by Jasmine Walt
“No,” Brodie said. “Those are the Watchers. The Watchers have the potential to become Sentinels, and they raise their children with the hopes that an angel from the Celestial Realm—because those buggers are always watching—will choose one of their children to be a warrior. To fight against the darkness and all that.”
“And these warriors are the Sentinels?”
“Now yer gettin’ it. The best of the best, chosen by the angels, and gifted with soul weapons and guardians.” Brodie must have read the confusion on my face, because he continued without being prodded. “As a Druid, I’m more focused on earth energies and how to channel them, but from what I understand, once a Watcher is chosen by the angels, he or she is given two things. Their souls are imbued with celestial energy, energy that takes the shape of a weapon. It can be used to help exorcise demons, like the ones we dealt with back in the city.”
“Demons?” My mind stalled on the word. “I thought you called them Demonkin.”
“Aye,” Brodie said. “Demonkin and Sentinels are descended from the same blood, but the Demonkin serve the masters of Hell. They are a breed of Watcher that has merged their soul with that of a demon in order to gain unholy powers. The Sentinels seek out and destroy them, but they also do regular exorcisms. Ye wouldna believe how many of the crazies and evildoers in this city are actually possessed by demons.”
“Huh.” I thought about that for a moment. “So the glowing mace Lucas wielded…that’s a celestial weapon?”
“Who is Lucas?”
I gave him a brief rundown of the man who’d gotten those Demonkin to kidnap me, and what little information he’d given me. By the time I’d finished, Brodie was scowling. “I dinnae see how that would make any sense. I’ve never heard of a Sentinel working with Demonkin before.”
“Yeah, but Lucas said that he and I used to be lovers.” I bit my lip. “So if I was a Sentinel, he must have been too.”
Brodie stared at me for a long moment, as if he couldn’t believe it. “That smarmy bastard must be daft in the head to let a bonny lass like yerself walk out of his life,” he said, shaking his head. “Even more so if he wants to kill ye.”
“He said he wanted something called the Infinity Key, and he needed me to get it.” I swallowed hard. “He said that once he had it, that the two of us would rule together.”
Brodie rolled his eyes. “Megalomaniacs. Always wanting to take over the world.” He took another sip of coffee. “I dinnae ken much about Infinity Keys, lass, but they are powerful, and ’tis best not to let anyone running around with Demonkin get their filthy hands on one. If yer so important in his quest to find the key, then it’s best we make sure he doesna get to ye.”
A chill ran down my spine. I couldn’t imagine what would happen if he did get this key. “What’s the other gift you mentioned?” I asked, remembering that he hadn’t told me.
Brodie shoved the last bit of his French toast into his mouth, then chewed for a long moment. “An angel,” he finally answered. “The Celestial host assigns an angel to ye, and it is that angel who bestows yer soul weapon. As I understand it, a Sentinel’s angel is a sort of companion, who watches over ye.” A scowl crossed his handsome face. “That’s what’s got me so confused. Even if ye dinnae remember who ye are, ye should still have yer angel. Where in the Seven Realms is it?”
“Maybe I’m not a Sentinel,” I said, and the words were like a punch to the gut. Would I ever belong anywhere? “Maybe I wasn’t good enough to be chosen.”
“Nope,” he said, swigging the rest of the coffee. “The mark on your chest is supposed to be yer angel brand. At least, that’s what we were taught in the Moors. My guess is whoever stole yer memory also screwed with your brand, screwed with yer powers, and did something bad with yer angel.” He shook his head. “I dinnae ken why, though.” He set the coffee down. “Now, if yer finished, we need to get going.”
“Move?” I demanded as he began to rise out of his chair. How could he even think of leaving, when I was too stunned to do anything but gape? “Where are we going?”
“Yer a Sentinel, lass. Where else would I take ye, but to a Watchtower?”
A rush of excitement filled me. “I thought you said they were hidden?”
“They are,” he conceded. “But they tend to sprout up in populated cities, and besides, Gaia told me where to take ye.” A grin spread across his handsome face. “What better place to take an angel than to the City of Angels itself?”
8
Arabella
In the end, we didn’t drive for very long. By the time we left the diner, it was already nine o’clock in the evening. Within a few hours, I was so tired I could barely keep my eyes open. Taking pity on me, Brodie got off the interstate at Madras, and then pulled into the back lot of a dingy motel. The place didn’t look like it was fit for rats, but I didn’t have my purse on me so I couldn’t get us anything better. God, I’d left everything behind in Portland. What was I going to do without my ID and my gun?
“Give me yer hands, lass,” Brodie commanded, turning his big body in the driver’s seat to face me. The moonlight filtering in through the windshield struck the side of his face, highlighting his strong cheekbone and hard jaw in a way that was absolutely arresting.
“What for?” I asked, my pulse jumping. Something about the way the light bounced off his copper hair and made his green eyes sparkle brought an ease to me that I didn’t quite understand. Maybe I was tired. Maybe the events of the past twenty-four hours were finally getting to me. Or maybe I was just starting to trust the guy. He had saved me, pulled me from the bowels of hell, and even fed me. Shouldn’t I be nicer to him?
“What’s the matter, lass? Don’t ye trust me?” Brodie held his hands out, palm up, then beckoned me with curled fingers. I placed my hands in his own, and a tingle shot through them as his warm, rough skin met mine. The strength in those big hands was obvious, and yet he was so gentle as he wrapped his fingers around mine.
“Don’t be scared,” he murmured as the tingling sensation grew, spreading throughout my entire body.
“I’m not,” I said slowly, my voice sounding very far away. It was as if those deep eyes were putting me in a trance. I felt as if I were floating, without a single care in the world. “What are you doing?”
“Healing ye,” Brodie said gently. “I did some while ye were asleep, but I was low on energy from not eating so I didn’t get it all. Can’t ye feel it? All those bruises and scrapes that bastard put ye through, they’re gone now. Like they never happened.”
A wave of soothing energy passed through me, and I let out a moan of relief. My body trembled a little, but for once, it was in a good way. Whatever Brodie was doing to me, it was amazing. I felt better, stronger, newer. Almost as if the accident had never happened.
“Thank you,” I said when the sensation passed. I left my hands in his even though I knew I ought to pull away. Those warm, strong fingers felt good wrapped against mine—comforting and… more.
“Don’t mention it, lass,” Brodie answered. His forefinger traced the back of my left palm, sending a whole different kind of tingle through me. “Just another trick in my Druid bag.”
“You got any other tricks I should know about?” I asked coyly. Damn, I was actually flirting with him.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” That seductive smirk curved his lips, making my stomach flip-flop. Suddenly, I wanted to run my hands up those muscular arms to see just how far those tattoos went. Did they continue over his chest, beneath his shirt? I licked my lips at the thought of lifting the hem of his cotton tee to find out.
Brodie’s nostrils flared, as if he could scent the change in my mood. He drifted closer, and I held my breath as the air between us heated. Those emerald eyes dipped to my now-wet lips, and my heart stuttered. God, was he actually going to kiss me?
“It’s late,” he said, and my heart sank in disappointment as he pulled away. “Why don’t ye stay here in the car, where it’s warm, while I get us som
e rooms for the night?”
“Okay.” I fell mute as he squeezed my hand. Once he left the vehicle, I watched him walk around the building toward the front office, my heart a jumbled mess of emotions. Jesus, did he have to walk with such a sexy swagger? My eyes were glued to his back… or more specifically, his backside. Buns of steel poured into denim, they were just begging for a squeeze.
You’re being ridiculous, I told myself. I didn’t understand why I couldn’t keep my mind of Brodie’s delicious body.
It’s probably the stress, I decided. Yeah, that made sense. I’d been through so much today, seen so many crazy and terrifying things, that my mind was latching onto something pleasurable to distract it. And oh, I just bet Brodie would do a great job of distracting me if I asked.
Then why did he pull away? a doubtful voice in my head asked. He felt the chemistry too—it was obvious. So why did he choose not to act on it?
My heart twisted a little at that. Maybe he’s the honorable sort, I thought. He was here to protect me, so maybe that was why he wouldn’t sleep with me. Just because he made that joke in the diner didn’t mean he was actually going to act on it.
The door opened, and I started. “I’m afraid there’s but one room, lass,” Brodie said, leaning inside the car. The cold evening air breezed in with him, surrounding me with his earthy, masculine scent, and I sat up straighter. “We’re going to have to share for the night.”
I shrugged, as if the thought of spending the night with Brodie didn’t send a bolt of heat through me. “I’m fine with sleeping on the floor,” I told him as I got out of the car.
“Ye’ll do no such thing,” Brodie insisted as he escorted me to our room. My lips twitched—he sounded highly offended. “Just what kind of man do ye think I am?”
“A scoundrel,” I declared as he unlocked the door. “And an unapologetic one at that.”
He laughed as we entered the room. As I’d suspected, it only had one bed, with a small couch next to the dresser that doubled as a TV stand. The carpet was threadbare, and the walls stained with a yellowish tint from too many cigarettes smoked. There was a narrow closet toward the back of the room. Across from that, there was a bathroom with cracked floor tiles and towels that were fraying at the ends. Jeez, was it even legal to provide such crummy service?
“Are ye planning on showering now, lass, or can I jump in there?” Brodie called from the bedroom.
“Uh, sure. I tend to take long showers, so you should go first.” I dropped the towel, then stepped out of the bathroom just in time to see Brodie stripping his shirt off. My mouth went dry as he rolled the black cotton tee up to reveal a hard, defined six pack, but any desire evaporated at the sight of the huge, purple bruise across it.
“Is that because of me?” I asked, my stomach squirming with guilt. I hadn’t even considered that he might be injured.
Brodie paused, glancing down at the bruise. “Aye,” he said, and my stomach plummeted. “Must have been during our bout in the forest. Ye’ve quite a wallop on ye.”
I shook my head. “I’m not that strong.”
Brodie finished stripping off his shirt. His muscular body gleamed in the dim lamplight, and the shadows only seemed to heighten the contours of his honed physique. The tattoos on his arms swirled up across his shoulders and over his pectoral muscles, drawing my attention to his broad, defined chest. I wanted to flatten my palms against it, to glide them up and down the ridges of muscle, then trace those gleaming tattoos with my fingertips. Instead, I curled my now-twitching fingers to keep myself from giving into temptation.
“Yer Watcher blood makes ye stronger and faster than the average human,” Brodie told me. “Did ye never notice that ye were different from others?”
I frowned. Suddenly, Brodie was standing in front of me, waving a hand in front of my face. “Hello? Lass, can ye hear me?”
“Sorry.” I stumbled back into the dresser, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
“Are ye all right?” Brodie grabbed me by the shoulders, steadying me. He studied me intently, his features taut with concern. “Ye seemed to disappear on me there for a moment, lass.”
The heat from his hands seeped into my body, soothing me, and I let out a breath. “Yeah. I get these… episodes, sometimes, where I blank out. They’re called absence seizures.”
He frowned. “I’ve never heard of such a thing. Do they last long?”
I shook my head. “I never know how much time passes, but I’ve been told by others that they’ve never seen me blank out for more than three minutes.” I hesitated. “How long was I out?”
“A good five minutes.” Brodie stepped back, crossing his arms over his chest. “Is there any sort of commonality associated with these seizures of yours?”
I shrugged. “Stress, I guess.” The doctors hadn’t been able to figure it out beyond that. And I certainly was stressed out. Uncomfortable, I changed the subject. “Why didn’t you heal yourself?”
“Eh?” Brodie blinked, and then laughed softly. “We’re still on the bruise, eh? It doesna hurt very much, lass, and besides, I cannae heal myself. That talent can only be used on others.”
“What about those healing patches you brought?”
“Those are for emergencies,” Brodie said. “I used that one on ye earlier because I wanted to conserve my magic at the time. And I’d prefer to save the rest for a broken bone or some other such thing. Dinnae worry about me, lass,” he said, his tone gentling. “I’ve suffered worse. Why don’t we put the TV on, and ye can relax while I shower and change?”
Brodie picked up the remote and switched on the TV. I turned around to look at it, then stiffened as the local news blared to life. Fire trucks gathered around a two-story house in the suburbs of Portland that was completely ablaze. A house that looked way too familiar.
“My house,” I choked out, tears springing to my eyes. “My house is on fire.”
“Oh, lass.” Brodie’s arms came around me from behind. “I’m sorry. They must have gone there to find ye.”
We watched silently for a few moments. The fire was being broadcast live—it had started only thirty minutes ago. Tears streamed down my face as I watched the place I’d grown up in, the place I’d lived with my parents, crumble into ashes. My childhood home, my inheritance, and all my belongings, were gone. Forever.
And I wasn’t even there to try and save it.
“We have to go back.” I spun around, breaking free of Brodie’s grip. “I can’t leave like this. Get your keys—we’re leaving.”
“Lass!” Brodie grabbed my arm as I stormed past, spinning me back around. “There’s nothing to go back to! Yer house is beyond saving.”
“You don’t know that!” Fury burned up every bit of rational thought, and I railed against him, trying to break his grip. “Let go of me, asshole!”
Brodie only pulled me tighter against him. “If ye go back there,” he murmured into my hair as I struggled, “the Demonkin will be waiting. Yer parents would not want ye to come back only to give up yer life.”
I stilled, my anger subsiding a little at the thought of my parents. Oh, how I wished they were here to tell me what to do! My defenses crumbled, and I dissolved into tears. Brodie stroked my head and held me as I cried, murmuring soothing words even as I soaked his bare skin with my tears.
“There, there, lass,” he said as my tears finally slowed. His big hands rubbed slow circles up and down my back. “Yer all right. Everything will be okay.” He scooped me into his arms, then carried me toward the bed. My arms tightened around his neck as he lowered me onto the mattress—I didn’t want to let him go. “Dinnae worry,” he said gently, his warm breath ghosting against my cheek. “I won’t be far. You rest now.”
And so I did, turning my face into the pillow and willing my dreams to take me away from this nightmare.
9
Arabella
Something dark slid sinuously along the edge of my mind, sending a chill through me. Part of me knew I should pay
attention to it, but I was so tired that I turned my face into the pillow, willing myself to sink back into unconsciousness. God, but why couldn’t I sleep in peace? A few more hours… I just needed a few more hours.
“Lass! Lass, wake up!”
I jolted awake at the sound of Brodie’s voice, which was rife with urgency. He was squatted down at the edge of the bed in front of me, his face tense. “There are Demonkin out in the parking lot,” he whispered, handing me a sheathed hunting knife. “Ye aren’t equipped to deal with them yet, so keep this close to ye and let me handle—”
The door burst open, and a dark-haired man with glowing red eyes dressed in black charged in. Black lightning crackled from his hands, and Brodie raised his already-glowing arms to block. He ducked low, then blasted the man with a ball of green magic. The Demonkin blocked the blow with his own sword, and I rolled off the edge of the bed and onto the floor just in time to avoid getting struck.
Shit! I’ve got to get out of here, I thought, my mind racing as I peered over the edge of the bed. The two men were locked in a fierce battle, their swords clanging so loudly that I expected the other guests to come rushing out. A lamp went crashing to the ground, a chair tumbling, and I knew it was only a matter of time before the entire room was trashed beyond repair.
A second Demonkin crashed through the window then, tucked into a ball, arms shielding his face as he cleared the barrier of glass and metal in a move that should have been impossible—the window was double paned. Fear seized me, and I didn’t think—the hunting knife flew from my hand. The next thing I knew it was sticking out of the Demonkin’s sternum. The man gaped at me, his glowing red irises fading to human blue, then collapsed on the ground, his lifeblood bleeding out underneath him.
The other Demonkin let out a howl of rage, and I turned back just in time to see Brodie gut him with another knife. The man’s death cry echoed through the room, and, like the other man, his bloody eyes also faded back to a normal color before they went lifeless.
