Entranced (5 page)
Authors: Jessica Sorensen
A couple of hours after falling asleep, I’m awakened by a godawful buzzing noise.
“Time to get up, Alana.” The woman’s voice that crackles through the intercom sounds like Vivianne. “You have an orientation tour with a guide in thirty minutes. If you’re late, I won’t hesitate to put you in detention.”
Grumbling, I throw the blankets off me and force my ass out of bed. Faint memories of my grandpa Lucas begging me to keep something he gave me safe echo in my thoughts. The only thing I have with me from him is the dagger. While I still don’t know if the dream was real, I’m paranoid enough that I take the dagger out of my suitcases and hide it above a ceiling tile.
After I put the tile back into place, I pull on a pair of shorts, a black tank top, and tie a plaid shirt around my waist. Then I side braid my hair, slip on my boots, and head out to see the place that will be my new home for the next year.
Halfway through the tour, I actually find myself missing Jax, mostly because my tour guide is a cranky old woman who reeks of whiskey. Worse still, every time I ask a question or crack a joke, she looks like she wants to beat me with her cane.
“I don’t get why you’re asking so many questions,” she says when we reach the door to the backyard of the school. “Normally, kids just stand there and listen or text on their phones.”
We’ve walked in so many directions, seen so many classrooms, offices, and libraries that I can’t remember which way is left or right or even up and down. I’m all sorts of turned around to the point where I feel like my head is on backward.
“I just want to learn about stuff.” I slip on my sunglasses as we step outside and into the sunlight.
Since it’s the beginning of August, the temperature is well into the nineties and humid, making it perfect shorts and tank top weather.
As the guide begins a droning story about a stone bench near the fence line, I decide to take her advice and check my text messages. I still haven’t heard from my grandpa Lucas or Jayse, even though I messaged them both last night. I have a message from my mom, though.
Mom: Hey, sweetie, just wondering how your first day is going.
Me: I’m just getting a tour. Classes haven’t even started yet. In fact, I’m pretty much the only one here right now. Most of the people won’t be here until Monday when school officially starts.
Mom: It might be a good thing you’re a little bit early. You’ll get to learn where everything is before everyone gets there.
Me: I guess so. I just don’t get why I couldn’t have spent an extra couple of days there with you guys.
Mom: Grandpa thought it’d be best if you got there a little bit early.
Me: Yeah, he’s been acting really weird the last couple of days, though. He’s not by chance there with you right now, is he? I texted him last night, but he didn’t answer.
Mom: He’s actually in the City of Crystal for a couple of days, so he might not respond for a bit.
Mom: The Foreseers had an emergency meeting about something.
Me: They’ve been having a lot of meetings lately.
Mom: Sometimes that happens, but I’ll make sure to tell him to message you as soon as he gets back.
Me: Thanks. And tell Jayse the same thing. I haven’t heard from him, either.
When she doesn’t reply right away, I start to get a little worried something’s wrong. What if something happened to Jayse? It makes me hate being so far away and out of the loop.
Mom: Yeah, sorry, your father needed help with the grill, and by help, I mean help putting out the fire.
I giggle as I reply.
Me: Dad and his awesome cooking skills. I’m going to miss that.
Mom: You say that now, but when you haven’t eaten one of his infamous charred burgers in a few months, you’ll be singing another tune.
Me: No way. I’ll miss everything, including the burned burgers.
Again, she doesn’t text back right away, and I start to feel all those miles between us.
Mom: Hey, honey, I really need to go help your dad before he burns the house down. Call you tonight?
Me: Yes, please. Can I ask you just one more thing, though? It’s kind of important.
Me: Has grandpa ever dream walked?
It takes her a moment to respond.
Me: I thought I dreamed about him last night, but it felt real.
Mom: I doubt it was him since Foreseers banned dream walking a long time ago, but I can ask him when he gets in. What exactly happened?
Me: He warned me of danger coming. It was actually very ominous. It’s why I asked. I just want to make sure everything’s okay with him.
Mom: I’m sure it was probably just a dream, but I’ll try to get ahold of him and call u tonight, but u know how hard it is when he’s in the city.
Me: Thanks. Oh, and Mom, have you ever heard of the term electi.
Mom: Maybe, but I can’t think of what it is off the top of my head. I can look into, though. Was that part of your dream, too?
Me: Yeah, Grandpa said it to me. I don’t know what it means, though.
Mom: Look at you, already trying to solve a mystery.
Me: Ha ha, not a murder mystery, though. Just crazy, old grandpa stuff.
Mom: I’ll look into everything and call u tonight, okay?
Mom: You’re welcome, sweetie. And luv u.
I put the phone into the pocket of my shorts and lollygag behind the tour guide as she leads me toward a cemetery. So, Jax wasn’t lying about that. It makes me wonder if he was joking about a building being back here that holds dead bodies.
“This is where we bury most of the Guardians.” The guide retrieves a silver flask from her shirt pocket, twists the lid off, and then shakes the crap out of it. “I need a refill. Try to get lost while I’m gone so I can end this tour and go home.” She rushes back toward the school before I can get a word out.
I press the tips of my fingers to the brim of my nose, feeling a headache coming on. “Is everyone around here an asshole?”
“Don’t take it personally. Guardians are a little on the temperamental side. Call it a curse of the job.”
The unexpected sound of Jax’s voice causes me to jump.
He’s standing near the entrance to the cemetery, leaning against the iron gate, dressed in black jeans with his hoodie pulled over his head.
“Is that why you’re so pissy all the time?” I ask, hiking through the grass toward him.
He presses his hand to his chest, pretending to be offended. “I’m never pissy. In fact, I’m quite the opposite.”
“Ha, yeah right.” I stop just short of him. “Cranky’s your middle name.”
His lips tip into a playful smile. “No way. My middle name is definitely charmingly adorable.”
“More like charmingly pissy.”
He chuckles, straightening his stance. “While I’m completely enjoying this flirtatious argument—with a very beautiful girl, I might add—I’m curious why you think I’m an asshole.”
“Um, where should I start?” I thrum my finger against my lips. “You’ve been cranky pretty much since we first met. Well, except for when you gave me the Otium. That was actually a very nice thing to do.”
He muses over something as his gaze sweeps up and down my body. I hate to admit it, but my heart rate increases from the attention, my pulse throbbing in the strangest of places and weirdest of ways.
“Tell me”—he steps toward me, closing the distance between us—“besides insulting you, have I done anything else?” He smells differently than he normally does, less like a wolf and more like cologne with a dash of something sugary. He reaches out and ravels a strand of my hair around his finger while staring at my lips. “Like say, have we kissed? I doubt it since I’m so uptight, but you just might be too beautiful for me to resist wanting a taste.”
My shock promptly shifts to confusion. “Huh?”
“Leave her alone, Dash.” A familiar voice sails over my shoulder.
I whirl around to find Jax striding across the grass toward us with his hands shoved in the pocket of his jeans, his silver eyes gleaming with anger.
“What the hell?” I reel back around to the guy Jax called Dash and narrow my eyes at him.
He looks guilty. “Sorry. I was just curious.”
“About what?” I fold my arms and raise my brows, waiting for him to reply.
He opens his mouth to say something, but Jax cuts him off.
“You’re not supposed to bother any of the new students,” he growls at Dash.
“I wasn’t bothering her,” Dash replies innocently. “We were just having a nice, little conversation about you and why she thinks you’re such a douchebag.”
I glance back and forth between the two guys. They’re equal height and have the same lean body type, and their facial features are strikingly similar.
“Are you …?” My gaze flicks between them. “Are one of you a doppelganger?”
Jax grinds his teeth. “No, although it might be easier if he was. Then I’d have an excuse every time he fucked up and acted like an ass.” Jax glares at Dash then reaches around me and tugs the hoodie off his head. “Alana, meet Dash, my very annoying twin brother.”
With the hoodie off, I can see the difference in the two of them. While Jax’s hair is light brown and styled in a fauxhawk, Dash’s is much darker and cut way shorter. And, unlike Jax’s silver eyes, only one of Dash’s is silver, while the other is a vibrant shade of teal.
“Twin brother, huh?” I say to Jax. “You couldn’t have mentioned that earlier?”
“I was hoping he’d decide not to come here this year.” He glares at his brother. “But apparently, he decided to go against our father’s wishes.”
“Dad has no say in what I do,” Dash quips lightly. “Besides, someone has to watch out for you and make sure you don’t work yourself to death.”
Jax argues, “I don’t work myself to death. It’s called being responsible.”
“It’s called being whipped by our father.” Dash tries to make a cracking whip sound that ends up sounding more like an angry cat.
I bite down on my lip, choking on a laugh.
Jax’s intense gaze lands on me. “Don’t laugh at him. It’ll only encourage him. ”
I shrug. “Sorry, but the crazy-cat whip sound was kinda, sorta funny.”
Dash drapes an arm around my shoulder, and I’m engulfed by the scent of sugar cookies. “See? She thinks I’m funny. You would, too, if Dad didn’t have you so brainwashed.”
Jax continues to stare at me, seeming almost disappointed. “I’m supposed to take you out with me today, so grab your stuff and meet me out front in twenty.”
I want to ask him where we’re going, what we’re doing, and why he seems so annoyed with his brother, but I don’t want to escalate his irritation, especially if I have to spend the entire day with him.
“What about the rest of my tour?” I ask.
“You can finish it later,” he says.
I step out from Dash’s arm. “It was nice meeting you, Dash.” I wave at him as I walk back toward the school. “I’m sure I’ll see you later.” When Jax’s cold eyes land on me, I add, “Maybe.”
“Oh, we’ll meet again, lovely girl,” Dash calls out with a promising grin. “You’re far too pretty for me to leave alone.”
I snort a laugh, spinning on my heels. As I hurry across the grass, I hear Jax chewing Dash out. I can’t hear everything, but I do manage to catch him say, “What are you doing? You know better than to talk to her.”
It makes me wonder if he’s trying to keep Dash away from me or the other way around.
“Where are we going?” I ask Jax after we climb into his car, a blue and black striped 1967 Pontiac GTO.
“To the morgue,” he says as he steers the car down the dirt drive and toward the main road.
“Seriously?” I cringe when he nods. “So, there’s not a building out back of the school that you guys put dead bodies in?”
“No, there is.” He flips the visor down as we pull farther away from the trees and school, and sunlight pours into the cab. “But most of the bodies kept there are for class lessons.” He casts a sideways glance at me. “Would you chill out? It might seem gross, but you’ll get used to it eventually.”
I shake my head. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s ever going to happen.”
“Never Giving Up” by Of Mice & Men plays from the stereo, filling the silence between us.
“I don’t get you,” he finally says. “You come from a family of Keepers, so I’m sure you’ve seen dead bodies before. You were also at the Black Dungeon to kill Anastasiya, which would’ve required you to see her dead if you’d gone through with it. I know you saw her right after she fell off the roof, too, at least that’s what the report said.”
“Anastasiya would’ve been my first kill,” I admit shamefully, shrugging when he gapes at me. “I’ve gone on missions a couple of times, but for the most part, my parents don’t like me getting involved. They were always too worried that, without being marked, I’d end up getting myself killed. They didn’t give me credit, though. I mean, I know I’m not super strong like them or anything, but I can hold my own in a fight. That was kind of the point of killing Anastasiya. I wanted to show them how kickass I was—am.” I sigh. “I wasn’t going to do it. My friend had already talked me out of it before you decided to threaten me.”
“I did that for your own good and to be absolutely certain you didn’t go through with it.” He slows down the car as we near a sign that reads: Welcome to Maple Spring Valley. “Anastasiya would’ve snapped your neck like a twig the moment you stepped foot on that roof.”
“Yeah, I’m not buying it. I think there’s more to it than that.”
He cracks his knuckles against the wheel. “Think what you want. I know the truth, and that’s all that matters.”
I check my phone messages for about the tenth time today, disappointed when I see no new messages. “Why does the Academy even care about someone like Anastasiya? She killed at least a hundred people while she was alive.”
Jax heaves a heavy sigh. “Just because she killed people, it doesn’t mean we don’t need to look into her murder. Every murder case, even when a Keeper kills someone, needs to be investigated so we can keep an eye on things, make sure things don’t get out of hand.”
“What exactly do you mean by get out of hand?”
“Say whoever killed Anastasiya was part of a bigger plan to take out all the vampires, including ones who haven’t killed a single person in their lifetime. If we found out who the person was, we could end up saving innocent lives.”
“You consider vampires innocent?”
“Ones who’ve never killed anyone are innocent, no matter what you’ve been raised to believe,” he says coldly. “Sometimes, innocent people have shitty things happen to them that they wish never happened, but they can’t change it.” He parks the car in front of a quaint souvenir store located on the corner of a small shopping center. “But they do their best to make good out of a crappy situation.”
I swallow hard, feeling like the biggest jerk ever. While I’m not one hundred percent sure that Jax wasn’t involved in Anastasiya death, I don’t want him to think I believe he’s a monster.
“I didn’t mean that all vampires are evil. I’ve just never heard anyone refer to them as innocent.”
“That’s because you’ve lived in a world where you assassinate first and investigate later.” He removes the keys from the ignition and shoves open the door. “Now, can we please drop this subject? Anastasiya’s murder is still an open case, and I’ve spent so much time reading over her files that I’ve started to have nightmares about it.” He doesn’t wait for me to answer before getting out of the car.
I hop out and meet him at the front of the car, staring at the souvenir store. “I thought we were going to a morgue.”
“We are.” Yawning, he stretches his arms. “The morgue is hidden in back of the store.”
I get a brief glimpse of the muscles hidden under his T-shirt, and I can’t help gawking. Okay, maybe I was lying when I said he wasn’t my type. Personality-wise, not at all, but physically … Well, all I want to do is reach over and trace my fingers along his lean muscles.
When he catches me ogling him, I expect him to throw it in my face, but surprisingly, he leans back against the hood and cocks a questioning brow at me.
I turn my head and roll my eyes at myself. “Why do you bother hiding the morgue? It’s not like people are going to steal the bodies.”
“It actually happens a lot.” He steps away from the car and onto the curb, heading for the store. “We’ve had to move the location several times to keep thieves from sneaking in.”
I follow him to the entrance door. “Why would anyone want to steal a dead body?"
“For a lot of reasons.” A bell dings as he pulls open a door. He holds it open for me, letting me step in first. “Think about the powerful things that come through here,” he says as the door swings shut behind us. “Warlocks, Pixies, Faeries. We even had a Nymph once, and you know how wanted their blood is. There’s an entire black market centering on just that.”
“Okay, I guess I see your point, but it’s still gross.” I glance around at the shelves on the wall carrying knickknacks, T-shirts, maps, and every other kind of souvenir a tourist could ever dream of. “So, where’s this hidden morgue?”
Jax grins at me as he rounds the back of the front counter, gesturing for me to follow him as he ducks through a beaded curtain. I step through the curtain and into a backroom full of rows and rows of bookshelves angled in every direction.
“God, it’s like a maze in here …” I trail off. “Jax?” I inch forward toward the shelves. “Jax, I didn’t see where you—”
A solid chest presses against my back as warm hand covers my mouth. Seconds later, I’m pulled backward. I expect us to hit the wall, but somehow, we disappear
into
the wall. I freak the fuck out for two point five seconds, preparing to attack, until I get a whiff of Jax’s wolf scent. Even though I’m not going to let him off the hook for the move, I simmer my attack down, not wanting to hurt him.
At least not too badly, anyway.
Grabbing his wrist, I lightly twist and pull while bringing my foot up and nudging him back. Startled, he quickly pulls away.
“Dude, what’s up with the surprise attack?” I ask, putting my hands on my hips.
“I was trying to get you inside without having to show you how to get in … I’m technically not allowed to show you just yet.” He rubs his wrists, chuckling softly. “Fuck, you’re a lot stronger than you look.”
“Remember that the next time you try to grab me from behind,” I say with a smirk.
He smashes his lips together, trying hard to muffle a laugh.
I bite back a smile. “Quit being a perv.”
“You’re the one who said it.” He lowers his hand to his side, and we stand there like idiots, grinning goofily at each other.
A couple of days ago, I thought I’d never have fun again. And while this isn’t the spending-an-entire-day-hunting-a-vampire kind of fun, I’m not gouging my eyes out from boredom like I thought I would.
Maybe this whole Guardian thing might not be so bad after all.
Right as the thought crosses my mind, I become hyperaware of the cold air seeping into my skin. I skim the metal walls around me, realizing we’re by the mortuary cold chambers.
I scrunch up my nose. “So, this is where the magic happens?”
“Not really.” Jax’s rolls up the sleeves of his hooded shirt, grabs a hand of one of the middle section chambers, and pulls it open, sliding out a bulky body bag. “If you end up being an investigator, you probably won’t spend a lot of time in here. You’ll mostly go to the scenes”—he reaches for the zipper of the body bag while I fight back a gag—“to interview witnesses and go through a lot of fucking paperwork. Sometimes, you’ll have to come here to check on some of the facts, though.”
I cover my mouth with my hand as he unzips the bag. The stench hits me before he even gets it all the way open, like rotting eggs and vomit. “What the hell’s in there?”
“A Zombie,” he says, looking completely unbothered by the stench.
“Like rotting death?” He glances at me with amusement dancing in his eyes. “You’ll get used to it.”
“You keep saying that.”
“That’s because it’s true.” He leans over the Zombie, inspecting the rotting flesh peeling away from the once human face. “A lot of Guardians are like you when they first start.” His forehead creases as he studies the left cheek of the zombie’s face. “Being around death is in your blood even if you think it isn’t; otherwise, you wouldn’t have gotten the mark.”
I absentmindedly touch the mark on the back of my neck. “How many people in your family are Guardians?”
“My parents both are and so is my sister,” he says, brushing his hair out of his eyes as he leans in closer to the zombie. “Dash… He’s one, too, but he’s …” He trails off, clearing his throat. “Well, he’s a little less invested in the job than my family is.”
I want to ask him if Dash is something other than just a Guardian. I don’t know why I think he might be other than the odd sugary scent coming off him. I don’t know of any creatures who smell like sugar other than Sprites, but that’s because they have sweet tooths. Dash can’t be a Sprite, though, since they don’t take on human form.
Before I can ask Jax about it, he motions me to come over to him.
I inch back. “No thanks. I’m good right here.”
He gives me a tolerant look. “Alana, I just want to show you something. I promise you don’t have to touch it.”
I begrudgingly inch over beside him, rubbing my nose as the stench burns at my nostrils.
“See this right here?” He points at a faint sequence of symbols carved on the Zombie’s left cheek.
I nod. “It looks like a tag for a paranormal experimental facility.”
I try not to shudder. Paranormal experimental facilities are the worse. They kidnap anything with magic in their blood, including Keepers, lock them up, and do all sorts of experiments on them.
His brows furrow. “How do you know about tags?”
I shrug. “My parents talk about it sometimes. It’s crazy how many paranormal experiment facilities they’ve had to tear down.”
“Yeah, they’re on the rise, too.”
“Really?”
He nods, reaching to zip up the bag. “I’ve been noticing a lot of tags lately.” After he zips up the bag, he pushes it back into the chamber. “And not just on Zombies. On Vampires, Fey,” his voice drops a notch, “Wolves.” He clears his throat. “But anyway, I’ve been looking into it, and I think they might be linked to each other somehow. I just don’t know who’s running the show.”
“Is that part of your job?” I ask with skepticism. “To find out who’s tagging?”
“I told you there was more to our job than finding dead bodies.” He steps toward me, tugging the sleeves of his shirt down. “Now, close your eyes.”
I eye him with distrust. “Why?”
He gives me a blank stare. “Because I’m going to shove you in the body bag with the Zombie.” When I roll my eyes, his lips quirk. “I need you to shut your eyes so I can get us out of here without you seeing where the entrance and exit to this room is.”
“Fine.” I heave a dramatic sigh, pretending it’s a bigger deal than it is.
Once I get my eyes shut, he steers me somewhere with his fingers enclosed around my upper arms and his chest pressed against my back. I try to breathe normally, but for some reason, my breathing is coming out in sharp, uneven pants. It only becomes harder to get air into my lungs when he moves his hands to my waist, his fingers brushing against my bare skin.
I feel like I should say something, remind him of my no-touching rule. I mean, we just got all up in a Zombie for God’s sake. I shouldn’t want him touching me.
But it kinda feels nice.
Okay, a lot nice.
Thank God he finally comes to a stop; otherwise, I might have done something stupid, like said my thoughts aloud or touched him back. Considering he’s my teacher or whatever the hell his title is—I’m still not clear on that—I don’t think it’d be wise to get involved with him.
His fingers tense for a brief second before they fall from my waist. I take a deep breath and open my eyes, sighing in relief when I see that I’m standing in the center of the souvenir store again. I breathe in the fresh scent of non-Zombie air, smiling, glad to be out of the morgue. But when I catch sight of Jax staring at his phone, his skin as pale as a ghost, my smile falters.
“What’s wrong?” I ask. “Why do you look like… well, like you just examined a dead Zombie?”
He blinks up at me, paling even more. “We need to go back to the Academy.”
“Did something happen?”
“We … I got called in on a case.” His Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he swallows hard. “Alana, the name listed on the case file is … It’s Julian Lucas.”
