Veined (A Guardian of the Angels Novel) (24 page)

BOOK: Veined (A Guardian of the Angels Novel)
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“Where are they?” Attic asked, his anger exceeding his brother’s.

“Almost here,” Dimitri said.

Although I wanted to shout, my voice came out a weak whisper. “Draw them away from Maddy. Send her parents away.”

Attic held my gaze, hesitating, looking like he wanted to run toward me instead.

“Go,” I said. His coat whipped in the wind as he spun away.
I don’t want that to be the last time I see him.

I drank the pain, concentrating on the rainbows. Maddy’s last farewell. Marcus stood by my side, his grief and love pungent in the air.

Demons screamed. They were too close. My knees trembled with dizziness and Marcus gripped my upper arm, holding me steady. Albelin warned Jason not to get too close to them, but to use his demon side against the Keres, if he had to.

Crack.

A Keres demon landed on Maddy’s casket. Anger swelled in my gut, sweeping forward like a tsunami. I raised my hand and a bolt of lightning punched the crouching demon, throwing him into a gravestone and shattering it to pieces, as if it had been made of glass.

Whiteness momentarily blanketed my vision. When it came back, everything fuzzed and I fell to my knees.

Marcus roared at an approaching demon. Smoke jetted from his palms, looping around the demon’s hands, burning them until they’d fallen off. The demon cried in fury and charged at Marcus. The closer he got to Maddy’s casket, the thicker the smoke curled out of Marcus. A thick black snake twisted the demon’s head until he keeled.

Good.

I held on to my anger, the only thing keeping me conscious. How dare they ruin Maddy’s ceremony. She deserved beauty and peace. Not this.

Not this.

The rainbows faded. I probably only had seconds left. When I next gained consciousness, I’d be my old self again.

A black figure lunged toward me as if in slow motion. I could see the glint of sunlight reflecting off his blade as it sliced the air toward me. Through the light, I could see the museum’s graffiti art—the beauty of heaven. But the sharpness of the blade threatened it. As soon as his knife pierced me, it would be tainted red. Which is what the demons wanted: to rip their way into heaven and take away its peace.

Maddy’s peace.

Attic’s words sounded in my mind.
I’d do anything to protect those gates from demons, from the Derinyes . . . I owe her that.

A black whip of smoke tore the demon’s fingers from the hilt. “You don’t hurt my friends,” Marcus roared, jumping on the demon, killing him with his own blade.

Marcus had just saved me. Protected me how he could.

Why was I refusing the power to protect my friends? Maddy’s voice flittered, bubbly and cheeky, in my head.
And the chance to kick some Arae ass, too.

Color and definition merged together and my body hit the leafy ground. Only my thoughts remained clear. Demons had taken Maddy’s life. I couldn’t let them take her peace, too. I owed her
that
.

I pushed myself onto all fours.
Urgent pain sizzled in my Vein. It felt like I was suffocating. In agony, and barely able to see, I crawled toward Marcus. I needed someone to know. To pass on the message.

I tried to inch closer, but my muscles seized up. I tumbled to the ground again. “Marcus.” It felt like I was screaming it, but the words barely escaped my mouth, impossible for anyone to hear.

The black spots in front of me grew.

No. I have to tell them. They have to know.

Again I forced all my energy into forming audible words. Nothing but a choking sound came out. Only a lingering of color remained. It had already happened. It was too late. I did the last thing I could think to do, desperately wishing it would work.

I let go of my mind shield and silently screamed, hoping Attic, any Guardian, would hear.
Don’t Lethe me. I choose to be. Don’t Lethe me, Attic. Don’t Lethe—

Blackness clutched me.

CHAPTER 20

 

THE RADIO-ALARM BLARED.
Voices tortured my ears. It was too dang early, so I reached to turn it off.
Want more sleep.

My hand didn’t budge. Freaking pins and needles. The tingling sensation seemed to be sliding further up. I must’ve been lying really weird.

Crap. I had to get up.

I peeled back my eyelids. T
hey slid up heavily. A collage of postcards swarmed into view, ploughing my memories to the surface. Maddy’s funeral. The demons. My drained Vein. I combed the side of the bed.

“Attic?” I croaked.

“Right here.” I faced his voice, thankful it hadn’t been the radio. On the bed next to me sat Attic, my arm pulled over his shoulder.

“Don’t Lethe me.”

Warmth flooded through my arm. I could feel his hope, his excitement. “I heard you tweeting in the graveyard, Lark.” He removed my hand, a little blood spilled out the edge of the cut. “I gave you just enough of my blood so I could ask. Are you sure? There’s no turning back once you’ve made this decision.”

I nodded. “You see, Jason was right—”

Attic’s face contorted into a jealous scowl. “What the hell does he have to do with it? You decide to become a Guardian to be with
him
?”

“Jeez, Attic, get a grip.” I scowled equally hard back at him. “It’s because of you I changed my mind. Because what you do for Tanya, I need to do for Maddy.”

Attic’s face relaxed. “At least now you’re making sense.”

I shook my head. He still needed the arrogance throttled out of him.

Attic raised a brow. “Really, Lark? Care to do the honors?”

Surely wouldn’t mind.

“Can still hear you.”

Hear me now you sexy, egotistical sprite?

Attic smiled. “Oh, you don’t know just how much I love being privy to your thoughts again.” He leaned toward me, his lips brushing my ear as he whispered. “You won’t be able to put a shield up until your Vein is pumping with Angel Blood again.” He pulled me up with him off the bed. “So keep that mind of yours tinkling.” His fingers ran along the curve of my breast. I bit my lip. “Like that, do you?” Hot kisses landed on my neck, inching toward my collarbone. I tingled all over. I wanted more. “Good. Now keep that on your mind.”

That was not playing fair.

“Who said anything about playing fair?” Attic grinned.

I narrowed my eyes.
Jason was right.
Attic scowled and I laughed.
See? Two could play at this game. I could torture you with all sorts of thoughts . . .

“Argh, stop it, Lark. It’s hard enough for me not to hurt the guy as it is. Your memories of him will tip me over the edge.”

“You promised you wouldn’t hurt him.”

“Well, I didn’t swear it,” Attic snapped.

“‘But you’ll follow through with it based on your own sense of fairness.’ Those were your words, right?”

“I won’t touch him because you don’t want me to, little Lark. That doesn’t mean I won’t try to convince you he doesn’t deserve it, until you give me the go-ahead.”

“Looks like even Guardians have a dark side,” I said. Strangely, it attracted me even more to Attic. “Now, get me to that Vein Station, or whatever it is.
Someone
was right when they said I’m a coward if I choose the easy path. The painless path. So, I’ve chosen to be.”

“I’m glad to see you’re not wimping out.” Attic touched my Vein with his palm. “Are you willing to accept your gift, your Angel Blood? Willing to sacrifice yourself, if necessary, to protect the gates of Eirene? Willing to kill evil?”

“Yes,” I said and Attic dropped his arm.

“Well then, Lark, welcome to your new home. Now all that has to be done is to refill that Vein of yours.”

It really did sound like I was going to be pumped full of blood like I was some sort of car. Would they drag me to some dodgy underground lab, with rusty knives and all, and cut me open?

“You’ve been watching too many horror movies.” Attic chuckled. “The ritual can be done anywhere, but since it’s your first one,” Attic said, his eyes lighting up, “we’ll do it in the ballroom.”

“My
first
one? The ballroom?”

“Rather be a parrot, Lark?” Attic grinned and pushed me by the small of my back out of his room. “The first time you do the ritual is when you accept becoming a Guardian. After that it’s every time you’re running low on Angel Blood. Most of us do it once a month.”

I had no idea.

“Come on then, let’s get started.” Attic pulled me out the door. Halfway across the balcony
, I stopped him.

My light mood vanished. “Attic, there is one thing I need to do first.”

He looked at me and I knew he’d read my thoughts. I crossed my arms waiting for his response. Attic smiled, dug a hand in his pocket and jingled his keys. “As you wish.”

Attic drove past my family home and parked a couple of houses down. I hastened out of the car, ignoring my jelly legs. I strode passed the cruiser monstrosity and up the lavender-lined path.
What now?
It wasn’t like I could ring the doorbell and have a chat. And I didn’t want that either, I just wanted to see. See what I was giving up.

Attic took my hand and led me over the front lawn to the massive oak. “Up you go,” he said, and placed my palms on two knobs on the trunk.

Yeah, like I’d just spy on my family—actually, that might just be best.

“I know. Now clamber up, Lark.”

“Of course you would know that,” I muttered and hauled myself up the tree. God, how did Attic climb up to that tree house every day, and with me on his shoulder? Finally, I reached the branch where Attic already sat waiting. I wrapped my legs around the thick branch just in front of him. All my muscles wobbled and Attic held on to my hips to steady me.

“I can balance,” I said, and he immediately let go. “I’m just
. . . nervous, that’s all.”

His gloved hand brushed my shoulder as he pointed to my old room. “You almost always kept your windows open,” he said.

Through the shut windows I could see a couch and flat screen TV, and a coffee table, empty crisp wrappers and a half eaten Snickers abandoned on top. “It was too claustrophobic in there otherwise.” My words came out choked. I’d seen enough. Nothing of me was left in the room. Even the freaking windows. “We can go now,” I said. “There’s no point in this.”

I slipped down a few branches and paused. The garage door had been opened and my old Toyota was coming out, its lights popped up. In the setting sun it was still possible to see into it. To see Mom. Jeffrey.

Mom, wearing her favorite green blouse I’d helped her select in Portland, sat behind the driver’s wheel with a bright smile on her face. Her mouth moved, but I couldn’t make out the words. I focused on Jeffrey in the passenger seat, laughing.

When the car disappeared from view, I jumped off the tree and kicked the clumpy ground. Attic moved in front of me and I went to step around him. He blocked me. I looked away, but I could still feel his gaze on me. Knew he was reading my mind and combining it with my body language. He would know how I was feeling. How sorry for myself. How selfish.

“Love is never selfish,” he said, gently.

Staring at the little path leading to the front door, I shivered. I
couldn’t let go of the thought. The hundreds of times Mom, Dad and Jeffrey would walk this path without ever realizing what they’d lost, while I was sure every step I’d take would echo the pain of this loss for the rest of my life.

“It doesn’t ever go away,” Attic said, “But it does get easier. Every demon I slay comforts me. One less threatening Tanya, threatening innocent humans, threatening the angels.” Attic lifted my chin so I had to look at him. When my gaze met his concerned one, I realized how much comfort I took from having him around.

“I’m angry and it frigging hurts, Attic . . . I both loved and hated to see them laughing.” I covered my face with my hands. “I know that sounds terrible, and I should be grateful they’re alive and happy—”

“But you want to be missed as well.”

I nodded, and Attic wrapped his arms around me and drew me into his fresh rain scent. It was almost as if it could wash part of the pain away.

I really
am
glad they’re happy, it’s just a bit obscured, right now.
Attic squeezed harder, almost crunching my bones. I wished it harder still.

Something brushed against my leg, followed by a loud purring. “Mottle.” I extracted myself from Attic’s arms and crouched, petting the grey and brown fur with my free hand. With every stroke the cat’s purr got louder. “Oh, you’re such a lovely-dovely little kitty.” Attic made an amused noise and then a disgusted one as I smacked a kiss between Mottle’s ears. “Beautiful cat.” Suddenly the sadness came again like a sweeping kick to my side. Mottle flopped onto the grass, wriggling on her back, her soft grey underbelly exposed.
She remembers me still, doesn’t she?
I continued to pat her while I waited for Attic’s answer.

“Animals aren’t lethable. You were always nice to the cat, of course it’s going to remember you.”

A warm feeling settled in my chest, not replacing the sadness, but dulling it. I studied Attic, standing arms crossed a good five feet away. “You don’t like cats, do you?”

Attic scratched his nose and shuffled. “It’s not that I don’t like them. Not really a fan of their claws, though.”

The warmth spread further around my chest, down my arms and legs. He was
scared
of them. A rumble of laughter built up in my stomach, threatening to come out. But how could it, with so much sadness inside?

A spider crawling over the bottom of the tree trunk caught Mottle’s attention and she leapt toward it. I sucked in the flare of pain at her leaving me and shot up. It was time to get out of here.

Attic nodded and turned, heading back to the Porsche, and I trailed behind him, saying my final goodbyes to my past.

A deep sigh escaped Attic. “Here, I pinched these for you.” He handed me a few stalks of lavender.

I lightly touched the purple tips, and smelled the scent it rubbed off onto my fingers. “Thank you.”

I turned on the radio, as if the songs would be able to drown out the thoughts in my head. But eac
h song seemed to strike a chord. It was like any lyrics found a connection to my pain and pumped up the volume, singing over and over again like a chorus.

It wasn’t long before Attic turned it off. I rolled the lavender in my fingers. I gazed out of the window as we approached my high school. Old high school now? Probably. My friends weren’t there, which was the only thing keeping me going in the first place, and I’d have Guardian training to complete.

As we passed the parking lot, I cringed. Flashes of bright blood splattering, turning into clear sticky puddles. The demons circling us. Maddy. Poor, beautiful Maddy.

Attic moved to the side of the road, put the car in park, and crawled into the passenger side with me. His strong arms clamped around my waist, lifting me onto his lap. That was when I realized I was convulsing and saying something over and over again, but I couldn’t hear the words. My mind buzzed, hurting, and it was difficult to see. The only clear sense I had was the smell of lavender that I had crushed between my fingers.

I had no idea how long I cried, but Attic held me as the sun disappeared behind the school gym.

“Take me back now,” I said, wiping my cheeks. “It seems all I’ve been doing these last few months is crying.” I dabbed my eyes with my sleeve. “From now on, I’m going to keep these flood gates shut.”

Attic twisted me so I faced him, but I kept my head down. It was enough that he’d heard me lose it completely. I couldn’t stand having him see my puffy face as well.

“You have every reason to be upset and if you need to cry, you should.” He lightly kissed the top of my head. “And it means a lot that you trust me enough to do it in front of me.”

I sniffed. His gentle words fluttered in my stomach. I glanced up at his face, his eyes a sad sympathetic grey, and I swallowed. I didn’t want him to let go of me.

Attic looked out the windshield over my head, troubled. A part of me wanted to touch his Vein, so I could know what he was thinking, but Attic maneuvered me off his lap and moved back into the driver’s seat. It was dark and we’d be
en sitting together for so long. It was time we got back. I put the squashed lavender into my pocket and smiled. “I want to sleep now and tomorrow I want to become an official Guardian.”

Without saying a word, Attic started the car and drove off.

 

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