Blind Sight

by Nicole Storey

  Thoughts swirled around her head in a jumbled mess of discord. No sooner had she settled on one mental object before another swooped in and took its place. The snapping of a twig alerted her that she was no longer alone, but Jordan couldn’t care less. She didn’t even care if she ever woke up from this nightmare. She wanted to die.

  The weight of a hand on her shoulder drew her still-weeping eyes upwards. Ivy had returned. She wiped a wayward tear from Jordan’s face and then offered her a hand to help her stand.

  “Come on, Jordan, get up. No matter what, you never want to let them see weakness.”

  Jordan had no idea who the “them” was that Ivy was referring to, but she allowed the demon to help her stand. Holding her hand, Ivy led her over to a mirrored pool that was not there before. She knelt down on the green grass, pulling Jordan with her.

  She had no idea what was to happen next. Her thoughts were still with Gabe. She wanted to be angry with Ivy for grabbing her before and doing…whatever it was she did that caused her to lose her mind. But, she remembered the demon’s tears, crying in sympathy as Jordan writhed in agony on the ground. Whatever all this meant, it wasn’t Ivy’s will. It was someone else’s.

  Gulping in a shuddery breath, Jordan tried to get herself under control. She turned to Ivy, who was staring into the pool as if the meaning of life could be found there, just underneath the surface. “Ivy, this is all a dream, right? I didn’t really…kill…Gabe, did I?”

  Silence. Jordan didn’t think Ivy would answer, and then she did. “This was a test,” she replied softly. “You passed, by the way.”

  A test? For what? Suddenly tired and drained, Jordan was sick of the riddles. She wanted a straight answer. She wanted to wake up and get out of these woods that were far from beautiful now. “What the hell does all this mean, Ivy?”

  “Look into the pool, Jordan.”

  If it would get her answers, Jordan would ride a flea-infested camel through the Sahara. Sighing, she peered into the surface of the glistening pool. Staring back were two teenaged girls, one fair and one dark. The only similarities between them were their ages and their eyes. Ivy’s glowed scarlet-red while Jordan’s shone pure white - the sign of a high-level demon.

  “It means,” Ivy whispered, “that our futures are undetermined. This dream could easily become reality and we must always be on guard, even with Aamon’s protection. Nothing is certain.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “Jordan, it was a dream! Please, calm down; it’s all okay now.”

  If Gabe said that to her one more time, she was going to push him in the lake. The rain, which was still in the early stages right now, sprinkled down, but it wasn’t enough to wash away the nausea rising in her gorge. It had, however, been enough to wake her. She’d exploded up from the rickety chair, scanned the surrounding area for anything or anyone one who may have followed, all the while screaming at the top of her lungs for Gabe.

  When her Guardian appeared in a sound of rushing wings, whole and healthy, Jordan threw herself into his arms, sobbing with relief that she hadn’t killed him. Now, however, he was pissing her off so badly that a swift kick to his nether regions would make her feel a lot better. He was keeping something from her; she was sure of it. Just like Gabe could read her, she’d learned some of his tells, too. When he was evading the truth, he ran his hands through his hair and looked to the right of whomever he was talking to. He knew a lot more than he was letting on and, dammit, this was her life!

  Jordan took a deep, cleansing breath to try to quell her nervous stomach. Gabe stared into the distance, rain spotting his button-down shirt, droplets glistening in his hair. Usually, his calm demeanor would rub off on her, but today, it only served to make her even more upset. How could he act so aloof when her world was falling apart?

  “Gabe, will you please listen? These demons want something from me! Ivy touched me and I went berserk. I killed you with the touch of my hand, for God’s sake! Why do they keep showing up?” She rounded on him, a flicker of the hatred she’d felt before causing her to shiver. When Gabe said nothing, hiding his emotions like only angels can, she burst into tears. Sheesh, she was a mess. She hated to cry.

  Her tears did the trick, though. Gabe bowed his head and Jordan’s hope climbed just a smidge. He probably wouldn’t serve her a steak dinner, but at least he’d throw her a bone.

  “Jordan,” he paused, as if running words through his mind, sifting through them like pearls to find just the right ones. “We don’t know what the demons want or what, if anything, it has to do with you. We’ve been checking into it but haven’t found anything concrete yet.”

  She wasn’t surprised by this news. After all, they were angels, not detectives. Even with the power of God, there was only so much they could do when it came to demon activity. The demons had their own god, who had also gifted them with tremendous power. Maybe she could help, though.

  “What about Ivy?” she asked Gabe.

  His brow furrowed at the name. “Who is Ivy?”

  Tossing him into the lake was looking better and better. Didn’t he ever listen to her? “I told you! She’s the demon girl who was in my vision!”

  “It wasn’t a vision, Jordan,” he said, his tone superior, as if he were talking to a child. She eyed his crotch. Yeah, that idea was looking better, too. “It was a dream. Let’s not confuse the two,” he finished.

  She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Can you at least look into Ivy? See if any of the horn-blowers know anything about her?”

  Gabe grimaced at her pet word for angels. “Jordan, there are a lot more demons in existence than there are angels. We can’t possibly keep tabs on all of them. That’s why we have the Circle.”

  She mulled this over. The relationship between angels and members of the Circle was strictly “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.” Still, she couldn’t help but try to squeeze him for a little more information. It could come in useful one day. “Why?” she asked, before he could change the subject. “Why are there more demons than angels?”

  Sure that he wouldn’t divulge anything else, Jordan considered her next move. She was surprised when he answered, “Because there is more evil in this world than good.” She looked up. Gabe’s smile was thin, strained. “These days, souls are racing downstairs faster than a plunging elevator. There aren’t any crowds waiting at our gates.” He shrugged. “Times have changed.”

  “Depressing thought,” Jordan muttered under her breath. More loudly, she begged, “Gabe, will you please just check into it? I have to know what’s going on. I…” she faltered, refusing to cry again. “I can’t keep living like this.”

  He looked torn. She knew he wanted to help her, but Michael was calling the shots, always with the stick up his –

  “Jordan, we’re handling this.” She went to protest but he held up a hand. “I’m sorry. I can’t go to our council and put out an APB on a lesser demon named Ivy just because you had a dream.”

  “It wasn’t just a dream!”

  “It was, Jordan!” He ran a hand over his face. Gabe rarely raised his voice to anyone and the fact that he did now showed how serious the situation with the demons really was. “Go back to the cabin,” he said more softly. “You’re getting soaked.”

  She nodded, knowing this was all the help she would get from him for now. He kept a reassuring hand on her arm as she slowly picked her way across the slippery dock. He let her go when she reached the grass at the bottom of the hill. Before he could disappear, she touched the back of his wet shirt. “Your wings have black feathers. They’re as dark as a star-filled night sprinkled with magic. I bet they are beautiful.”

  “How did you--“

  Jordan shook her head. “What do I know? It was only a dream, right?”

  “Nathan, I’m scared.”

  Jordan sat at the kitchen table and chewed on her thumbnail while Nathan sat across from her and laced up his boots. In the living room, Quinn loaded guns. He pretended not to listen, but Jordan knew he was. She
didn’t care.

  “Jordy, why are you so uptight about this?” Nathan gave his laces one final tug and then gave her his full attention. “It’s no different than any other hunt.” He tossed his hair out of his eyes and winked.

  He needs a haircut, Jordan thought. From the living room, Quinn racked another shell into his gun. Jordan snuck a glance at him. She expected to find him smug and full of himself, especially since she wasn’t allowed to go, but he wasn’t. Instead, he looked…intense, vigilant. Jordan had never seen Quinn uptight about any run, but he sure appeared to be now. That certainly didn’t make her feel any better. Right now, she would prefer him to be pompous. The fact that both of them seemed to be having bad vibes about this night didn’t bode well for the outcome.

  Outside, thunder rolled across the sky, shaking the cabin and vibrating all the way through Jordan’s shoes and up her legs. Seconds later, a spectacular display of lightning turned the dark evening into day, illuminating the world in hues of silver. The storm only served to feed Jordan’s angst.

  “Nathan, what in bloody hell do you hope to accomplish in weather like this? Even the creature will have enough sense not to hunt in this monsoon! You’re going to end up fried extra crispy by lightning or shooting each other!”

  Nathan shook his head, clearly dismissing her concerns. He stood up, stomping to make his jeans fall over his boots. On his way to the ancient refrigerator, he rubbed her head and she slapped his hand away.

  “Dammit, I’m not playing around, Nathan! Something feels wrong about this. The demons, my crazy visions, Corbett…there’s more going on here than just a hunt. I really think we should wait and look into this more before you go charging in blind!”

  “Dreams,” her brother replied. He opened a bottle of water and drank deeply. “You had a dream outside, not a vision.”

  She was not having that argument again. It was ironic how everyone kept telling her that her visions were dreams when she was the expert on them. They couldn’t have visions if they consumed a pound of peyote and chased it with moonshine.

  “Quinn’s on edge, too.”

  “Leave me out of it, Jordan,” Quinn replied with no real conviction, which only served to prove her right. If he really was at ease about the hunt, he would be taking potshots at her, enjoying her discomfort. His subdued nature did not go unnoticed by Nathan.

  “You think we should hold off?” Nathan took another swig of water as he waited for his twin to answer.

  “We can’t,” Uncle Case answered for him. He joined his nephew in the living room, handing him a sealed baggie full of extra batteries for their flashlights. Quinn took them without a word. Jordan thought he looked relieved not to have to answer Nathan’s question himself.

  “Jordan, you told us yourself that Buck may be the Kongamato’s next victim,” Case continued. “We can’t risk another life just because you’ve got a bad feeling. Hell, I’ve got a bad feeling, too, after those hot dogs you brought back from that hole-in-the-wall corner store this afternoon.” He rubbed his stomach. Jordan had to admit he looked a little green. Case pointed a finger at her. “You’d better save us some pizza tonight.”

  Jordan shook her head. “Uncle Case, your heartburn is the least of our worries right now. If you want to protect Buck, then camp out in his damn yard, but don’t go into the woods tonight!” By the end, she was yelling and shaking. All three men looked at her as if she’d forgotten to take her crazy pills.

  Nathan crossed the kitchen and pulled her into his arms. His familiar clean scent and soft t-shirt brought her comfort where nothing else could. I’m going to lose you. I’m going to lose you all…

  “No, you’re not,” he whispered back.

  Jordan hadn’t realized she spoke aloud. She held him tighter; willing him to feel what she felt – the absolute certainty that at least one of them was not coming back. Heavy footsteps from the living room that could only belong to Uncle Case stopped behind her.

  “Give her here, son,” he instructed Nathan.

  “No,” Quinn cut in. Unlike Case, her brother didn’t make a sound as he walked to the kitchen. “Give…give her to me.”

  Nathan, wary of his brother’s intentions, held Jordan even tighter. She was glad for this. History tended to repeat itself where she and Quinn were concerned. More than likely, he only wanted to yell at her for holding them up and frankly, she didn’t have the energy for it.

  “Nathan,” he said. “It’s okay. I need to talk to Jordan in private.” Instead of the usual bile that rolled off his tongue like acid, her brother sounded almost…gentle. It was certainly a tone she’d never heard Quinn use before and was enough to make her turn around and look at him. He looked solemn and more than a little worried. Crap.

  Quinn held his hand out -- a request. Jordan had never been in a situation before where she hesitated. Hesitation or thinking too much could get you killed. There were times when she’d been out on a limb and didn’t know what her next move would be until she acted. But she always moved, never stayed still. However, this time she did. Her mind was screaming for her to stay with Nathan and Uncle Case, stay where the light was – where it was safe. Her heart, though…her heart was crying for release, for the pain between her and Quinn to stop. In the end, she always led with her heart. It was both a blessing and a curse. She reached out and waited for the fall.

  His hand was rough, calloused from years of wielding knives and guns. It was smaller than his brother’s, but there was a shadowy strength rolling beneath the skin. Although not as comforting as Nathan’s, Jordan found the fit better. Quinn nodded toward the front porch and, when she didn’t object, began to walk. He didn’t pull her along, but walked beside her, matching her step for step.

  Outside, the storm seemed far away as they stood in the shelter of the run-down porch. Jordan expected Quinn to let go of her hand once they were away from curious eyes, but he didn’t. It felt wrong. It was easier for her to show affection with Nathan. He never pushed her out of his life the way his twin had, never blamed her for events she had no control over.

  He stared out at the approaching night. Every once in a while, a streak of lightning would highlight his face, making him beautiful in Jordan’s eyes. He leaned casually against the wall, feet crossed, hair just so, a GQ model on the outside – a body he never felt comfortable in, she didn’t think. He didn’t look at her, didn’t speak. Jordan couldn’t stand the quiet. Slowly, she tried to pull her hand from his and his grip tightened.

  “Don’t,” he commanded sharply. She sucked in her breath and he whispered, “Please.”

  He turned to face her. For the first time, she didn’t detect any anger. She studied him, trying to imagine what he wanted and why now and not years ago.

  “Talk to me,” he said.

  “What do you want me to say?”

  “Whatever you want.”

  She chewed on her lip, looking to the ancient floorboards for support. She couldn’t talk to him. She never could. But, she could be honest. “I’m afraid to.” Even with the storm raging around them, Quinn heard her. He sighed in response.

  “When you were little, I used to carry you everywhere I went.”

  The confession was a wrecking ball to the wall of protection Jordan had built around herself where her brother was concerned. As pieces of it shattered and went flying into the surrounding darkness, she cried silent tears.

  He hurried on. “I was afraid that if I put you down, even for a second, something would happen to you. It became an obsession. Dad would wake up at night and find I’d moved you to my bed.” He smiled a little.

  “What happened? What changed?”

  He held her hand, turning it this way and that, looking at it and maybe thinking how tiny it used to be in his own. It was hard for her to believe that he used to lead her around and protect her. Protect her from what, though?

  “Quinn?”

  “When I was little, I believed tragic deaths, especially ones associated with blood and pain, were ca
used by some sort of monster – the kind we kill. When Mom died….” He took a deep breath. Jordan knew it still hurt him to think about that night. She didn’t remember it, of course, but she could imagine what he and Nathan had seen. The harsh lights of the delivery room, the alien machines that beeped and whined, the doctor with his face half covered by a mask, nurses running in and out, their mother’s screams, and the blood – it would have seemed like a nightmare come to life, especially for two young boys. It was something they should have been spared. However, no one knew Jana Bailey would die that night. A joyful occasion turned to tragedy in a matter of minutes and no one even noticed the two boys as they stood in a corner and watched as their mother’s life drained out of her body in a river of red.

  “When Mom died, I assumed she’d been killed by a creature of some sort – one we couldn’t see. I didn’t understand what happened. Case and Dad didn’t think to explain it to me and Nathan at the time. Demons, monsters…they were all I knew. I could wrap my mind around them – they were real. I didn’t want anyone else in our family to die and you – you were so little and vulnerable. So, I did what I thought was best. I protected you, sheltered you to the point that you still couldn’t walk at a year and a half because I never put you down.”

  Quinn let go of her hand and she discreetly wiped her sweaty palm on her shorts. The world around them grew darker. Night was approaching on raven’s wings – quick and undeterred. She’d be late getting to Wendy’s house, but it couldn’t be helped. After all these years, she needed to hear what Quinn had to say, and he needed to tell it.

  “One day, Dad pulled me aside and explained what happened to Mom. He told me there was no monster or demon involved – that she died giving birth and that it was something that couldn’t be helped. He told me there was no one to blame and that I had to stop being so possessive of you.