Veined (A Guardian of the Angels Novel) (16 page)

“Tut, tut, tut,” Maddy said. “Buying licorice without me!” She grabbed the rest of Marcus’ stick, poking her tongue out when he started protesting.

“You all good?” Jason asked, leaning down to kiss me. I turned so he caught my cheek.

“Yeah, I’m good.” Why hadn’t he come out searching for me earlier? Not that I wanted that, I was just surprised considering how clingy he’d—my sight latched onto Attic. Had he somehow known I needed space? I lowered my mental shield and Attic’s head snapped toward me.
Did you keep Jason from coming out?

A cheeky grin cornered his lips.

Huh. I knew it. Well, thanks, I guess.

Attic took out the cell from his pocket. His face smoothed of emotion, and from the snippets of conversation I caught, I knew this night out had come to an end.

CHAPTER 15

“YOU'RE NOT DOING IT RIGHT,”
Attic said
.
The past two days he’d grown more and more agitated, which he took out on me, stretching me to my limits. “Imagine you’re holding a ball out in front of you.”

My eyes were closed and I kept them that way. I didn’t want even a gli
mpse of Attic’s frustrated face. Hearing it in his voice was enough.

“Could you think of any other image?” I asked. “I’m terrible at any sport involving ba—other than gymnastics.” I felt my face heat up.

“Imagine you’ve got ribbons, then.” His voice sounded only a touch amused. “You’re a conduit for the sky. Feel the power in your Vein.” He touched my Vein and a forceful gale streamed out of my palms. “Open your eyes. Aim it at the middle can.”

I felt the gale as thick as a whip in my hand and I flicked it toward the branch that held the seven tin cans. The three middle ones blasted off the tree, flattening as thin as pennies as they hit a pine trunk.

“Good,” Attic said. “But you can do better. Those two other cans may have been fellow Guardians.” He took one of the cans from the branch and balanced it on his head. “As much as you may want otherwise, just hit the can.”

My heart rebelled, refusing to beat a couple of times, and when it conceded it galloped like a wild horse. “I can’t.”

“Lark, I’m as stiff as a portrait. If you can’t get this, how will you manage with a moving target?”

I poised my hand, barely a breeze wisped through my palm. I glanced briefly at the can. A false move and Attic’
d be the one bashed into a tree. He’d surely recover, but . . . I shook my head. “I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Jeez, Attic, what’s with the third degree? Just give me another task.”

Attic bounced the can onto his knee and started playing hacky with it.
Doing-doing-doing.

“I don’t have to be here you know. I can always choose
not to be
a Guardian and I could always blast whatever power I have and deplete my Vein. And the list is weighing heavily on that side right now.”

Doing-doing-doing.

“It’s mentally and physically exhausting. It’s painful being a Guardian—and not just the power part. I don’t fit in anywhere.”

Still Attic didn’t respond.

“But I could have everything I want. I could be normal. I don’t even know why I’m training like this, when in my heart I know I’ll go back to my family.”

“You wouldn’t find any Guardian here who’d give your parents their memories of you back, I’d make sure of that.”
Doing-doing-doing.

I clenched my fists. “Why not?”

“Because you owe this serious consideration. Just remember how you felt seeing that dead body. Remember how much you thought you’d give to have saved him.”
Doing-doing-doing.

With an angry flick of the hand, a lightning bolt met the tin in the air, millimeters from Attic’s nose, and sent it hurtling into the underbrush. Attic stared at me in surprise.

“So what, my family mean nothing?”

“On the contrary,” Attic said bluntly, coming over and yanking my face to look at him. “Of course they mean very much.” His blue eyes glared into mine. “But it’s not like they’re dead. You can still love them. Perhaps you can sacrifice their love for you, for the sake of other Guardians, humans, and angels. You can protect them. But, yes, at a personal cost.”

I hated him with everything I had left. Because with his words, the truth behind them, he was taking my family away from me. Again.

Attic chucked me over his shoulder and practically flew through the wood. In less than a minute, he dropped me on the tree house floor.

The dodgy wooden panels creaked as he paced. “Back there was the first time you’ve looked at me in days and I made you do it,” he finally said, “I hate I can’t read your mind anymore, Lark. What’s going on?”

I remained silent.

“You’ve been like this ever since I told you I was a portal.” Attic hit his hand against a beam and the tree house shook. “When you asked if I could portal you, I got upset, yes. But it wasn’t at you.” Attic glanced at me and went back to studying his gloves. “I killed someone. That’s why I wear gloves. Always.” His back dragged down the beam as he slumped onto the floor.

My own sorrow slithered aside. But I couldn’t find my voice, so I took down my shield.
What happened?

Attic drew invisible lines as if outlining the shape of a Vein. “It was before I knew I was a Guardian—before I’d Pheonixed. If I’d known, I’d never have touched her.”

Nothing but the wind commented, rustling the pine needles.

“I just hugged her. It was her birthday and I asked her what she most wanted. I thought I could just portal anywhere and get it for her. She wished that one day she could travel to Europe.” A tear trained down the side of Attic’s face and any anger I’d had at him faded. I shuffled forward. “All I wanted was for her to have what she wanted.”

My stomach churned. I knew where this was leading.

“The next thing I was standing in a bustling street in Rome with Tanya in my arms.” Attic closed his eyes. “She was so heavy. She’d never been that heavy before.”

I rested my finger over Attic’s lips. This was hard for him, he didn’t have to tell me anymore. Attic wrapped his arms around me, crushing me to his chest, resting his chin on my head. It was the first time I’d been so voluntarily close to him. I could hear his heart beating irregularly. Fast.

“I’m sorry, Attic.”

He tightened his grip. “She was a human. She had no power, she wasn’t strong enough.”

Did that mean he could touch Guardians?

I felt Attic’s head move. “If they’ve got enough Angel blood in their Vein. But I can’t—won’t—lay a naked finger on a human.”

“After what happened, why did you want to become a Guardian?” Only once the question slipped out was I aware just how much I’d wanted to know the answer. “I mean, it must have been a hard decision.”

“No. It wasn’t.”

I drew away from him
, shielding my mind, until I could see his face.

“Tanya died. She went to Eirene. I’d do anything to protect those gates from demons
—from the Derinyes. She deserves beauty and peace. I owe her
that
.” Attic’s face hardened with his resolve, and a stream of light brushing over him looked both frightening and dazzling. He sighed and his face softened.

“You really loved Tanya.” I studied the soft curvy lines of his face that spoke of love and care.

“Yes. I love her still.” Attic said, his voice sad. I moved off him, suddenly needing more distance between us.

Attic tilted his head and frowned. After a second, small creases bracketed his mouth and his eyes smiled.

“Tanya is my baby sister.” 

I started to blush. God, what was wrong with me? How could I possibly feel so relieved right now?

Attic raised a brow and shook his head. He disappeared for a minute and when he reappeared he carried two bottles. One sparkling water. And one whiskey.

“What a way to drown your sorrows,” I said. “And aren’t you, like, always on call?”

“Speaking of which—” Attic pulled out his tweeting cell. He’d barely lifted it to his ear when he snapped it shut and gave me an apologetic smile. “And for the record, alcohol doesn’t affect Guardians as much as humans.” He put the bottles on the small table and disappeared before I had any chance to comment.

It wasn’t like I couldn’t get down from the pine tree.
If I’d wanted
. But I couldn’t be bothered trying. I swiped the water bottle off the table but, before I swigged, changed my mind and grabbed the whiskey. If it didn’t affect Guardians it wouldn’t matter if I had a go at it. And I was curious to know what the brown liquid tasted like.

The first gulp I spluttered and the second burned as it ran down my throat. Still, there was something about the smokiness of the liquid that I liked. I drank more. 

A quarter through the bottle, I felt damn awesome. The afternoon air was getting a bit chilly, so I cranked the temperature up a notch and let a little sunlight bathe over me.

Halfway through the glorious whiskey
, I decided it would be a fine idea to sing. I hummed a tune and tapped to the beat. But it needed more. I eyed up the trees outside and smiled. Raising one hand, I commanded the breeze to rustle the leaves in time to my song. This definitely went on the
to be
part of the list. Who else could say they could use trees as percussion instruments?

At two-thirds down, I started to hiccup. The sound echoed in the tree house and I laughed until everything blurred with tears.

“Lark? What are you— ” Attic snatched the bottle off me.

“’ye, gimme. I’m nearly fimished.”

“Nearly?” Attic said in disbelief.  “There’s not a drop left. What the hell possessed you to drink all that?”

Hiccup. “don’t ‘fect no Guardian.” I frowned. “Hey, why’s the floor moving?”

“It’s a good thing you didn’t fall out of this tree. I said it didn’t affect Guardians
as much
as humans. Not that it doesn’t affect us at all. A whole bottle. Jeez. And this was damn fine whiskey, too.”

“Mmm, verrry yum.” Hiccup.

“The stuff I put up with when I’m around you . . .” Attic shook his head.

I pushed myself onto my feet, wobbling. Hmm, how
was
I going to get out of the tree?

“I’ll get you back to your room, sweets.”

Hands plucked me off the floor and the next thing I knew I was upside down and staring at Attic’s butt. “Yum, yum, mmm.” I shook as Attic rumbled beneath me.

Cool air rushed through my hair so it swatted my face. “Why’s ’he wind red?”

Attic planted me upright. “Drink all of this,” he said, pushing a bottle into my hands.

“You don’ tell me what ta do.”

“Do it or I’ll make you.”

“Make me.”

My mouth was yanked open and I swallowed the water reflexively. The whole following orders thing was definitely a
not to be
argument.

The bottle clunked to the deck. “Hey don’t think just becuz you’re damn gorgeous that you can littler.”

“Oh,
littler
Lark, you’ve just made my day.” A door opened and I was pushed inside. “Get some sleep.”

“It’s no’ even seven.”

“I expect you to be back training in an hour,” Attic said.

I flopped onto the bed. Attic grumbled, came into the room and started untying my boots. My muscles were suddenly too weak to fight him off. Or help. “With Angel blood your kidneys will process the alcohol much quicker than a human. Sleeping will make it even faster. You won’t have a hangover, either. Although you certainly deserve one.”

“What’s with you and ’lyse?” I asked, my eyelids shut. Attic paused from tugging my boot. I continued, “You were makin’ out with her in the car ‘hat night. She says you didn’t but I
hava
eyes.” I jiggled my leg and the boot slipped off. “When you left me at the ‘eastuarant I was t—empted to scratch . . . Porsche.”

That got Attic moving again. H
e tugged extra hard at the second boot. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear
that.
” After a moment he added, quietly, “And I wasn’t making out with her.”

“What then?”

“Toby had warned us of an Outbreak there,” Attic said bluntly, straightening me lengthwise on the bed and folding the blanket over me. “We were doing our job.”

“Huh. Why’d you take so ‘ong when they ‘tacked then?”

My mind was buzzing and my mouth was running away without me. But I could still discern the hurt and anger in Attic’s words. “We weren’t sure exactly where they would be. Only when I heard you scream, I knew.”

There was a moment, I had no idea how long, where neither of us spoke. Then I said, “Tanks for saving me, Attic. You kick-ed demon butt.”

I heard the tap water running in the bathroom, then Attic dropped something next to the bed. “As soon as you wake up, drink all of that.”

I tried to nod, but my head barely budged.

“Okay, now sleep it off.”

“’ttic?”

He sighed. “What now, Lark?”

“I really thought you were making out with her.”

His tone was more patient. “I wasn’t.”

“Good.”

Attic coughed and I heard him walk to the door. “Sleep, Lark.”

“Why? Don’ you want ta keep talkin’ with me?”

“Because you’ve now only got forty-five minutes before our next training.” In a voice so quiet I may have imagined it, he added, “And I don’t want to be having
this
conversation when you’re drunk.” He shut the door as he left, but I heard him pick up the bottle on the balcony and curse under his breath. “Not even a drop left.”