Without warning, everything around her slammed back into normal time, and Grace lurched into action. The close gnashing of teeth had her moving in Chosen speed to Darius’ bike. She didn’t think about who might see her. Nor did she care. She threw her arms around Darius, clinging to him for dear life as soon as she jumped on the back of his bike, hoping and praying he would just get them out of there. As the bike rocketed out of the parking lot, Grace’s hair whipped painfully at her face, almost cutting her skin, as she desperately looked around for Quentin. She was relieved to see him following not too far behind, and eased into Darius’ back.
Moments later, they came to an abrupt halt in front of her old house. Grace stared at the house, but Darius was quiet and didn’t move, so she jumped off. She searched his face, but it offered her no answers. “Why are we here?” she asked, pointing to the house.
Darius’ expression turned rueful, but he remained quiet. “Darius?” She pleaded for answers with her eyes, and instinctively reached for his arm. As soon as her fingers touched him, she remembered she wouldn’t be able to know what was going on by touching him, and let her hand fall to her side. Maybe he saw the Shadow Hounds and he’s just in shock, she reasoned, and reached for his arm again, hoping to calm his fears. “It’s going to be okay, Darius.”
His eyes widened slightly, and he leaned a little toward her, still on the bike. “I—”
“What’s going on?” Richard bellowed from the porch. Grace whipped her head and body in his direction just as his eyes fell on Darius. Fear filled Richard’s eyes, and a second later he was at her side, pulling her toward the house by her arm. Confusion kept her from responding to Darius’ disquiet, and to her father’s angry reaction. Her feet stumbled in the grass as she tried to peer over her shoulder for Darius. Although he held her gaze, he didn’t offer any explanation, and let her be pulled away without protest.
Tearing her eyes away, she watched Quentin rounding the corner lightning fast and screeching to a stop. “Get out of here!” he screamed at Darius as he ran past him. With Richard on one side and Quentin on the other, they rapidly muscled her through the front door. Grace still couldn’t take her eyes away from Darius and watched him drive away from over her shoulder. What just happened? her mind screamed.
“How strong are the wards here?” Quentin asked, his eyes wide as his grip tightened around Grace’s arm.
Richard continued pulling Grace along. “I just had them reinforced, but they sure as hell are nothing like the wards over at the other house,” Richard replied.
Rushing through the bathroom doors, Grace watched Richard open the linen closet and carefully slide the towels over. With a click, the secret door slid open, the cool air wrapping around Grace’s ankles. The angel torch sconces lit up in welcome, or in urgency, Grace didn’t know which. Quentin rushed in first, pulling her by the hand to ensure she was close behind.
As the door hissed and slid shut, Grace peered over her shoulder for Richard. His stare was intense and the slight smile he offered was trying. The relief that washed over her from seeing him still with them shocked her.
So much whirled around inside Grace’s head—Darius waiting for her at the school, his knowing where she used to live, his unusual silence, the Shadow Hounds, the Fallen—all of it was running circles in her mind as she dashed through the underground. A sudden realization halted her in her tracks. “What about Amanda?” Her question bounced back and forth against the walls.
Quentin stopped and came back to her. Holding her face in his hands, he held her gaze. “She’ll be fine, I promise. The Fallen are no longer at the school, they’re searching for us. And I lost them on the way here. It’s going to be okay.” The only thing she could do was nod an okay, and continue to follow Quentin through the passageways to the manor. She couldn’t respond in any other way, because she was still trying to process what had just happened. Her mouth and body were numb, but the trust she had in Quentin kept her feet moving forward.
Outside the linen closet of her grandfather’s house stood Laney and Limye. “Oh, thank God you’re okay,” Laney cried, scooping Grace up into a hug.
“Mom, I’m fine, let go.” Grace felt the reluctance in her mother’s arms as Laney released her. Laney wiped a few tears from her eyes and stepped back.
While the others interacted, mobilizing against the threat, Grace stood in the center of the chaos, watching, and trying to breathe. From the corner of her eye she saw Limye and Quentin whispering. To the side, her parents embracing. And she still stood in the center of it, almost passing out from the lack of oxygen not making it to her brain, because she still hadn’t taken a breath since she walked out of the closet.
The walls of the larger than average bathroom felt like they were closing in on her and she had to get out. With her arm stretched in front of her, she felt her way out into the office.
Quentin and Limye were there still whispering. Tired of being in the dark, her panic raked irritatingly on her nerves. “Why was Darius still at my school?”
Quentin’s gaze met Limye’s before returning to Grace. He shrugged. “Dumb luck.”
Grace stared at him in disbelief. Is he serious, she mentally shouted. She threw a clenched hand on her hip. “Okay, what about my house? How’d he know about that?” Her toe tapped in rhythm to her fastpaced heart.
Again, Quentin didn’t immediately give her his attention. Instead, he seemed put out and somewhat irritated. “I don’t know, Grace, maybe you told him and forgot, or maybe he has a friend that lives in the neighborhood that said something to him.”
She was so done with this cryptic bullshit. Briskly, she walked past them, and reached for the office door handle. With a slight turn, she faced Limye. “Why the hell are you here? Did you get a call?”
Limye held up her hands, and backed away from Grace. “Not from you, I didn’t. He called me.” Limye pointed a finger at Quentin.
Grace let go of the handle, and turned completely around. She took in a large breath, breathing in through her nose and out her mouth before speaking. “I’m sorry. Um… hi, then.” Grace waved apprehensive fingers.
The corners of Limye’s lips turned up. “Hi, Grace.” Still irritated, Grace managed to give her a sheepish smile back. Her smile broadened as she realized that Limye didn’t call her “child” this time.
“One more thing,” Grace said, looking pointedly at Quentin. “What are ‘wards’?”
The obvious tension Quentin felt held his shoulders high as he stood with his hands on his hips. He forced a breath through his nose. “It’s like an invisible cloak over an area, placed there for the protection of the people under it. Anyone with bad intentions can’t find the people the ward is protecting, so long as they stay where the wards are placed. Understand?”
“Yeah.” Grace understood and thought it was pretty cool, actually. “Like a protective bubble. Who places the wards? You?” she asked Limye.
The ropes of Limye’s hair ticktocked back and forth as she shook her head. “No.”
Grace turned her attention back to Quentin. “You?”
Quentin shook his head. “No, an Archangel.”
Surprised by his answer, Grace’s eyes went wide. “Seriously? Who?”
Quentin’s arms fell to his sides. “Gabriel.” Clearly, he didn’t want to talk specifics with her anymore. He and Limye went back to their private conversation. Gabriel, she thought with amazement, leaving the office. How freaking cool is that?
When her fingers brushed over her pocket, Grace was glad through all the chaos she’d managed to get her phone back in there before climbing on the back of Darius’ bike. Swiping her thumb across the screen, she went to the text app.
Grace: What was that?
Confusion still warred in her head, but the fact an Archangel had set a ward over her house managed to calm her nerves somewhat. She just hoped Darius would be willing to answer her questions from the safety of his smart phone screen. She didn’t expect him to reply very fast, but a s
econd later her phone buzzed.
Darius: U okay?
Grace: Yeah. Howd u know where my dad lives?
Darius: I didn’t. Tommy said u used to live there. I took a chance since it was closer.
Plausible, she guessed.
Grace: Why’d u seem so panicked to get me out of there?
Darius: Idk. A feeling I needed 2. N the look on ur face I guess.
Grace: K
Darius: Im @ wrk now. I’ll call l8r.
Grace: K
Darius: Im glad ur okay.
Grace didn’t know what to think about his perceptiveness. The whole thing, from the second she walked outside to when she got off his bike, didn’t add up. Turning her phone off, she didn’t reply to his text. She didn’t have a reason to not believe him. He’d never lied to her before. Sighing, Grace hoped this wasn’t a first.
Grace tried to stay busy until Amanda walked through the door, and worked even harder to hide her worry when she finally did. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Grace said back. “That was a long test.”
“Oh, sorry. Leah and I went to grab a quick bite.”
“Cool. How do you think you did?”
Amanda sighed and put her bag on the table in the foyer. “I think I did okay. We’ll see.”
Amanda took a few steps toward Grace, her brows drawn together in concern. “Are you okay?”
She wasn’t and she doubted she ever would be. Today was straight out of a Grimm fairy tale, and probably the first of many more like it. “I’m fine.” Inwardly, she kicked herself for telling another lie.
“Um, okay. If you need to talk, I’ll be in my room.” Amanda waited for a second, quietly watching her as if she had something to say, but seemed to think better of it before turning and going to her room.
Grace went to find some dinner, even though she didn’t feel like eating. She grabbed her cell off the counter, and wasn’t surprised to see Darius hadn’t texted her yet. Pulling leftovers from the fridge, she put some on a plate and tossed it in the microwave. A few minutes later, she sat at the island with her warmed-up food and a can of soda. Unconsciously, she ran a fork through her food, and went back to what happened earlier, imagining all of the things that could have happened. Suddenly she understood why Quentin didn’t want her going to school anymore. It wasn’t about trying to control her. It was more about protecting innocent bystanders.
Her cell didn’t buzz until hours later, when she felt settled enough to sleep. Figured.
Darius: Nite, angel face.
She stared at the innocent enough text, wondering if his rescue today was coincidental or something else? Other than the stay-away-from-this-kind-of-guy vibe she’d felt in the beginning, she’d never sensed anything from him. Ever. Her fingers tapped across the screen of her lit-up phone.
Grace: G’nite.
Darius: U want to do sumthin 2moro?
Should she even bother trying to date him, or anyone else for that matter? The Fallen would keep finding her, putting all of her friends and everyone she cared about in danger. The possibility of a lonely life, accompanied only by a sullen and uncommunicative Quentin, flashed before her eyes. If it were just the two of them, she wouldn’t last. Not when he wouldn’t talk to her.
Grace: Idk if that’s a good idea.
Darius: Y? 2day? I wont let any thing happen 2 u. Ur safe w/me. Promise.
That might be true, but he wasn’t so safe with her.
Grace: Idk.
Darius: Trust me ; )
Everything in her gut was telling her to say no, keep her distance, to keep him safe. But then in her memory she saw his eyes, and felt his kiss and his touch as he ran a thumb tenderly down her face. Painful tears pricked at her eyes. Once again acting against her better judgment, she agreed and prayed it was the right decision.
Grace: What r we doing?
Darius: Surprise. I’ll pick u up @ 6.
Even though she was apprehensive, it wasn’t enough to change her mind.
Grace: K.
Darius: Nite.
The knots in her stomach wouldn’t let up. She tossed and turned the better part of two hours. Finally, she kicked off her blankets, flung her legs over the side, and paced beside her bed, which did nothing for the ball lodged in her stomach. Everything about this afternoon was wrong. Felt wrong. So many things could have happened, but thankfully didn’t.
Her brain wouldn’t shut off. The woulda-coulda’s were going to keep her up all night. Ideas for getting to sleep were lost to her, so she tiptoed down the stairs, hoping warm milk might do the trick.
The digital clock on the microwave told her it was after midnight. Great, she was going to be out of it at school tomorrow. Coffee probably wouldn’t even help. Grace gripped the milk by the handle, and closed the refrigerator door. Her heart jumped into her throat and she nearly dropped the jug as she realized that someone had snuck in and was leaning against the counter. Quentin scared the crap out of her. “Oh my gosh, you scared me. What are you doing?”
He twisted around, took a glass from the cupboard, and handed it to her. “Sorry, I couldn’t sleep.”
“Really, why?” she asked, taking the glass from his outstretched hand.
Quentin raised an eyebrow and folded his arms across his chest. Oh, duh. She hurried and poured her milk. “Right, sorry.” Grace would never get used to someone else being able to feel what she was feeling…always.
The lights weren’t on, but the heat from Quentin’s stare tingled along the back of her neck. Since he still wasn’t really talking to her, she was too chicken to turn around. Instead, she continued leaning against the counter and focused on finishing her milk.
“Do you have plans after school tomorrow?”
Choking on the sip she just took, she coughed and turned to him. “What?”
“Do you have plans—”
“Yeah, I heard that, but why?” Grace asked, leaning her hip against the cupboards and setting the glass on the counter.
The light from the foyer cast enough illumination for her to see he was nervous. He held on to his hips and gazed down at his feet. “I thought maybe we could catch a movie or something. You know, go have some fun.”
Grace’s mouth fell open. Huh? “Well, actually, I already have plans tomorrow.”
Quentin’s shoulders visibly fell before he straightened back up. “What are you doing?”
“Not sure.” She shrugged. “Darius said it was a surprise.”
One minute Quentin was across the kitchen, the next he was standing in front of Grace. She didn’t need any ambient light to see he was pissed. Anger rolled off him in one giant wave, slamming into the barrier of her skin. “You can’t be serious. Even after today?”
Not liking his tone, or his timing in deciding to start speaking to her again, she bristled at his accusation. Her fists clenched at her side as she got back in his face. “See, that’s just it, Quentin. I don’t know what in the hell happened today. All I do know is I asked you what happened and you didn’t know either. So, what is your problem?”
“I don’t like him.”
Doing an about-face, she grabbed for her milk. “Clearly.”
His voice softened. “You need to stay away from him.”
Grace placed her glass in the sink, and turned back to him. “Why do I need to stay away from him?”
There was an edge to his voice again. “Because, just trust me.”
“Because isn’t good enough. I like him, a lot, and I’m pretty sure he likes me too.” With an exaggerated sigh, she folded her arms across her chest.
“No, he doesn’t, Grace. He’s using you.”
It took every ounce of self-control she had to not throw something at his head. Because even though she’d used those same words to try to convince Amanda to use her head, this situation was nothing like that one. It wasn’t an affair, and Darius certainly wasn’t the jackass here. “Thanks for that, but you’re wrong.” She moved to leave the kitchen, but he stepped in her way.
The light from the foyer transformed Quentin’s body into a dark-shadowed silhouette, making his anger seem more menacing. She took a step back. All she could see clearly was the fury reflecting in the whites of his eyes. It made her want to hide. “I can feel how he makes you feel. What he makes you want. I didn’t think you were like that, Grace. At least, that’s what you claimed at the party, anyway.”
There was little else he could have said that would have stung more. Something menacing and hateful roiled inside, threatening to claw its way out of her throat. Her body shivered as her feelings stormed inside. She took a purposeful step closer and pulled back her hand, prepared to slap him. Grace stood there, hand cocked, trembling with anger, but she couldn’t release her hand. She knew hitting him would only make her feel better for a second, and then she’d feel terrible. “Why is it so hard for you to believe someone would be interested in me, and care for me?” Her bottom lip began to quiver as she spoke. “Just because you don’t want anything to do with me doesn’t mean someone else won’t. And I didn’t lie, I’m not like that. But thanks for that too.”
Quentin didn’t hesitate, he took a step closer to Grace. “Is that what you think, Grace, or are you trying to rely on your special touch to tell you how I feel without asking me yourself?”
For a split second, she was caught off guard. She didn’t know he knew what she could do. Regardless, she shook it off as anger spiked inside her, pushing her up on the balls of her feet. “As a matter of fact, I do know how you feel with my special touch, by the way, that tells me enough.”
Shattered Grace (Fallen from Grace) Page 28
