Read Keepers: A Timeless Novella Online
Authors: Laura Kreitzer
Tags: #fiction, #urban fantasy, #angels, #young adult, #demons, #ya
The patter of footsteps
sounded behind me. “Joey!” Jules called out.
I spun around just as she
rounded the corner from the hallway. “Munchkin,” I responded, a
smile rushing to my face—she always had that effect on
me.
“
Do you want to play
Monsters and Heroes?” she asked, her big, pleading eyes
hopeful.
Monsters and Heroes? My
smile widened. “What’s that?” I wondered, truly curious.
“
I don’t know,” she
admitted, a bit sheepish. “Chris said he’d teach me, though. I’m
sure he’d show you too.”
I blinked. Chris? The
Empyrean Guard Chris was going to teach five-year-old Jules how to
play Monsters and Heroes? It instantly made me uneasy, and I
thought that maybe I should supervise. I could only imagine the
many scenarios this “game” would bring forth. Chris wasn’t exactly
kid friendly.
Before I could respond, the
media frenzy outside grew louder as people cheered. I peeked
through the curtain just in time to see a guy winding up to pitch a
brick through my front window. I backed up with a speed I didn’t
know I had and placed my body between Jules and the window, holding
her to me. Glass cracked and shattered when the brick crashed
through. It thudded to the ground, scratching my wood floors. It
missed me by mere inches.
My previous smile was wiped
clean as I pulled Jules away from the fractured pane of
glass.
Everyone rushed into the
living room at the sound of breaking glass. Jenna looked between
the window and me. I still held Jules protectively, just in case
there was another attack. Jenna rushed forward and hugged us both,
love and fierce protectiveness radiating from her.
“
What happened?” she asked,
voice high-pitched.
“
That,” I growled, pointing
at the brick lying amongst the shattered glass.
“
You can’t live like this,”
Gabby said, concerned.
“
I know,” I replied, voice
clipped with rage. What if I hadn’t been there when the brick came
through my window? What if Jules had been hurt?
Andrew and Ehno approached
the brick. Andrew picked it up and removed the folded paper
attached to it.
“
How cliché,” Gabby jested,
trying to lighten the mood. “What’s it say?”
Andrew unfolded the paper
and read over it. His expression hardened, and it fell from his
hands. Before I could repeat Gabby’s question, the room grew
uncomfortable, and my ears popped. The window’s glass exploded
outward. The curtains were ripped to shreds and fluttered like
undulating flags in the rush of wind. Those outside screamed in
panic, and something about that noise satisfied me to no
end.
Andrew floated into the air
and through the shattered window. His skin glowed silver, and his
wings sprang from his back, sparkling like diamonds, winking at me.
The current of air from inside to out never waivered, and I weirdly
wondered where it was coming from. ’Cause the angel floating wasn’t
strange enough.
Those outside went
incredibly still, waiting for Andrew to speak. Hell, even I was
curious as to what he had to say. All cameras faced him.
“
Are you so uncivilized as
to risk an innocent child’s life?” he roared, his voice unnaturally
deep and unassailable. “Are you so cowardly as to threaten us
anonymously? You see a few photos and videos taken out of context
and prepared in a negative light—is that all it takes to turn you
into savages? Are you so quick to believe the worst in us? How have
we wronged you?”
A silent second ticked
by.
“
Now let me ask you: How
have you wronged us?” His tone sounded disappointed, which made the
accusation ten times worse.
The audience stared awed
and stunned and embarrassed by their actions.
“
If you’re going to cast
stones, aim for me this time,” Andrew continued, his anger mighty
and terrifying. The brick in the living room rose and floated
outside as if attached to invisible puppet strings. People parted
as it leisurely passed them. It stopped in front of the one who
threw it, though I had no idea how Andrew knew whom the culprit
was.
“
Go ahead,” Andrew
demanded. “Here I am. Throw it!”
The audience glanced
between them, and all remained silent, waiting. The blood drained
from Brick Thrower’s face. I folded my arms, curious to see what
this guy would do. After a full minute, he grabbed the brick out of
the air. He seemed determined. Delighted, almost. Those who egged
him on before backed away, shamed by their previous acceptance of
his actions—as they should be.
Andrew didn’t move or speak
as the guy held the brick like a football, pulling his hand back,
ready to throw. Gabby’s shoulders tensed, but she didn’t move,
which I knew took a great deal of restraint. Those outside,
however, backed up even further, as if the brick was diseased. A
nasty smirk spread on the guy’s face seconds before he threw the
brick. It slammed into Andrew’s chest with a muted thud, and he
grunted. Gabby ran forward while everyone outside stared in horror.
No one could believe the guy had actually thrown a brick at an
angel. That was the first time I’d seen such blatant irony play out
in front of me.
Gabriella turned toward the
crowd, her hand held out to show it was covered in Andrew’s silver
blood, and gave them a disgusted look that said everything and
nothing at all. Gasps rang out, and a buzz of disbelief spread
through the audience as they witnessed Andrew and Gabriella’s
tender interactions.
Brick Thrower looked
supremely pleased with himself. Well, so did I as soon as my eyes
landed on the FBI agent making his way through the crowd.
Seriously, I had to give it to Andrew and his mental link. He
planned this stunt all along. The tall, bald man in a pristine
black suit, who made a shadow over Brick Thrower’s smaller frame,
was supposed to be in Italy. I couldn’t remember ever being this
happy to see him. Agent Patrick Salantro. Indeed, the angel had
style, and I had to appreciate the way he handled Brick Thrower.
Watching Agent Salantro cuff the guy without giving him any warning
was extremely rewarding. I grinned as all the news cameras captured
his arrest, which would hopefully let the world know that violence,
even toward angels, would not be tolerated.
Beside me, Jenna had Jules
in her arms. She whispered something in Jules’s ear that made her
giggle. Jenna kissed her cheek and set her down. Jules started
toward the window, and I reached out to stop her.
“
Let her go,” Jenna
murmured, a mischievous gleam in her eyes.
Outside, the news cameras
turned back to us now that Brick Thrower had been shoved into the
back of a cop car. Uneasy, I stepped forward to keep an eye on
Jules. Though the majority of the glass blew outside, and she wore
shoes, it still made me nervous. Plus, only moments before, the
crowd had taken on a lynch mob mentality. Not exactly the best
setting for a little girl to be in. Firen rushed forward, lifted
Jules over the windowsill, and placed her gently on the ground next
to Andrew and Gabby. It was as if Firen knew exactly what was going
to happen. I tried to read her facial expression, but she appeared
just as fierce and angry as ever. I glanced back at Jenna, who was
fighting a smile.
What the hell?
I turned back in time to
see Jules tug on Andrew’s shirt. He glanced down at her, and his
expression changed the second he laid eyes on the five-year-old. I
nearly snorted at the sight; he wore the same goofy grin I always
did whenever Jules was involved. It was impossible not to; she was
a special and sweet child and undoubtedly related to Jenna in every
way.
“
Yes?” Andrew asked. His
grin transformed, making it goofier, if that was even
possible.
Jules turned anxious, her
fingers twisting together, and glanced at Jenna. She nodded for
Jules to continue. Jules bit her lip and stared up at Andrew, who
was amused now.
“
Uncle Andy?”
It was a good thing I
wasn’t drinking anything because I would have spewed everything out
my nose and choked to death. Andrew’s eyebrows came together at the
name, and I had to hold in the laughter that decided to rapidly
bubble to the surface.
“
That guy who threw the
brick?”
He nodded, instantly
turning uncomfortable. “What about him?”
Jules lips quivered, and I
feared she was about to cry. Then she asked, “He bit off more than
he could chew, didn’t he?” She made a motion as if she was biting
into a tough piece of steak.
Gabriella’s lips sealed
shut as she tried to hide her grin, though she failed at it when
Andrew asked, “Was he eating?” He turned desperately to Gabriella,
confused.
Jules wasn’t about to cry,
she was trying not to laugh! She giggled then, the sound tinkling
and odd in the outlandish setting.
Andrew straightened and
shook his head at Gabriella. “Did you see him eat?”
Gabriella had a hand over
her mouth, but there was no way she could hide her hysterical
laughter. I had to turn away, I was laughing so hard. I had to give
Jenna credit: even in this situation, she could make me laugh. And
using Jules to do it? Genius!
CHAPTER 5: EXCUSE MY
FRENCH
This was all Gabby’s fault,
I’d decided as I put my phone on speaker, listening to the music as
I held for Director Tom Morris. Ever since I’d met Gabby, my house
had become a warzone. And no, that wasn’t meant metaphorically.
Between Empyrean Guard attacks and now the media, my house had
practically gotten the royal treatment in remodeling. Or, as my
wallet liked to remind me, the hardware store had been living off
my paychecks lately. My homeowner’s insurance told me they wouldn’t
cover the damage first caused by Firen kicking Chris through my
kitchen wall. A few days later, the fight between Chris and Q had
destroyed my living room. That time my homeowner’s insurance
company politely sent me a letter in the mail to inform me they
would be dropping me as a client, which was ridiculous because they
hadn’t paid out a dime for the damage.
This was why I had propped
my feet on my coffee table as I watched Chris do manual labor.
There was just something justified about it. Unsurprisingly, there
was a pile of plank wood stacked in my backyard from previous
mishaps, if they could even be called mishaps. Chris easily carried
two large pieces of wood inside and shoved them against the broken
window. The cold rush of air was cut off, and I finally felt like I
could breathe again, as if the world outside wasn’t just enduring
the winter months but was fighting off a vast emptiness of
bone-chilling wind. Honestly, I was just happy the media couldn’t
see inside my living room.
Maybe I should
board up all my windows and become a recluse
, I darkly mused to myself. The idea seemed rather appealing,
especially after my neighbor’s nosy tendencies.
Following the cuteness that
was Jules, the media went wild, refusing to get off my lawn. Though
I knew it would only agitate the crowd, I asked Firen to stay
outside to keep people away from the house while Chris boarded up
the window. She agreed, knowing this would cause more problems, but
she also felt the same way I did. Safety first. When the crowd
refused to back down, Firen had exploded in anger and used magic to
fling trespassers into the street. It wasn’t like any of us had
protested, but it made things all the worse, which was expected. I
pictured having to install bulletproof glass and build a bomb
shelter in the backyard to protect Jenna and Jules. Okay, that
would be going a bit overboard, but with the way the media and
protesters were acting, who could blame me?
Jenna was clearly upset
that everything went downhill after Andrew had calmed the raging
crowd. So much so that she locked herself and Jules in the bedroom.
I couldn’t blame Jenna—my heart had grinded to a halt when that
brick came through the window. To think of those outside egging
each other on to act out because Firen was keeping them away made
me nervous. Though I didn’t stop Firen, nor did I want her to stop.
People were overstepping, and a huge hole in the side of my house
made those outside think of it as open season, or in my mind, an
eighties sitcom.
“
Sorry for putting you on
hold for so long,” Tom said. I jerked, forgetting I was on hold. I
turned the speakerphone option off as I held the phone to my
ear.
Firen came inside just
then, looking flustered and infuriated. She didn’t say anything as
she stalked past, and I rose to my feet. For some reason I had the
urge to pace. My house felt unsafe and unwelcoming, like aliens had
taken up residence and constantly threatened me with cattle
prods.
“
Agent?” Tom
queried.
I sighed into the phone,
close to my breaking point. “If you don’t do something about the
reporters and protestors, I’m going to do something you don’t want
the news to see,” I threatened.
Normally, this was not
something I would ever say to my boss, but I had a legit excuse. I
had reasons for being stressed and upset. If anything, the Director
should be offering me a trip to the Bahamas, all expenses on
him.
The Director cleared his
throat; I’d most certainly taken him off guard. For a moment I
thought he was going to chew me out, but after a steadying breath,
he laughed. It wasn’t a funny laugh, or a “that’s so weird it’s my
only response” laugh. He was furious, and the laughter was his way
of releasing steam.