Betrayed (34 page)

“Of course. The dagger not only enhances
your
powers, it can do the same thing to your fel ow Guardians’ when they weaken during battle. Why do you think it is so important to both Cardinals and demons? Your friends wil depend on you when they’re most vulnerable.”

It made perfect sense. The dagger rejuvenated Bran and the others during the battle the night we defeated Coronis. The moment had slipped my mind until now.

“Stop that,” the images reprimanded sharply when I poked at the next one. “It is important that you differentiate between a projection and the real thing without touching. During a battle, demons—

especial y the more powerful nature-benders—can confuse you with their projections while their real selves come from behind and finish you off.” I shuddered at his brutal narration, imagining Dante….no, many Dantes in a battle field. I’d probably drop down in a dead faint.

“I want you to find the real me,” he added.

“Like this?” I reached out to touch an arm, but the image stepped back. Al of them did.

“Not physical y,” he said in an exasperated tone. “Touching, touching, touching, stop that deplorable human habit. Use your mind. Close your eyes and study the psi energies.”

Touching…deplorable human habit…blah
blah blah….

No, paying attention to his rants saved me last night, so I’d better listen and learn. I closed my eyes and moved from one orb to another. There was no difference in their psi energies. It was as if Haziel had split into twelve.

Stopping where I started, I scowled. “I can’t tel the difference,” I griped.

“Of course not. You did not put much effort into it,” the voices scolded. “Try again.” After several loops, I pul ed the dagger from its sheath. It vibrated briefly, the ancient words etched along the blade glowing. I couldn’t read them, though I understood the language when spoken.

Haziel said there was no need to learn, but the way I saw it, one must understand what went into one’s body. The words dimmed on the dagger as they inked under my skin, bringing with them the extra oomph of angelic power.

Eyes closed, I studied the psi energies one more time. One shone steady and bright like the North Star while the rest flashed and ebbed like the mirage they represented. I fol owed the bright one, stopped, and lifted my eyelids.

Haziel glared at me with disapproval. Then he shook his head and smiled. A genuine smile, yel owed teeth flashing and skin crinkling. I grinned back. The other images disappeared in thin air.

“That was cheating.” He wagged a gnarled finger. “However, I wil let it pass because last night you made us al proud. Now let us work on your lightning powers.”

The bolts became easier to create though I had to find the anger from somewhere—my frustration with Bran and the way he kept avoiding me. Once again, I fought the excitement surging through me when I created the bolts. The ability made me feel invincible, like nothing could touch me.

As I passed the rotunda, Mrs. D left her class and signaled me to stop. She seemed more serious than usual. Hopeful y, she wasn’t planning to discuss than usual. Hopeful y, she wasn’t planning to discuss last night and the surveil ance mishap. I didn’t hold her responsible.

“Hey, Mrs. D,” I said cheerful y.

“Hi, sweetheart. You missed yesterday’s class,” she said, crossing her arms.

I cocked my brow, not fol owing.

“You were supposed to talk to my students,” she reminded me.

“Oh no!” I covered my mouth with my hand.

“I’m so sorry.”

She smiled. “That’s okay. You had a lot going yesterday. You’re okay though, right?”

“Oh yes.” I looked toward her class and felt ten times worse when I saw students peeking out of the glass panel at us. “Can I do a make-up class?”

“Sure, sweetie. Any time next week wil do.

Just ping me with the day.”

“Thanks, Mrs. D.”

I waved and headed toward the exit hal way.

Something Valafar had said teased my mind, but I couldn’t grasp it. In fact, now that I’d burned off my frustration at the pit, I could look at our conversation objectively and see through his attempts to manipulate me.

Bran said Valafar would try to destroy my trust in everyone I loved. If Valafar stopped messing with me, he and I could even have a relationship of some kind. He was an interesting character, and I enjoyed talking to him today…until he started fil ing my head with stuff about Bran.

I real y needed to talk to Bran. A quick psi scan made me sigh. He stil wasn’t in the val ey and neither was Celeste. Back at home, I fixed myself a sandwich and tried to stay busy with laundry and searching for an invitation template for my party.

Nothing seemed right.

Or maybe it was my sour mood. Usual y, I spent Saturdays with Bran or my human friends.

Since McKenzie blew me off, I refused to cal her first. Kylie stil wasn’t talking to me. I missed her. She and I would have discussed the problem I was having with Bran and laughed about it. A few months ago Cade kept things from Kylie and they almost broke up. I didn’t dare cal Amelia and Nikki. They rarely went anywhere without Kylie, and her name was sure to come up.

Restless, I pinged Izzy and Kim to see what they were doing. No answer. Everyone had something to do except me. Feeling a bit lonely, I tried reading, but the book on mediums was depressing. None of my usual fantasy books held much appeal. As a last resort, I tried the guys. A psi scan indicated they were around. Maybe I could hang out at their place and play a few video games.

What are you guys doing?
I asked Remy.

Sykes is out, and I’m in the kitchen.

My mouth watered at the thought of Remy in his kitchen. The guy cooked mouth-watering dishes.

Why hadn’t I thought of talking to Remy before? He was an amazing listener, the perk of being the only boy in the middle of four sisters.

Can I stop by?

Sure, kiddo.
He sounded preoccupied.

I teleported to their foyer, and the sweet aroma of cinnamon and sugar greeted me. I licked my lips as my mouth watered. A female voice from the kitchen made me pause. I’d die of embarrassment if Remy had some girl with him and I intruded.

“Remy?” I cal ed.

Kitchen.
He sounded annoyed.

I grimaced and debated whether to leave.

Discussing Bran with him was wrong to begin with and….I was bored out of my skul . If he had company, I’d hate to be a third wheel.

Remy appeared in the doorway separating the living room from the kitchen. He had on his
Kiss
the Earth
apron and a cloth hung over one shoulder, which he used to wipe flour off his hands. His peach-fuzz and beard were gone, leaving behind clear golden-brown skin. He looked much better. I often wondered if I would have fal en for him or Sykes if Bran hadn’t come along. Both guys were cute in their own way. While Sykes made me laugh, Remy was dependable.

His gray eyes narrowed. “You coming in or leaving?” he asked in a pleasant enough voice, the one in the kitchen quiet.

“I haven’t decided yet.”

He chuckled. “When you make up your mind, you know where to find me.”

How like him to never push. I fol owed him, the scrumptious scent pul ing me in more than the need to talk about Bran. The female voice came from the TV, and Remy’s gaze kept shifting from the screen TV, and Remy’s gaze kept shifting from the screen to the bowl in his hand. Flour and baking paraphernalia littered the kitchen counter. On the side counter cooled two trays of mouth-sized, freshly baked pastries. Not only did they look appetizing, they smel ed great.

“Try them,” Remy said as though aware of my hungry gaze, but his concentration didn’t shift. He pressed the remote to stop the program, scooped a spoonful of the mixture from the bowl and dropped it onto a baking sheet. A wave of his hand and the lumps changed shape, becoming stars with different sides.

I moved closer, picked one of the cooling snacks, and took a bite. It was flaky, the creamy fil ing sweet and tart. I hummed as I chewed and swal owed. “What is this?”

Remy chuckled. “I don’t know. You know how it is. I try something new, it becomes a number in my recipe book and I move to the next one.” Without breaking a beat, he whipped around with the uncooked treats, opened the oven, and placed the tray inside.

He was such a contradiction, an Earth Cardinal Guardian trainee who shaped lethal weapons in seconds, yet those same hands created the most mouth-watering treats. He made cooking seem too easy.

Leaning against the counter, he crossed his arms and studied me with speculative eyes. “What’s up, kiddo?”

Now that I had his undivided attention, I didn’t know where to start. Instead, I brushed crumbs off the counter and mumbled, “You shaved off your moustache and beard.”

“It was an experiment. Are you real y here to discuss my facial hair?”

I hadn’t come to eat either, yet here I was.

“What did you think of what happened last night with Valafar’s men?”

He raised his brow, obviously surprised by my question. “Does my opinion matter that much to you?”

I shrugged, my cheeks warming. The question just popped in my head because I had no idea how to bring up Bran and the List. “I want to know what you’d think or do if you were in my shoes.” His expression grew thoughtful. “Sending his men to watch over you is a nice gesture, but I’d stil question his motive. He’l probably cal you and reprimand you for disobeying his orders.”

“He already did this morning before I went to the pit.”

Concern flickered in his grey eyes. “What did he say?”

Great! He just gave me the perfect opening. I rested my elbows on the counter and gave him a tiny smile. “He said Bran knew about the danger in that neighborhood and stil took us anyway.” Remy frowned and leaned back against the kitchen island. “That’s bul . Llyr would never put you in danger. The guy is nuts about you. From what I heard, he was the one who insisted we don’t go unless the CP kept up surveil ance while we were there.”

I grinned. “He did?”

Remy scowled. “Haven’t you spoken with him about this?”

I shook my head, feeling bad for letting Valafar get to me. “He’s not around.”

“His brother’s getting worse. Talk it over with him. Don’t let Valafar jerk you around with lies and innuendos. The last person who could ever betray you or the Guardians is Llyr.” He shook his head. “Is everything okay between you two?”

I started to nod then ended up shaking my head. “He’s stressed out about everything—the List, his brother. And now he’s always snappy.” My throat closed. I had to clear it before continuing. “I just want the old Bran back. He’s always gone and when he’s around he’s never real y here. Am I being selfish?” Remy nodded. “Put yourself in his shoes. He has a brother who might not make it, a List he must find, and the girl he loves has problems a mile long.” Trust Remy to give it to me straight. I pursed my lips. “You’re supposed to be the nice one.” Remy sighed, took a step that brought him to the other side of the counter where I leaned. He covered my hands with his and squeezed. “That was me being nice. Both of you have a lot to deal with and fighting is not going to make them go away. Do you want to lose him?”

I shook my head so hard my gypsy earrings danced and brushed my cheeks. “Of course not.”

“Then give the guy a break and let him sort his problems.” He patted my hand and went to the his problems.” He patted my hand and went to the sink.

Should I take the plunge and bring up the
contracts Valafar mentioned?
I chewed my lower lip and watched Remy plug the sink and turn on the water to soak the dirty utensils.

Aware of my scrutiny, he stopped cleaning and cocked his head. “What? I
do
clean up after myself.”

I laughed, needing the comic relief. Remy and Sykes had a system that worked. He cooked while Sykes washed up. Bran and I had a relationship that worked, too. I should learn to trust him more. If he wanted me to learn about the contracts and the reason we couldn’t link or blend our energies, he’d tel me. After al , we were soul mates, which meant we’d be together forever.

“Do you believe in
alrunes,
Remy?” I blurted.

He chuckled. “Where did you hear that archaic word?”

My face burned. “I stumbled on it when I was in the library the other night. I guess no one uses it anymore.”

“Or believes in it,” he added.

“Why not?” My annoyance must have shown because he looked up from the sink and frowned.

“Our forefathers, the fal en angels, took many human wives. To discourage that practice among her fol owers, Xenia came up with
alrunes.
Every Guardian had a soul mate, someone they’re destined to be with. They have synchronized energies—feel each other’s pain and emotions.” He shuddered as though the very thought repulsed him.

“Why the interest?”

“Just thought I’d ask,” I said with fake indifference. “So you real y don’t believe in soul mates?”

He shook his head. “I believe you choose who you love and work hard at making the relationship work.”

Laughing, I rol ed my eyes. “You’re the least romantic person I’ve ever met. I’ve got to go.” I scooped two more of the pastries and teleported to my bedroom, landing on my bed.

***

That evening, the doorbel rang when I was in the middle of printing the invitations. Hopeful y, it was Bran. A psi scan proved me wrong. The person on the other side of the door was human, not a Guardian.

“Don’t you answer your cel anymore? I cal ed, like, a gazil ion times,” McKenzie snapped as soon as I opened the door and she stepped inside.

I stared at her in disbelief. Where was her
forgive me for being a sucky friend
, or did I have a sign on my forehead that said
crap on Lil week
?

“My cel isn’t working. What are you doing here?” My tone was unwelcoming, but I didn’t care. In fact, I refused to close the door, just turned to study her and hoped she’d explain whatever brought her to my house then leave.

She slammed the door shut. “Brrr, cold.