Broken Faith: Spiritual Discord, 1

by Brandy Nacole

  “I hope you know how grateful I am that you helped me. Without your help I would more than likely be dead. It’s not that I’m afraid of death. I just want a chance to prove my belief.”

  I break my one-way stare with the painting to face Kayson. Misery covers his face. I wonder if that look is from the pain or the feeling that his belief is false. I have no such belief that the blood children can be saved, not even the halfs. We were bound by Lucifer’s sinful blood. There is no coming to the light with that evil slinking through the veins.

  “But obviously I can’t stay here anymore. It’s too dangerous.”

  There’s something I don’t know.

  “That’s why I’m moving you. You can’t run from the hounds, let alone fight them.”

  Kayson viciously shakes his head. “No Sabrina. I’m leaving without you.”

  Ugh. Figures that angels would be even more stubborn than humans. That’s one thing about being a half. We know when to cow down and survive. Yeah, it may be the cowardly thing to do, but a hundred years later, I’m still around, which is more than those who were caught can say.

  I look Kayson up and down. “How, may I ask, will you do that? Are you just going to limp your way out of the yard? You won’t even make it to the front lawn before the hounds have you for dinner. That’s just insane talk.”

  A rumble escapes Kayson’s chest as he balls his hands into fists. “I can’t put Emma or anyone else in danger, Sabrina.” With sheer willpower, Kayson stands. I automatically respond and I’m at his side before he’s fully upright.

  “Are you crazy? What are you doing? You’re not leaving, Kayson, not without my help.” I try steading him but he shoves my hands away. Hurt courses through my body at his refusal. Am I really that much of a bother?

  But in a move I didn’t expect, Kayson reaches out to me. He runs his hands up my arms, over my shoulders, then cups my face in his hands, forcing me to look him in the eye. My body stiffens with fear when I see the compassion there.

  “I can’t put you in danger.”

  A lump forms in my throat. I try talking around it but it’s no use, so I just run my hands up and lay them over his. We stay like that for a moment. Just staring at one another. I want to say something, but I don’t know what. This is strange territory for me.

  After my emotions tamper down just a bit, I’m able to find my voice. “I am not leaving you to die.” I pour as much emotion as I can into those words. He has to understand that I’m not going anywhere. I don’t even understand it myself. My first instinct from the moment I met Kayson was to run. But the longer I stay with him, the harder I am finding it to leave.

  I know Kayson has an argument ready, but it’s cut-off by the sound of a car door slamming. I pull back away from Kayson, though I keep eye contact.

  “I promise to leave you to fend for yourself…once I have you somewhere safe. Until then, you’re stuck with me.”

  I break away from his penetrating eyes to look out the small peephole. Emma and her friend Briston have returned. They are arguing over something as they make their way into the house. I guess it’s time to get the plan into action.

  I turn back to Kayson. “I know you don’t like them helping, but Emma’s already in trouble. Falon knows she’s hiding you. The sooner we get you moved, the sooner the heat is off her. But in order to move you, I need her and her friend’s help. Please Kayson just let us do this for you.” I’m not sure if Kayson is going to agree at first, but after a few moments he nods.

  “I’m going to talk to Emma and her friend. Please promise me you won’t do something brainless while I’m gone.” I make the plea to Kayson in hopes he will be honest with me. The thought of leaving so soon after he said he wanted to run away by himself makes me nervous.

  “I promise I’ll stay.” Kayson steps forward, almost touching me again. “But you have to make me a promise.”

  I nod my head and wait for him to make his request.

  “Once I’m set, you have to promise you will run and never look back. I want you to get as far away from me as you can.”

  I start to make the promise, but can I? Can I live with never knowing what happened to Kayson? With that uncertainty in mind, I do something my mama always tsked me over. I cross my fingers behind my back.

  “I promise.”

  I make sure Kayson is safely settled back on the bed before leaving to find Emma. I still feel uneasy about leaving him, but I have no choice. I have to leave him in order to save him.

  I enter through the back door without knocking. I’m not about to stand out in the open where the hounds can see me. I walk through the large kitchen, which smells strongly of herbs. The smell takes me back to my childhood home. Our house often had the fresh aroma of herbs in the air. I would help my mama dry and crush them for storage when the seasons were right. Herbs were essential in any household in my time. They were used for many things, mainly for health. My mama would tell me the story behind each herb and how it was discovered to promote our health. I don’t know how many of the stories are true, but I remember sitting beside my mother in awe. I would become enraptured by her stories. I wonder if Emma’s mother did the same. If she does, I hope Emma cherishes those times. Small moments we find so pointless can become cherished memories with time and the perspective that wisdom brings.

  I walk on out of the kitchen, taking in one last whiff of the fragrant air. Emma and her friend Briston are standing by the front door, still arguing. I think about giving them a few minutes’ privacy, but then the boy—Briston— says something about a hound being at the café. This is a need-to-know situation.

  “What are you talking about?”

  Emma and Briston both turn around to face me. Both raise their hands to their hearts. Obviously I scared them.

  “Yep, there’s another heart attack nearly brought on. You’re two for two.” Emma takes her hand off her chest and plops down in a chair, breathing rapidly.

  “I heard you discussing the hounds. What happened?” They probably don’t appreciate my tone, but if the hounds are making a move then we need to make one of our own.

  Emma looks up at me with narrowed eyes. “Have you ever heard of knocking?”

  Is she joking? Why can’t this dim-witted human stay focused for a second?

  “You’ll forgive me if I decide not to stand outside and wait for a passing hell hound to tear me into pieces. Now tell me what happened.”

  Briston takes a seat on the couch, covering his face with his hands, then slapping his hands down angrily. “A hound—not the same one that was here last night but another one—was at the café where Emma works. He was watching her.”

  It must be the same hound that was following me last night. But why are the hounds just following us? Why don’t they just attack? I don’t like this one bit. We have to get Kayson moved, and fast.

  “Did he speak with you?”

  Emma shakes her head. Before saying anything she and Briston exchange a questioning glance. This doesn’t bode well with me.

  “He didn’t say anything, but he did hear something.” Emma heaves a sigh. “Our friends went hiking yesterday and they found—” Emma’s words are cut off by a knock on the door. The knock comes again but this time with a severe urgency.

  I slip back into a corner nook out of view, after gesturing for them to go see who it is. Briston shrugs his shoulders and stands. Briston cautiously open the front door to reveal a bubbly redhead who’s bouncing on her toes and hugging herself.

  “It’s freezing out here. Let us in.”

  The girl pushes her way past Briston, with a dark brown-haired boy in tow. He’s carrying something long, wrapped in a sheet. The boy gives Briston an apologetic smile as he’s pulled into the living room. The girl swivels around with a big smile on her face.

  “So, what were you two love birds doing?”

  I can hear a heartbeat pick up and the smell of anger fills the air. The emotion and racing heartbeat is Briston’s.

  �
�Will you stop saying that? We are not love birds. Friends, Braylee, we are just friends.”

  The girl—Braylee—throws up her hands. “Sorry B, I was just kidding around. Jeez, what’s got your underwear in a twist with needles?”

  Briston walks back over to the couch, brushing his curly, blonde hair out of his face. “Nothing.”

  Braylee looks at Emma with question in her eyes. Emma shrugs her shoulders, obviously unsure of what is bothering Briston. I could tell from Briston’s earlier demeanor that he is a nice guy, and obviously not one to get irate with his friends for no reason. They all look a little shocked by his display. But I know from personal experience everyone has a breaking point.

  The boy that came with Braylee nudges her. “Why don’t you show them why we’re here?” The boy seems a little uneasy. I guess I would be too if I was towed in where it didn’t appear I was welcomed.

  Braylee smiles at Emma. “We brought the sword.”

  Emma comes alive and jumps to her feet. Something’s going on here. Emma wouldn’t invite her friends here without a reason—even she’s not that dumb. But what sword are they talking about?

  Emma eagerly walks over to the boy. “Let me see.”

  “Wait, Chase.”

  The boy who is unwrapping the sword—Chase—pauses. He looks at Braylee with confusion as she points at Emma.

  “Let’s get one thing straight. This is apparently a very rare sword. I don’t want any bickering over who gets to take it home and who doesn’t.”

  Briston scoffs. “Is this your way of saying you’re taking the sword back home with you and that no one else can have it?”

  Braylee cuts her eyes at Briston. “Not exactly. But until we can come to an agreement on what to do with the sword, I’m keeping it.”

  Emma has an unsettling look on her face as she regards Braylee. If these four are close friends, their friendship seems overly strained.

  “Just let us see it.”

  Chase finishes unraveling the sheet from around the sword. I have to keep myself contained once the sword is visible. An angel sword. The weapon willed to the angels for their exclusive use. No hound or blood child can even touch it. Its hilt is made of the purest of gold, preventing Lucifer’s creations from handling them. They are deadly, beyond-razor-sharp swords that effortlessly slice through the thick skin of a hound, and behead a blood child with one swing. Not that they are used in action much. The only time an angel uses the angel sword is for self-defense. I think I know where the sword came from.

  Briston joins the others to admire the sword. “Can I see it?”

  Chase hands over the sword to Briston, who takes it in his hands very carefully. I would be gentle too. The sword is no toy.

  “It’s a beauty isn’t it?” Chase asks.

  Braylee snorts and elbows Emma. “Men and their toys.”

  Emma agrees, although it seems a little forced. “Hey, why don’t you guys make yourselves comfortable and I’ll get us some snacks.” Emma walks past Briston and nudges him in the back. “Briston, can you help me?”

  Briston hands the sword back to Chase before following Emma into the kitchen. I slip into the kitchen at high speed. If the new arrivals see anything at all, it will only be an impression of movement that they won’t be able to make out.

  Emma and Briston are standing off in a corner by some herb plants, the farthest point in the kitchen away from the living room. They continue their discussion without pause as I approach. Emma looks a little hysterical. I’m beginning to have a little more respect for this human. She was painfully ignorant at the start, but she seems sincere in wanting to help. She also looks exhausted.

  “What are we going to do? We have to get her to leave that sword!” she whispers with urgency.

  “I don’t know how we are going to do that. She’s not going to let go of that sword without a fight or a very good explanation. And even then I don’t know that she will let it go. You know how she is.”

  “I could solve this problem.” I say, leaning back against the counter.

  Emma gives me an accusing look. She’s probably thinking the worst of me. “How?” She asks skeptical.

  I’m tempted to mess with her by saying I’ll drain her friend dry, but now is not the time. “I can coerce her.”

  Emma’s eyes go wide. Her face turns grim and she looks ready to pounce on me. Well if she doesn’t like that, bleeding her friend dry is still an alternative.

  Briston places his hand on her arm. “What do you mean? What would happen to her?”

  “Nothing permanent. It’s just a twist of the mind.” Twisting someone’s thoughts didn’t take much. It was a gift allotted to the blood children so we can render our prey without too much fuss.

  Briston looks over at Emma. “This may be the only way. If it won’t hurt her, why don’t we give it a shot?”

  Emma turns from us, directing her gaze out the window. She crosses her arms over her chest. She knows we have no other option, but she clearly doesn’t like it. I don’t know what she’s fretting over. The little redhead isn’t willing to let go of the sword. My option won’t injure anyone, and more importantly, it will get us the sword. I will feel a little less guilty about leaving Kayson if I know he’s healing and has some way of defending himself, so we definitely need that sword.

  Emma swivels back around. In a low, displeased voice, she says. “Fine, but you better not hurt her.”

  I ignore the jab. “What kind of story would you like me to tell her?”

  “Wait, you have to meet her and talk to her? Can’t you just do it from in here?” Emma asks.

  “Do you not get the whole concept of coercion? It’s a twisting of the mind. To twist that mind, I have to look through the mind’s entrance: the eyes. How can I do that in here?” I try keeping my snippy tone hidden, but I can’t. She may mean well, but Emma’s ignorance has been getting under my skin from Day One. In a bold move, something Emma has become good at, she steps up in my face, pointing her finger at me.

  “Don’t you get snarky! This is my friend we’re talking about. I don’t want her getting any more involved than she already is.”

  She’s very lucky I’m in a good mood about them finding Kayson’s sword. It’s dangerous for anyone, human or supernatural being, to approach a blood child in such a manner. We don’t take kindly to threats or sudden actions made toward us. I hold my spot, ignoring her impertinence. Information is more important right now.

  “What do you mean, any more involved? Did something happen you haven’t told me?”

  Emma backs away. The scent of her anger burns away, replaced by worry and frustration.

  “Like we were trying to tell you earlier, a hound came to the café today. Of course, my friends didn’t know what or who he was. They told Briston and me the story of how they found the sword. The hound was very interested in the story, and once Braylee was done, the hound was gone. He knows that Braylee has the sword.”

  That may not mean much. Once the hound realized that the group of friends didn’t actually know what they had, he may have brushed it off. An angel sword is no good to the hounds. Even though the hound knows this, he probably felt obligated to tell his Alpha before doing anything else.

  “The girl will be fine. But we need that sword. The simplest solution is to tell the girl that sword is only a dream, but that story isn’t an option if others still remember the true story.”

  “That’s true. She’ll have to manipulate Chase too.” Briston reminds Emma, while she’s thinking about the best story to tell her friend. Emma heaves an exasperated sigh, while I process the new information.

  “That could be tricky. I can only coerce one person at a time. You will have to get them into separate rooms.” Briston nods and waits for Emma to come up with the right story.

  Emma runs her hand over her forehead. “Okay, how about this. You tell Chase that Braylee said we could take the sword to get it looked at by an expert.”

  “And what of the girl?�
�� I ask, growing a little impatient with Emma. This isn’t rocket science. It was a small fib. She should know her friends well enough to come up with something convincing.

  “Just give me a minute. Braylee’s tough. Even if you tell her something, I’m sure there will come a point when she starts questioning things.” Emma paces in the small space between the counter and the plants.

  “And what do we tell Chase when he finally comes around to ask about the sword?” Briston asks.

  “You will come up with something I’m sure. You will have a few weeks.” I’m not here to solve all their problems for them.

  Emma stops her pacing. “Okay, obviously we have to tell her the same story you tell Chase, but you have to add more details. The more details the better.”

  I nod. “Emma, I want you to find an excuse to take Braylee upstairs. I think the boy will be easier to manipulate, so I’ll deal with him first.”

  Emma and Briston leave the kitchen. I hear Emma ask Braylee to join her upstairs. Braylee is resistant at first but finally trudges up the stairs, following Emma. Once I’m sure both girls are upstairs, I slowly walk out into the living room. I want to come across as normal as possible.

  Briston is a ball of nerves when I enter. He jumps up like a rocket and rushes to my side. “Chase, this is Emma’s cousin Sage. Sage this is Chase.” I plaster on a smile.

  “Hi, Chase. It’s nice to meet you.” I sit down beside him, thankful for the clean clothes and wash in the creek last night. Appearance helps.

  The boy is mesmerized as he looks at me. The pheromones I’m pumping out come in handy when I need them. Without wasting time, I look Chase directly in the eyes, searching for the path into his mind.

  “Briston has been telling me all about your adventure in the forest,” I start, adding my trance-voice to the pheromones. “You must have been excited to find such a strange object in the woods. And it’s so nice of Braylee to agree to let Emma and Briston take the sword for a few weeks to have appraised, don’t you think?

  “Braylee agreed. Yes. It’s nice of Braylee.” Chase nods.

  Chase is relatively easy to coerce, once I find my way in. I twist his memories here and there, pushing Braylee’s proclamation to keep the sword to the back of his mind, hiding it amongst some more painful memories he has suppressed. The poor boy has plenty of those. I haven’t sent myself into another’s mind in quite some time. I’m overwhelmed when I see and feel the pain Chase has hidden.