Jordyn (A Daemon Hunter Novel Book One)

by Tiffany King

  My stomach felt like I'd swallowed a bowling ball, but I spoke up. "You're right," I said remorsefully as my eyes welled up. "You guys don't deserve my disrespect, but you also need to understand that I'm almost an adult. If I was a normal person, I'd be heading off to college in the fall all on my own. You guys should be less worried about me, knowing I can take care of myself."

  "Yes, but even with your gifts, it doesn't help if your mind is being bent by thatTrader," Krista said, grimacing over the word Trader like it had left a foul taste in her mouth.

  "I…" I bit back the urge to argue with her. The air felt sticky with their prejudice and narrow-minded beliefs. For a moment, I debated coming clean about the whole mind-bending thing, but if I admitted it now, they'd be even more pissed.

  "Can we talk about this later? I need to take a shower," I said, indicating my arms that still had patches of the light powdered sand clinging to them.

  Krista and Haniel tried to answer at the same time.

  "Not until you tell us where you were!" Haniel puffed out, sounding like a disgruntled parent.

  "Of course you can," Krista answered, glaring at Haniel.

  I turned, relieved to walk away when something that had been nagging at the back of my mind resurfaced. I turned back around to address Haniel. "If you were so concerned about me, why didn't you come get me?" I asked, genuinely curious.

  "The Soul Trader shielded your location," Haniel answered calmly.

  I nodded, trying to control my laughter. Emrys was no dummy. Whatever tricks a Soul Trader had, obviously even Haniel couldn't police them the way he would like. No wonder he was so pissed.

  Reaching the bathroom, I was startled when I saw my reflection in the mirror. Krista's assessment was dead on. I looked like something that even the cat wouldn't want to drag in. My hair was matted and grimy from lying in the sand. A small patch of sand was stuck to my left cheek, and my clothes looked like I had dragged them behind a dune buggy. That fricking Emrys. I guarantee he laughed his ass off, knowing the reaction I would get to how I looked. I pulled off my shirt in frustration and tossed it on the floor.

  "Jordyn, I brought you my bottle of deep moisturizing conditioner," Krista said, stepping into my bathroom only to come to an abrupt halt when she spotted my tattoo. "What is that?" she asked in a strangled voice.

  Her question was a bit dense since it was quite obvious what it was. "Um, a butterfly," I answered, playing dumb.

  "I know it's a butterfly. What the hell is it doing on your back?"

  "Whoa, are angels allowed to cuss?" I joked, trying to lighten the mood.

  "Don't you need an adult's permission or something to get a tattoo?" she asked, placing her hands on her hips.

  "Not when you're with Emrys," I answered truthfully, meeting her glare without qualms.

  "Right, I forgot. Yourfriendcan make anything possible," she said sarcastically, stepping closer to inspect my tattoo. "Getting a tattoo at some hole-in-the-wall isn't the smartest idea. You could get a life-threatening illness from instruments that haven't been sterilized properly. Not to mention diseases," she added, studying it intently.

  "Oh, crap. I knew I should have been suspicious when I saw him pull the needle out of an old Mason jar and wipe it on his jeans. Come to think of it, I bet him using a rusty needle wasn't the best idea either," I said sarcastically. "Give me a little credit, Krista. The place I got it from could give lessons on cleanliness."

  "It still doesn't change the fact that you got a tattoo without permission," she said tightly before turning and leaving the bathroom with steam trailing her.

  "Ugh," my shoulders drooped at her departure as I kicked off my jeans and stepped into the shower. I knew I was being a pain in the ass, yet I couldn't seem to stop lashing out. I guess it was just in my nature. Whatever the reason, being a teenager sucked ass as far as I was concerned.

  Lynn was waiting on my bed when I exited the steam-filled bathroom twenty minutes later.

  "What's up?" I asked, throwing my dirty clothes in the wicker hamper in the corner of my room.

  "I thought we could have a slumber party," she said, not meeting my eyes while she pulled at a loose thread on my comforter.

  "Really?" I asked skeptically. She didn't normally look so unsure. Sitting there all docile and shy was a complete contradiction to the image she projected with her short spiky haircut, multiple piercings, torn jeans, and black grunge rock shirt. Her newly adopted personality was seriously screwing with my mind. At the moment, she didn't remotely resemble my confidant of the past year. My sounding board. The one I could vent to that totally got where I was coming from. It was as if aliens had taken over her body and turned her into an adult without notifying me.

  Uncomfortable silence settled over the room like a heavy wet cloak as we stared each other down. I could feel a fissure slowly making its way between us. One of us suspicious, the other secretive.

  "Okay, yes! Krista and Haniel feel you need to be under lockdown," she finally admitted defensively.

  "So, now I'm a prisoner," I snipped, feeling my blood start to rise.

  "Only if you consider hanging out with your best friend a prison," she said, chucking a pillow at me in aggravation.

  "Nice try," I said, tossing the pillow back at her. "You can't guilt me into thinking this is right."

  "Don't be such a drama queen. Any parental figures would have a problem with their daughter traipsing around the world with some boy they don't know. The only difference is at least you get to hang out with your friend."

  "Yeah, but we all know I'm not like most teenagers. If Emrys tried something, it's not like I couldn't kick his ass with my eyes closed."

  "Not if he's in your head, manipulating your thoughts," she pointed out.

  I shifted uncomfortably at her words. That was the crux of the problem. If I would have just come clean about the mind bending, it might solve this issue.

  "So, are you going to show me your tattoo?" Lynn asked, offering up a truce.

  "I don't know. Are you going to let the otherprisoners rough me up?" I asked, finally breaking into a smile.

  "Word to the wise: Don't drop the soap in the shower," she said, raising a pierced eyebrow.

  "Gross," I said laughing, turning around to show off my tattoo.

  "Holy bat shit, that's amazing," she said, hopping off my bed to get a better look. "The detail's unlike anything I've ever seen. It's out of this effing world. It makes mine look a kindergartener did them in art class."

  "Yeah, Anthony's amazeballs. You wouldn't believe some of his work."

  "Anthony?" she asked curiously.

  Turning back around, I studied her facial expression to see if this was yet another ploy to see where I had been. I hated that I felt like I couldn't trust her as much as I wanted at the moment. Still, I decided to come clean. I could really gauge her intentions anyway, and all the deceit was getting exhausting. "Yeah, some guy Emrys knows in Shanghai. He was a bit strange with his freakish Mr. Clean attitude, but judging by Krista's reaction earlier, I guess it's a good thing he was so meticulous."

  "Shanghai? You lucky dog. That's one place we haven't been sent on a mission yet. How was it?"

  I launched into an excitement-filled explanation of everything I had seen on my short jaunt abroad. It felt nice to be honest as everything bubbled out of me. I described Anthony in detail from his massive frame down to our shared bug phobia. Lynn laughed out loud that even with his size he was still afraid of something so small.

  "Hey, don't underestimate the power of fear. Besides, everybody knows bugs are just creepy," I said thinking of my own squeamishness.

  "Ha, if you would have been with us a few years back you would have died," she said, lying back against my pillows.

  "Why? What happened?" I asked, completely intrigued. Over the last eleven months, I'd heard patches of their missions before I joined them. Each time, I soaked up their words as I analyzed the situation in my head like an equation. By the time the story
would end, I would have a clear picture of how I would've handled the situation had I been there.

  "It was when we were in the mountains on a rescue mission to get Mark. It was a big deal. There were other Bands from around the world that came to help. The Dark One was using any method imaginable to keep us away. Luckily, Haniel suggested we string up a net to cover the entire campsite. Still, there was no way we were prepared for what came next. Krista, Shawn, and me and Robert, took the first watch while everyone else slept," she said, shuddering at the memory.

  My skin began to crawl before she even said any more. I knew where the story was heading, yet I didn't stop her as I listened with morbid fascination.

  "Of course, we fell asleep," Lynn continued, shaking her head. "See, even we effed up when we were younger. Anyway, we woke a few hours later to Krista screaming bloody murder," Lynn went on. "At first, we were confused at what she was screaming about. It was pitch black and even the moon was blotted out. It took us a few seconds to realize that the moon and stars were missing because the net surrounding our camp was covered by, like, every insect imaginable. The netting bowed down from their weight, but we didn't think they'd be able to get in. We were wrong."

  "Oh my freaking god!" I yelled, gripping a pillow tightly to my chest. Just the image in my ever-processing mind was enough to make me want to jump up and shake all over. "What happened?" I asked in a whisper, not sure I wanted to hear more.

  "They found a way in, behind our tents. Millions of bugs flooded our campsite. At first, we tried to fight them off with torches from the fire pit, but they were relentless. They crawled over the bugs we had burned, snuffing out the fires."

  "Nooo, freaking frick. Did Haniel save you guys or what?" I asked, completely baffled on how they had been able to escape.

  "Nah, Haniel did his typical Houdini disappearing act. It was Krista who saved us. She came up with all these powers we didn't even know she had. She saved all of us more than once on that trip. Later we found out it was because she had become an Ascended, lucky for us."

  "Wow, she was badass. I wonder what changed her?" I pondered, lying back on my pillows next to Lynn.

  "She's still badass. She just doesn't wear her status on her sleeve like other badasses we know," Lynn said, giving me a nudge. "You really should cut her a little slack. She's just worried about you."

  I acknowledged her words with a nod. Humble pie was bitter going down, but I knew she had a point. Lynn lapsed into silence after that, and soon she was lightly snoring beside me. So much for the slumber party. I switched off the light, plunging the room into darkness. Even I was quickly feeling the effects of my travels with Emrys earlier that day. I was still miffed he'd dumped my body in my room without waking me, but I was too tired to dwell on it. My last thought before drifting off was when I'd be able to see him again now that I had prisoner status.

  CHAPTER TEN

  I was still on lockdown the next day, and the day after, and the day after that. By the time three weeks passed, with no sign of parole and no sign of Emrys, I was beyond aggravated. My wardens tried not to give me much of an opportunity to dwell on it. I was whisked away on one mission after the next. Sometimes with just Haniel and the Protectors, other times it would be a total group effort. I did the majority of the fighting under their observation so they could get a rough idea how my skills worked.

  When we weren't on missions, I was busy with one-on-one combat training with each of the Protectors. Curbing down my moves so I wouldn't hurt them proved to be more of a challenge than I would have anticipated. Even holding back I still left my mark on each of them. A bruise here, accidental broken nose there—which despite my apologies, Shawn still didn't believe me on that one. None of them complained though as they hobbled back to the house, trying to rub away various aches and pains.

  Three-and-half weeks now passed since my trip "gallivanting around the world," as Krista liked to refer to it. There was still no sign of Emrys, but I was able to continue taking out my frustrations on the guys. Mark tried to outmaneuver me by coming up from behind as we worked on a group exercise–by "group," I mean me against the three of them. We'd been at it for over two hours, and they had yet to last longer than two minutes with me before I knocked them on their asses and Haniel declared them out.

  "You're gonna wind up eating sand again, old man," I said to Mark, grabbing his wrist. In one fluid moment, he found himself pulled up over my head. His back slammed against the sand and my boot rested lightly on his jugular before he could even think to move.

  "Stop," Haniel said, indicating that Mark was out.

  I released Mark's arm and turned to the other two who were both eyeing me warily, wondering which move they should try next.

  "Would it help you guys out if I closed my eyes?" I teased. "Or maybe I can paint my nails."

  "That'd be helpful," Shawn muttered, throwing a sudden kick that would have caught me in the chin if my hand wasn't waiting to swipe it away in a lightning-fast move that he didn't see coming. I could have grabbed his heel and set him on his ass in the sand like I'd just done with Mark, but it was more fun to screw with him. Three weeks ago, my taunt would have been countered with claims that I was too cocky for my own good, but after eating dirt for the last three weeks, he was singing a different tune.

  "Okay, I'll close my eyes," I said, going for a strategy that Haniel and I had been working on. In the beginning, it was disorienting to fight with one of my senses so completely shut off, but I'd quickly learned that it only heightened my other senses.

  Shawn and Robert grinned at each other, not sure if I was serious. It wasn't that long ago that they were concerned about hurting me. Now, after landing on their backs too many times to count, they were hesitant, but wanted badly to get in at least one shot.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, letting my senses take over. My ears automatically tuned in to Shawn and Robert's whispered conversation as they discussed their plan of attack. The funny thing is they were still at a major disadvantage and didn't even realize it. With my eyes closed, the elements became my greatest ally. My ears were tuned to every subtle change in sound around me, like the sound of their clothes when they tried to strike, or the smell of their sweat, which gave away where they stood. I had to hold back a grin, knowing that this fight was over before they even thought of what lame plan of attack to use. After a moment, they had their strategy worked out. Just as I envisioned, their less-than-stealthy movements were a dead giveaway. That, combined with their heavy breathing made both of them easy prey. Without giving them a chance to finish their approach on either side of me, I struck out with my closed fist and caught Robert in the esophagus while I whipped the rest of my body around to deliver a roundhouse kick into Shawn's chest.

  I could hear Shawn grunting in pain several feet away and Robert gasping for air just to the left of me.

  "Oops, did I do that?" I asked, feigning innocence as I finally opened my eyes.

  "Damn it, that stung," Shawn whined, staggering to his feet and rubbing his chest in the process.

  "I think she freaking knocked my Adam's apple down to my stomach," Robert complained, still gasping for air.

  "Sorry, guys. It's a little harder to reign in my strength with my eyes closed," I said, taking in the boot-sized bruise that Shawn had just exposed when he pulled off his t-shirt to wipe the sweat off his face.

  "Hear that? 'Reign in her strength.' She's like the effing Terminator," Shawn grumbled, slowly making his way to the wooden staircase that led to the house.

  "Jordyn, that was something to see," Mark said with open admiration as he ruffled my hair before following behind Shawn.

  "You okay?" I asked Robert who was still sitting on the sand.

  "Peachy. I'm not sure what's more bruised: my ego or my throat that feels like a branding iron has been shoved down it. You're like an artist with that skill.

  "Like Buffy?" I teased, making him laugh. After our first day of training, the Protectors had nicknamed me "Buffy." I h
ad no idea what they meant, so I Googled the name until I came up with Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I found old episodes on Netflix and spent half the night watching six of them that first night, and became hooked. I felt an instant kinship with the fictional character as she struggled with the knowledge that she was created for a higher purpose to destroy evil. The only part of the show that bothered me was that she never seemed to get the guy. Her duties always seemed to run interference as she was forced to make a choice every time. That part I definitely related to, and I couldn't help the nagging feeling that I was seeing a glimpse into my future. My duties would always dictate the person I was and the people I surrounded myself with. I wanted to hate the responsibilities. To lash out at fate. To demand to be normal like everyone else, but in truth, I didn't hate my strength, or my ability to fight, I thrived on it. I enjoyed combat, honing my skills, and kicking ass.

  Despite that, I still couldn't erase my fascination with Emrys that had turned into actual longing in his three-week absence. Even though he deserved a kick in the ass for deserting me. I missed his easy humor, smoldering looks, and the way his touch made me feel. Like the girl Buffy in the show, I wanted it all. I wouldn't give up my gifts, but I also didn't want to give up the guy.

  "Definitely better than her," Robert said, taking the hand I offered.

  "Well, I take that as the ultimate compliment, coming from you," I said as he staggered slightly from being lifted to a standing position so quickly. "Come on, old man, I'll help you to the house," I teased, draping one of his arms around my neck.

  "You got that right," he agreed, leaning on me as we shuffled our way toward the staircase with Haniel trailing behind us, looking as smug as an archangel was allowed. "So, what season are you on?"

  "Four. That show is the bomb."