Betrayed (40 page)

She smiled. “Can I come in?”

“Maybe later? I just can’t talk about Aunt…

Cardinal Janel e now.”

She frowned. “Oh.”

“I know I should be angry and disappointed,” I glanced behind her again and searched for Bran,

“and yes, I am disappointed, but I can’t stay angry with her forever. She’s family. Wel , not exactly family, but I hope she and Gramps wil hook up or something. Do you understand what I’m saying?” I laughed uneasily, starting to worry about Bran. “I don’t think I’m making sense right now?”

“You are.” She smiled and there was something different about it, yet I couldn’t put my finger on it. “I’l stop by later.”

Bran appeared on the short sidewalk between our driveway and door. Not taking my gaze off Bran, I said, “Bye, Izzy.”

She turned and saw Bran. “Hey, Llyr.”

“Izzy,” he said.

“I’l leave you two, uh, lovebirds alone. Are you going anywhere special tonight?” she asked.

“Maybe,” Bran said, but his smile was forced.

She waved, and I saw her bracelet. It looked familiar, but I didn’t have time to place it because Bran stood in front of me. He had changed his white tee for a green one that made his eyes incandescent. The thin material hugged his masculine chest and arms. His coat was stil missing. He never went anywhere without a trench coat. I stepped back inside the house and left the door open for him.

“Do you want to talk or eat first?” he asked, fol owing me inside and closing the door.

“Talk.” Food was the last thing on my mind.

“You sure you’re not hungry? I’m starving.” He gave me a lost puppy look.

He was procrastinating. I shook my head.

“We talk first.”

He sighed.

“Okay.” He offered me his hand.

“Where are we going?”

“My room.” He leaned back and squinted at me. “I’m sorry I was a total jerk the last time you were there. I don’t want it to be an issue between us anymore or for you to feel you can’t visit whenever you want.”

“Does that mean—?”

“You have an open invitation to come and bug me whenever you feel like it.” He shoved his hand in his pocket since I hadn’t taken it. “It’s also the most private place I can think of right now for us to talk undisturbed. That’s not to say your room isn’t,” he added hastily, giving me an apologetic look. “People tend to stop by to visit, like Izzy just now, and your grandfather is around while I don’t have that, uh, problem. So what do you say?”

He was nervous. It was hard to tel whether the cause was having me in his room or the looming talks. I slipped my arm in the crock of his and gave him a reassuring hug. “Your room is fine.” He smiled in approval.

Together, we teleported to his place.

His bed was nicely made with the striped yel ow and green duvet, his shoes paired up by the closet. Seemed like he’d picked up a bit, which was sweet, but the room stil looked sterile, like a hotel room.

He waved toward the bed. “Sit. Put your feet up.” He plumped and piled pil ows against the headboard and stepped back.

I tucked my legs under me and supported my back with the pil ows. Instead of sitting, he stayed standing. His eyes not meeting mine, he wiped his hands on his pants, shoved them in his pockets, and rocked on his heels. The non-stop fidgeting made me nervous.

“Aren’t you going to sit down?” I asked, waving at the bed.

He shook his head, removed his hands from his pockets, and rubbed his nape.

“You can tel me anything,” I said softly, watching him with concern. “It won’t change the way I feel about you.”

He forked his fingers through his hair. “You don’t know that.”

Annoyance sliced through me, and I scrunched my face. “Don’t tel me how to feel about you, Bran Llyr.”

you, Bran Llyr.”

He grinned. “You’re real y something else when angry, you know that.”

“And when you procrastinate and squirm, you scare me. Just tel me what’s going on.” His emerald eyes grew stormy, but this time his gaze didn’t leave mine. “I’m losing my wings.” I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“My feathers are fal ing.”

I’d noticed a feather or two on the ground whenever he took me flying, but I thought that was normal. “Is that bad?”

He nodded. “Very. Do you remember Dante’s wings?”

How could I forget the humongous, bat-like wings with weird ridges? I shuddered. “Yeah.” He shoved his hands in his front pockets and started talking, slowly at first, then faster and faster.

“They didn’t have a single feather on them. That’s what happens to demonic Nephilim. From Lucifer to the present fal en angels, when they fal from grace, they lose their feathers. The unlucky ones to cross paths with Guardians or avenging angels get their wings chopped off. But the first step in the process is the loss of feathers.” He swal owed visibly. “I’m losing mine and turning demonic. It’s supposed to be a gradual process, but with me, it’s happening fast.

I’m slowly losing control of my abilities. That’s why I can’t link with you anymore. If I do, I can contaminate your psi energy.”

No, this couldn’t be happening. I shook my head, tried to free myself from the terror coiling in my chest, but a creepy tendril wound tighter. Bran’s face appeared hazy as my tears crested. “You can’t be turning.”

“Shh.” He cupped the back of my head and pressed his forehead against mine. “I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he whispered.

I leaned back and swiped at the tears, annoyed I was crying now instead of being strong and coming up with solutions. It just wasn’t fair. “But you work with the Cardinals. That must count for something.”

He shook his head. “It’s not enough. Do you remember when we were in Vegas? When the water in the building threatened to burst through the pipes?”

I nodded, recal ing the creaks from the wal s and water gushing in the bathroom.

“Things like that have been happening around me. I’m losing control of my powers, causing mayhem without even trying. I tried to control it in Vegas but couldn’t.” He paused, sat on the edge of the bed, and looked into my eyes. “You calmed me, Lil. Having you there that night, feeling your energy, helped me control it.”

“That’s good, but there must be something we can do to permanently reverse it.” I slid off the bed and started to pace. His room was spacious with only the bed and the nightstands, leaving plenty of floor space for me to move. “Talk to Grampa and the Cardinals, petition the Circle of Twelve.”

“Lil.” He grabbed my arm and interrupted me mid-stride. “The Cardinals and the CT already know.”

“What did they say? What are they doing about it?” I cried.

“There’s not much they can do.” His eyes became sad. “If I stay here, I’l only continue to contaminate your energy.”

“Continue? What do you mean?”

“We were in Vegas on Monday. On Tuesday, you hurt Master Haziel with the Kris Dagger. The Cardinals told me. It wasn’t a coincidence. The dagger is not supposed to hurt Guardians. That’s proof that I’m already messing with your energy. On Friday, they told me to stop linking with you. I asked your grandfather to al ow me to explain to you what was going on, but he said not yet, not when there was a chance of reversing the process.”

“There is?”

“I’l explain, but first, I want you to sit down.” He indicated the bed.

Hope washed over me. I sat, but fear and frustration col ided inside of me. The Cardinals had better fix this. Bran couldn’t turn demonic. He mustn’t. Something about the way he stood before me with a calm expression penetrated my psyche.

“Why aren’t you angry? How can you stand there and be so calm?”

His hand moved to his chest. “I’ve known about this for months, Lil. Gavyn and I fought a lot over what to do. He wanted me to cut ties with the Guardians and join our mother’s people. I thought differently.”

His brother was a moron. To think I offered to His brother was a moron. To think I offered to heal him. I frowned. Bran wasn’t touching the amulet.

His was part of a belt buckle. He was rubbing his scar, the little present his mother left him after he and his father tried to escape the demonic enclave on Coronis Isle, a reminder of the darkest period in his life.

A shudder raked my body. “Does this…

what’s happening to you have anything to do with her…your mother?”

His lips lifted at the corners, though his emerald eyes remained sad. I hated that smile. It usual y preceded something bad. I braced myself.

“Yes and no. Do you remember what I told you about her?”

Every ugly detail. “She was one of Coronis’

confidants. Mean, cold, and ruthless, like Valafar.” Bran shook his head and sat on the edge of the bed by my bent knees. “No, not like Valafar. He, at least, loved your mother enough to keep her things even after she died. My mother was incapable of loving anyone. Not my father nor us. Coronis’

breeding program produced future warriors, not parents.”

“I know.” A surge of his pain flowed through me. I wanted to wrap my arms around his waist and make the pain go away, but I needed answers.

Hugging a pil ow instead, my throat closed as I fought tears. Every time he talked about his mother, it hurt. Him and me.

“With Mom’s Lazarus background and energy powers, and Dad’s ability to control water and see the future, Coronis hoped for a more powerful offspring, someone like you. Instead she got us.

Gavyn’s energy powers were no stronger than Mother’s. Celeste’s clairvoyance is weak, her visions sporadic and unclear.”

“Celeste barely turned sixteen, Bran. She’l get stronger.”

He shook his head, rested his elbows on his knees and studied his hands. “I doubt it. And I—”

“You’re a powerful Water Guardian,” I interjected, going on defense.

He glanced at me and scowled. When he spoke, his voice was flat. “I’m not a Guardian, Lil.

Just because I’ve been accepted by you guys doesn’t make me one.”

He wasn’t making sense. I threw the pil ow aside, scooted closer to him and searched his face as though it would give me a clue. His eyes were so sad my heart squeezed.

“You are not just a Guardian, Bran. You’re a Cardinal, the youngest in our history. You pul double duty working with Grampa and the others and joining us whenever we need you. It’s not fair. I’ve told Grampa to stop pushing you so hard.”

He sat him, frowning. “You shouldn’t have done that. I had to prove myself, show them I changed.”

“From what?” I hated that he spoke in past tense as though he already gave up. “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. You are here. Defying everything everyone believed.”

He smiled and briefly caressed my cheek.

“And what is that? My feathers are stil fal ing.”

“Just because you were born on Coronis Isle doesn’t mean you’l end up a demon.” He sat beside me and took my hand. When he didn’t speak, I squeezed his fingers. “Please, tel me how to fix this.

When you stop talking, you scare me.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you. Al I ever want to do is protect you.”

“I know,” I said quickly, impatient for him to go on. Now was my turn to protect him.

“Do you recal what I told you the day you met my brother?” His gaze was expectant, but it was months ago.

I sighed. “We talked about many things that night, Bran.”

“I told you after Dad died, I was angry. I did terrible things. I think I went a little crazy. I blamed my mother for his death and hated her for it, but at the same time, I loved her.” He scowled as though he didn’t understand the paradox.

But I did. My relationship with Valafar was twisted. Part of me wanted to know him better, but another part didn’t trust his motives.

“I wanted to show her I didn’t need special skil s to be cold and ruthless, that I could beat her at her own game.” His voice lowered as he continued, his pain ebbing and surging. “The other part wanted her to be proud of me.”

My throat closed. I pul ed my hand from his, scooted closer, and wrapped my arms around him.

He gripped my arms and closed his eyes. Silence fol owed as my love for him soothed the turbulence in fol owed as my love for him soothed the turbulence in his heart and he grew calmer.

“When she sent me to join Gavyn’s den in L.A., I became a col ector.”

My stomach sank.

“I visited hospitals, bars, and cesspools in the underbel y of L.A. and bought souls.” I wanted to tel him to stop. His past didn’t matter. Not to me. But it did in the grand scheme of things, or he wouldn’t be losing his wings.

I held him tighter and mumbled, “You should have told me this earlier.”

“I didn’t want to bother you with my problem.” He turned his head so he could look into my eyes. “I thought I could handle it.” His expression begged me to understand. “I real y did.”

I nodded.

“The Cardinals told me the only way to stop my wings from fal ing was to find the contracts of the people who sold their souls to me and cancel them. I started searching, found a few here and there, but the bulk of them were kept by Coronis. Then we heard about the List.”

Everything Valafar said made sense now.

“How many are there?” My voice was barely above a whisper. I was stil trying to wrap my mind around Bran as a col ector.

“Now? Five hundred.”

“Five…holy crap!” I gasped, leaned back to look into his eyes.

A pained look crossed his features. “I know it’s no excuse, but most of them were scumbags and crooks, and in the last two years, they’ve dropped even lower into the cesspool.”

“It’s going to take forever to cancel that many contracts.” My voice sounded calmer and stronger.

As long as I focused on finding a solution for Bran’s problem instead of on the possibility that he might become ful y demonic, I wouldn’t lose it. “What are we going to do?”

“Find the List,” he said.

Or get help wherever we could, I added silently. I bit my lower lip, debating whether to tel him about Valafar’s offer. I searched Bran’s face. He looked sad, like he’d given up already.

“Valafar cal ed me on Saturday,” I said.

Bran stiffened. “What did he want?”

How much to tel him? Better wade in slowly.

“He offered to heal Gavyn.”

“No,” Bran answered without hesitation. “Do you remember that first cal last week?”