. Final y, I looked at Kenta. He’d stopped talking.

Swal owing though my throat had gone dry, I noticed the malice in his smile and a jolt of realization shot through me.

“This is
not
my room,” I stated firmly.

“I wondered when you’d notice the difference.

But it’s pretty close. I helped them with that,” he bragged.

“Them?” I asked even though I knew the answer.

His smile widened. “Valafar’s people.” Confusion washed over me. Why would they make a replica of my bedroom? “We were attacked by the Lazari, led by Solange. Not Valafar.” Sadness flashed in Kenta’s eyes as though he pitied me. “There’s so much you don’t know, my dear. So much you’re going to learn in the coming weeks and months. I wil train you, Lil, guide you like I was meant to do.” His eyes flashed with hatred. “The Guardians took that away from me. After Gavyn sneaked into the val ey, they didn’t just strip me of my title as the head of security, they brought my old tormentor to take over your training and sent me home to work with unexceptional kids who wil never reach the level of skil s and abilities to bring glory reach the level of skil s and abilities to bring glory and prominence to their trainer. Who’s having the last laugh now?” He moved closer, dragging the chair from the computer desk, and sat.

“You used Mrs. D,” I mumbled, looking around for a weapon. Blood pounded in my ears and although stil weak, I planned to escape. But to where? I had no idea where I was. I needed to keep Kenta focused on me. “Everyone thinks she’s the guide, but it’s you. You’re the shape-shifter.” Locking on the hairbrush, I tried to lift it off the dresser. It didn’t move, not an inch. Crap. Someone
did
drain my psi energy. It explained the weakness. “You were the one lurking around the weapons room, and I thought it was Mrs. D. She’s always sweet, but yesterday she acted weird.”

“I was looking for a Cardinal amulet when you appeared. I was sure you saw through me when I led you to Azure’s room, left, and returned as me.” His features shifted, his hair grew longer and his clothes changed until a carbon copy of Mrs. D replaced him.

Smirking, he changed back.

Everything made sense. “You also came to my door and pretended to be Izzy. I should have known when you didn’t remember the meeting we just had. And you wore the bangle like you did last night, so people would think it was Mrs. D. How could you do that to someone you love?” Kenta laughed, the evil sound bouncing off the wal s of the fake room. “I loved her once, but she refused to come home with me and even took over my job as head of security. Taking the blame for my spying is a just punishment for disloyalty.”