Awakened (21 page)

“Fascination,” Bran said. “You should see her battle. Her canines elongate.”

“Is she, like, scary looking?”

“No, mesmerizing.”

I frowned, hating the admiration in his tone. “So, you think she’s hot?”

“But old enough to be my grandmother, Sunshine,” he corrected, grinning. “The
Nosferatus
are beautiful people, but too arrogant and power hungry. I didn’t hang out much with their crowd in L.A. and there were none on the island. Knowing Coronis, she probably kicked them out.”

“What’s she like?”

He shook his head, his lips twisting in distaste. “Evil, and her people are a different breed, which is exactly what she does. Breed them.” His voice changed, became cold. “She has an agenda to rule this world. That, of course, means destroying the Circle of Twelve and the Guardians. But she’s not above using Guardians in her crazy scheme to create a generation of beings more powerful than the previous ones.”

I shivered. “She practices selective breeding?”

“And gets rid of those with minimal powers, calls them worthless, while the rest enter a program to create more powerful Hermonites. I plan to get my sister out before she turns sixteen.”

“When is her birthday?”

“In two weeks.” His voice caught.

I covered his hand, and he interlocked our fingers. Once again, his emotions brimmed over and into me. He hated Coronis but also feared her. I wished I could reassure him that his sister would be okay. The Cardinals must mount a rescue operation as soon as possible.

For a moment we sat in silence. I shivered though I wasn’t sure whether it was from the sudden drop in temperature or Bran’s predicament.

“You’re cold,” Bran said.

“That’s okay.” I’d left my hoodie in the truck.

He got up, picked up his coat from the ground where he dropped it and draped it around my shoulders. I turned my head to thank him. He stood with his back to the higher peaks of the mountain, his tall frame silhouetted against the sky. “Thanks. What about you?”

“I’m fine. I don’t mind the cold and never get sick”

I snuggled under the coat, pulled the collar to my ears and took a deep inhale. His scent clung to the fabric. “Me neither. It wasn’t until Grampa mentioned it that I realized I’ve never seen the inside of a hospital except when he was volunteering.”

Bran’s eyebrow shot up. “Volunteering?”

“I’d accompany him when he performed magic tricks for terminally ill kids.”

“A Cardinal pulling rabbits out of hats? Unbelievable. So what was life like with him in the circus?” He pulled the tails of his shirt from his pants.

I blinked when he started to unbutton his shirt. What was he doing? I forced myself to focus on our conversation. “Fun…busy. We didn’t leave Stramboni until I was about ten, but before that, I never missed a show.”

“Were you ever part of his act?”

I laughed at the idea, my voice sounding funny to my ears. The purposeful way Bran was undoing that shirt bothered me. It was freezing. Why would he want to remove his shirt? “No way. He tried to make me his sidekick a few times, but I sucked. I mean, I’d gawk and get spooked along with the audience. We decided…what are you doing?”

“Remember I wanted to show you something. This is it, so keep talking or I’ll chicken out.”

It was hard to imagine him scared of anything. Or maybe he had to show me something icky. Please, don’t let him turn into Freddie Kruger or Dr. Jekyll junior. I never watched horror movies because I hated the unexpected.

“Lil?”

What if his skin turned red and he grew horns, like the demons in theology books? No, he was part water demon. He could be a two-legged sea monster. I swallowed, my mouth going dry.

“Please don’t stop talking,” he begged.

The vulnerable tone got to me. “We decided it was best for me watch him from the sideline,” I said, my voice uneven. “Grampa was magnificent. Of course, uh, at the time I didn’t know his performances were real. I just assumed they were, uh, illusions.”

Bran shrugged off his shirt and let it drop on the ground. He stood before me naked from the waist up. I stared, awed. He was glorious, breathtaking. Face of an angel, body of a runner with well-defined and lean muscles, ridged stomach. The scar on his chest was the only mar on the smooth and golden perfection.

Goose bumps spread on the surface of my skin, yet frenzied heat coiled throughout my body. His chest rose and fell, drawing my eyes to his. Stormy green stared back at me. I tensed, not sure what to expect.

“How did you get the scar on your chest?” I asked to distract myself.

His lips twisted in a sad smile. “The night we tried to escape, Valafar’s guards killed my father and took us back. I wore my grandfather’s amulet, given to me by my father. The guards were enraged when they saw it.” His voice slowed to a shaky whisper. “One in particular considered it a personal insult. She burned it.”

I gasped. “While you wore it? Who would do such a terrible thing?”

He was silent for a long time, his face stony.

A foreboding feeling washed over me. “Bran?”

A sigh escaped him. “My mother,” he whispered.

Shock slammed through me. My mouth opened, but no sound came out. Bile rose to my throat. What an awful mother. How could she do that to him?

Without breaking eye contact with me, Bran started talking, at first choosing his words, then faster as though a dam had broken in his inner core. “She was never happy with the choice Coronis forced on her. You know, marrying my father, the son of a Cardinal Guardian. Since she couldn’t punish him, she took it out on us. Gavyn and I were the first to get to the training field and the last to leave. We were punished the harshest if we made a mistake. We had to prove ourselves, not just to her but to our training mates. And our
inferior
Guardian genes were often blamed for our mistakes.” He took a deep breath and exhaled. “The night of our escape, when the guards took us to her, I’d never seen her so pissed. She took me to a shack in the forest and held me down while she scorched the amulet.”

His face scrunched up as though he was reliving the moment, but his eyes didn’t waver from mine. I wanted to ease his pain, but I didn’t know how. So I cried for him. Silent tear drops raced down my face.

“She poured saltwater on the wound, so it would heal and stay creased. A reminder of my shame, she told me. For days, I stayed in that cabin. I don’t know what she did, but I lost sense of time. Celeste must have found out because she sneaked me some food and water. She was only thirteen, but very brave. No one goes against
Lazari
guards. I begged her to stop, but she wouldn’t listen. Without her, this,” he touched the scar on his chest, “would have been worse.”

“Where was Gavyn?” I whispered in a shaking voice. “Why couldn’t he help you?”

Bran shook his head. “He couldn’t. Our mother had put him in isolation at their headquarters. Of course, I didn’t know about this at the time, but the others heard his screams. I don’t know what they did to him. When he returned home, his black hair had turned white. And he acted different. Gavyn was the family jokester. He’d make us laugh with his impersonation of our instructors, guards. He became like our mother, mean and driven.”

This explained why Bran saw the goodness in Gavyn no matter how bad or evil his brother acted. This time, I got to my feet, reached out to touch him, share his pain. He dropped his head, closed his eyes tight and appeared to be straining. Was his crying?

“Bran,” I whispered and reached for his hand. Then I gasped as the wings rose from behind him, stretching, shooting above his shoulders. The span was over twice his size. Beams from the crescent moon danced off the silvery feathers on the inside and the edges, giving him an ethereal glow. The outside ones were black like his hair.

He widened his stance for balance and folded his arms across his naked chest. His head lifted. “This is what I meant to show you.”

My mouth opened and closed. Eyes darted from one wing to the other, the urge to reach out and touch stealing through me. “An angel,” I whispered.

He gave me his special punch-in-the-gut smile as if he hadn’t already stolen my breath. “No. I’m a
Werenephil
with retractable wings, just like my father. When the Cardinals and the CT saw them, they knew I was Tariel’s grandson. The outside black feathers, but inside white is like a birthmark in my family.”

I wanted to touch them, feel their texture. “Does Gavyn have them?”

“No. Just me.”

“Do you fly?”

Bran grinned, moon beams bouncing off his sparkling teeth. “Always. Would you like to go for a ride?” He offered me his hand, pulled me up and into his arms.

My hand splayed on his naked chest. A shiver raced through me even though reacting to his nearness and nakedness was the last thing on my mind. My gaze stayed locked on his feathers. I wanted to confirm they were real. Fine plumes sprinkled the back of his neck. I ran my fingers over them. So soft. His wings fluttered at my touch, opening and closing with each stroke of my hand.

“You can’t fly carrying me. I weigh a ton,” I said.

“Of course I can carry you,” Bran said in a smug tone.

I leaned back and caught the flash of heat in his eyes. His heart drummed like tom-tom under my left hand. I dropped my hands to my side and stepped back. His hands left my waist.

“Can you really? You know, carry me?” I asked.

“Piece of cake. But keep doubting me and I’ll feel like a total loser.” He slid his hands in the front pockets of his pants and rocked on his heels. The wings folded closer and tighter to hug his back like a cloak. “So what do you say?”

“Is it safe?”

“Chicken.”

“Not,” I retorted. I walked around him and studied his back. His wings were huge, the feathers thick and abundant. Some short, others long. They appeared to form a V-shape from his shoulder to his mid-back region though soft downy covered the bases, dotting most of his back from nape to waist. How would he carry me?

He turned and faced me, opened his arms. “Come on, Sunshine. We’ve got about thirty minutes before I have to take you home. I want to make the most of tonight.”

So did I, but I’d be beyond humiliated if I turned out to be too heavy for him. I mean, I was almost as tall as he, and I wasn’t rail-thin. “If you’re sure.”

He reached inside his pocket and pulled out the band he took from my hair during our drive over. Then he proceeded to bundle my long mane into a ponytail. Once done, he ran his knuckles down the side of my face. “I can handle it, worrywart.”

I heard the laughter in his voice. “You’d better, or I’ll come back and haunt you.”

“I thought
I
was the ghost,” he teased, reminding me of the first time we met. His hands went back to my waist, pulled me closer until our chests brushed. His scent, his warmth engulfed me. I wanted him to kiss me right at that moment.

“Put your arms around my neck,” he instructed.

As soon as I wound my arms around his neck, he scooped me up, one arm around my middle, the other under my thighs. He cradled me close, like I was precious. Heart beating so loud I was sure he could hear it, I lay my head against the side of his neck. His skin was searing. All I had to do was turn my head and our lips would meet. Sheesh, I was becoming obsessed with kissing him.

Bran adjusted his stance, bent his knees and spread out his wings. “Ready?” he asked.

I nodded.

His wings whipped up and down, sending dead grass, pizza boxes and pop cans flying around our picnic area. We rose up above the mountain range, my stomach dipping as he shot toward the moonlit sky. Currents of cool air whipped my hair back, caressed the surface of my skin, but Bran’s warm body insulated me from the bite. I glanced below and my heart jumped to my throat. We were so high, the trust in Bran the only thing between me and the ground. I tightened my arms around his neck.

Night lights gleamed like diamond studs on the valley floor. I located my school, the RV Park, caught the reflecting surface of Logan River meandering through the valley floor. It was breathtaking.

“Well?” Bran asked. His breath was hot against my forehead, causing me to shiver.

“Love it. Go faster.”

His wings pushed the air, whipping his coat I’d borrowed around my legs. My laughter mingled with his, my insides rolling one way then the other as he shot up then glided. He zipped across the valley sky. Gravity pulled my body down. My stomach lurched, my eyes watered, but being held so close to Bran’s body felt wonderful.

When he did loops and spirals, I screamed, scared and exhilarated at the same time. But I had nothing to worry about. His hold on me stayed firm and steady. I loved it best when he flew upside down, his face bathed by the moonlight, his perfect lips curved in a contented smile.

We flew clear of Wellsville Mountain then swooped to the other side. Brigham City’s lights welcomed us, Ogden twinkled in the distance. Bran slowed down and went on cruise mode, whooshing and gliding. Gentle breeze floated past us and not a single cloud blanketed the star studded sky. I sighed with bliss.

He dropped his head to speak, his lips almost touching mine. “I told you carrying you would be a piece of cake.”

I heard his words, but I was busy telling myself to breathe and stop fantasizing about kissing him to respond. We were hundreds of feet in the air, for pity sakes. But he was right about carrying me. He didn’t even sound winded as we dipped and glided. “When did you get your powers?” I asked him

“At sixteen, just like you. First were my water abilities. Six months later, my wings appeared. Scared the heck out of me.”

“Why? Aren’t there any winged Hermonites on Coronis Isle?”

“Oh yes, the ravens.”

I frowned. “Who?”

“Pure
Werenephils
with the ability to shape shift into ravens. They make up Coronis’ security team. She doesn’t trust anyone but her own. The rest of the Hermonites are cross-breeds of all the Nephilim groups. The most powerful of them are the nature-benders.”

I shivered, remembering what the trainees had told me about the nature-benders. “Are there winged Guardians?” I asked.