by TW Knight
He stopped outside his sister's quarters, took a deep breath to settle his thoughts. Bree was the logical one. She understood all the nonsense. Hell, she could probably find references in her studies. Sam snorted a laugh envisioning his sister using a book to smack him upside the head as she reminded him, loudly, that they had been fighting demons for ten years, so why couldn't there be angels and unicorns and leprechauns.
He didn't want to admit it, but there was truth in everything these strangers told them. He couldn't explain the how or why, but he'd heard their words as much with his heart as he had with his ears.
He also knew they were going to take Bree away from him.
The idea broke the calm he'd achieved.
"No." Sam growled and kicked open the door. "I am not going to allow you to be bound to that lunatic for the rest of your life!"
His sister looked up from the tearful embrace she shared with the woman named Cassidy. "Sam?" She blinked back tears and took a step toward him.
"You." Sam pointed at Cassidy. "Get out. I want to talk to my sister."
"Sam, don't be so rude."
"It's okay." Cassidy patted her shoulder and stepped past Sam. "When you settle down, the two of you should come back out and we'll finish talking." With a nod to Bree, she shut the door.
"Great, Sam, just piss off the only person who understands what I'm going through." Bree shot him a look filled with ice, and plopped into the chair next to the cot.
Sam forked his fingers through his already disheveled hair. "I want to believe this. I do. But... God damn it, Breanna. Do you really believe that you're some sort of vessel for an angel's soul?"
Bree looked at her boots. She was stalling. When she finally answered him, she kept her eyes down. "Yes, Sam, I do. I can feel it, in here." She tapped her chest. "I know it sounds weird, but I can feel the connection to him." Patting Bass' arm, she smiled. "I think I've felt it for a long time."
"Well, I don't feel connected to him," Sam said. "We're twins, shouldn't I feel something too?"
"I don't think it works that way. Besides, Cassidy said that Rail confirmed you weren't a soul-keeper." His sister laughed a little and looked up. "Maybe you're secretly a Fallen Angel— you certainly act like that Hogart."
"I'm nothing like him," Sam snapped. Judging from the hard, steady look in his sister's eyes, she meant it. Yeah, sure, he was hot headed, quick to act, and at times violent. He had a hard time controlling his emotions. "Who cares if I like fighting demons? It's not like I'm killing people." When Breanna made no comment, Sam met her gaze. "Okay. Maybe I am like him. A little." It wasn't a far stretch to picture himself tearing into a building to save his sister.
"How is Hogart doing, anyway?"
"Calmer. He said, the heavenly light of the chosen has healed his mind. Whatever the hell that means." He shrugged and sat on the footlocker.
"That's right," Bree said. "You missed that part while you were out."
Sam rubbed the back of his head. It still ached. He should be laid out nursing a concussion. Instead, he'd come to, feeling a little drunk and tasting sweet wine on his tongue. But it didn't make sense. Why would they give someone with a head injury wine? "Hey did you give me something to drink while I was out?"
"Uh, about that."
Sam's heart took off racing when his sister's face paled. "What? What was it? What did you let those freaks give me?"
"Now just calm down." She stood and edged away from him.
"Bree."
"You had a severe concussion and Cassidy assured me that there wouldn't be any side effects other then you getting a little tipsy."
"What did you do?"
"And you seemed fine while we were talking." Bree moved a few more steps to the side.
"What. Did. You. Do?"
Bree took another step toward the door. "Hogart gave you some of his blood."
Bree dashed from the room long before the neurons in Sam's brain grasped what she'd said. "Blood?" Reality hit him like a truck and he was hot on her heels. "You let them give me blood!"
How in God's name could she be so stupid? Didn't she consider the implications? Hell, forget STD's, HIV, hepatitis, and a slew of other things. Blood was a bonding agent in just about every demonic ritual he knew.
Halfway across the hanger to where his sister sought protection with strangers, Sam stopped. She'd bonded him to a demon.
"God, Bree. What have you done?"
"She did what any sister would do." Boomer stomped forward and popped him one in the face. "She gave us permission to save your sorry ass."
"Hey!" Bree stormed forward. "You didn't need to hit him."
Boomer cast a curious look over his shoulder. "You sure?"
Sam sputtered. He leapt to his feet and swiped away the blood running from his split lip. "You bound me to a demon," he shouted at his sister. Rage built in his chest, squeezing his heart, threatening to explode.
"If you're not a soul-keeper, then there's no bond," Boomer interjected, placing himself between the siblings. "And we are not demons. Well, not entirely demon, or angel, for that matter—"
"Boomer," Rail snapped. "Stop talking."
"Yeah, yeah, forced Fallen Angels. Potato-potahtoe." Sam shoved the big man back a step.
As Boomer raised his fist again, Hogart pulled Sam to the side by the scruff of his neck. "No more."
Sam balked at being treated like a helpless child. "I don't need you to protect me."
"Yes, you do." Hogart's steel grey eyes pinned him place with their intensity "You are in more danger now."
"How so?" Sam crossed his arms over his chest and slid a glare over the warrior's shoulder to catch his sister's eyes.
"If the one called Bass was awake, you would be in need of more healing than just to your lip," Hogart answered matter-of-factly. "It is the way of things. It's instinct. They'll protect their Aktura, their soul-keepers, be it from insult or injury. It would not matter that you are siblings."
"I can testify to that." Cassidy laughed. "They have a serious over protective thing going on."
"Sam, I'm sorry. But you're all I have left. Damn it, I did what I thought I had to do to help you." Bree's voice hitched.
Sam's anger cooled as though he'd been tossed out in the snow. Naked.
With a heavy sigh, he threw up his hands in surrender. "Okay. Whatever."
"Good. Now that that's over," Rail interrupted. "Can we sit down and resume our discussion about what all of this means to the two of you?"
"Do I have a choice?" Sam crossed his arms over his chest.
"Not really."
***
The group once again convened around a fire built inside an oil drum and took up seats on whatever they dragged into a loose circle. Sam accepted a second cup of coffee while he worked through the information. At least his lip stopped throbbing. "Okay, I get all the kicked out of Heaven and being forced to protect humanity stuff— but I'm still lost on all of this soul-keeper bonded stuff. I mean, why are you here now? Why didn't you come for Bree when we were born?"
"We don't know who our soul-keepers are until after we meet them," Rail supplied.
"That's pretty stupid." Sam sipped his coffee, wincing when the hot mug touched his lip. "Wait. Hogart's been following us for years. How did he know?"
"I found you by accident while hunting demons." Hogart looked sheepishly at his own mug of caffeine.
"Demons." Sam's breath caught. Memories he'd locked away slammed to the front of his brain like a stampede. A large reptilian rhinoceros crashing through the front window. Claws tearing apart his father. His mother forcing them up the stairs. He'd grabbed for her hand, but the beast dragged her back into the living room, leaving Sam holding air. It all came back to him in a storm— screaming, the scent of blood and sulfur. Breanna crying, screaming, straining to get past him to help their parents. An angry roar. More breaking glass. A giant shadow. The smell of death. A rough voice ordering him to take his sister upstairs and hide. A face emerg
ing from the horror of that night. A face he'd come to associate with the attempted abduction. A face in the shadows signaling their stalker had found them again.
The same face staring at him from across the fire pit.
The coffee mug hit the concrete floor and shattered, spraying Sam's boots with liquid. "You." He jabbed a finger at Hogart. "It was you that night. You fought with those monsters. You made everything vanish before the police got there."
Hogart set his mug aside. "Yes." The big warrior slumped, looking truly ashamed. "I found those creatures skulking about your neighborhood. I knew that if they were in the area there also had to be an Aktura nearby. I will never forgive myself for not arriving in time to save your parents." He lifted his eyes and met Sam's angry stare. "When I realized that it was one of you who were the Aktura, I decided that I would watch over you. Your own personal guardian angel." He smiled somberly. "And after your grandparents passed on, I was worried that you would be lost, so I decided to take you into my care."
"I remember that. You tried to kidnap me and take me away from Bree," Sam retorted.
"I was confused as to if the Aktura was you or your sister, the resonance was so strong. I took the chance that it was you."
“You would have left her alone. Unprotected,” Sam all but growled.
“Yes.” Hogart bowed his head.
Bree turned away from the warrior to face the others. "What does he mean by resonance?"
Rail stood and paced around the circle. "The resonance is what we feel when we are near a soul-keeper. The closer we get, the stronger it is. Like a tuning fork inside us. Once we touch the person who holds our soul, the resonance becomes like a ringing bell deep inside." He smiled lovingly at Cassidy as he patted his sternum. "Unfortunately we can't find these resonances and follow them to the Aktura until we accidently come across them. Like a hunting dog stumbling across a scent trail. You're the first soul keeper that we've actually searched for."
"That doesn't make sense," Bree huffed. "If you know we're out there, why aren't you looking for us?"
"Why would we," Boomer asked, wrinkling his brow.
Rail shook his head. A giggle slipped from Cassidy.
"What's so funny?" Sam looked at them like they lost their minds until he noticed the blank look Boomer gave them. Hogart continued staring off into space, as he had most of the conversation.
"That's why." Cassidy pointed to Boomer. "And if Bass was here, he'd have the same blank expression."
"It seems that when we were forced out of Heaven, a compulsion was placed on us to keep us from actively searching for our Aktura," Rail added.
Cassidy snorted another giggle. "They don't even realize that they've tuned out. So far Rail is the only one who's immune."
Boomer blinked a few times as though nothing changed.
"I see what you mean." Bree giggled a little herself. "What makes Rail different?"
"Cassidy," he said with a great deal of affection. "We're the only known soul-mated angel and Aktura."
Hogart snorted, giving Cassidy and Rail a knowing look.
Sam waited, and after a prolonged silence decided he wasn't going to get an answer. Turning his attention back to Rail, he asked, "What does you and Cassidy being different mean for me and Breanna?"
"Nothing." Rail returned to his seat without another word.
"Is that why you were able to search for us?" Bree knelt, picking up the broken mug at Sam's feet. "You said we were the first."
"Partially. Cassidy wrote a computer program to predict likely areas where Aktura live based on past and current animal attacks, strange disappearances, and unsolved murders."
Next to Rail, Cassidy rolled her eyes. "It's a little more complicated than that, but in this case, we had a large volume of attacks from this area to base the search on. In fact, we had a group near here investigating a reported bear attack not too long ago."
Sam tensed. He should have packed up Bree and moved the minute the villagers mentioned the strangers snooping around after the hunter's deaths. The idea he and his sister were somehow pawns in a universal game of hide-seek-and-kill gnawed at him. "Hurray, you found us, good for you. Now what?"
"Now," Rail started slowly. "You two have some choices to make."
***
Hogart sipped his coffee, watching the others over the mug's rim. No one had noticed he did not seem to be affected by the so-called compulsion Cassidy mentioned.
Good. From what little he'd gleaned about them, these Outcasts of Heaven didn't suspect his true identity. Yet.
Soon enough they would work it out and ask questions.
He shoved the thought aside. He'd deal with them when the time came.
For now, he observed the twins and their reactions to what the others told them.
Hogart may have watched the children grow up, but knew little about them. The boy was strong, intelligent, and hot-headed. A boiling kettle ready to burst. He'd watched him learn to use the sword and hone his body into a weapon, a protector of innocents. A guardian for his sister. It was obvious to Hogart Sam suffered emotionally from losing his parents and not having a strong mentor in his life.
As for the girl, she'd followed her brother's lead, becoming a strong warrior, but her gift was an open heart and mind, and a calm spirit.
He blew into his coffee, watching the steam rise. The fog in his mind lifted thanks to the Heavenly Light brought by the soul-mated pair. He saw things clearly for the first time in forever. More importantly, his anger was in check. Their very presence was a soothing balm to his wounded mind.
He still didn't comprehend why these two young humans were so important to him, but Sam couldn't be separated from his sister. He'd been wrong to try.
It was a good thing, if he thought about it. Both would be protected for the rest of their lives. Breanna would see to it.
These warriors, brothers of the old world, were good men. And it would be good to rest awhile now that the twins were safe.
A whisper tugged at the back of his mind. A glimmer of a thought he needed to remember. A hint to why he was in that particular neighborhood on that horrible night. But he couldn't catch it. Shaking the feeling away, Hogart returned his attention to the conversations around him.
Chapter Eight
"A tropical island!" Breanna shivered. Excitement pulsed through her. "Please tell me you're not joking."
"No joke." Cassidy laughed. "And the weather is perfect three–hundred and fifty–five days of the year. Or so I'm told. I think I'm only on day three–twenty–one."
"No." Sam stood and paced around the space, fingers raking his hair. "I am not going to be locked away all safe and protected like some little kid while those monsters are still running around loose in the world killing people." He threw up his hands, vibrating with frustration, and stormed off, slamming the door to his room as soon as he stepped inside.
Grumbling, Hogart stood and stretched. "I'll speak with him. I think I understand how he feels."
Bree placed a hand on his arm as he passed. "He'll yell and throw things, but don't let him try to bully you."
Hogart's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "Bully me? You must be making a jest, little one."
"No, I'm not. Sam's gotten full of himself these last couple of years. He thinks that fighting these things gives him the right to act like he's Master of the Universe."
"Does he act this way with you?"
"All the time." Breanna shrugged. "Then I smack him upside the head. He pouts for a bit, calms down, and all is right again."
The big man nodded, patted the top of her head, and strode off to the office.
"Oh well, his head for not believing me." Breanna sighed. Rail snorted a laugh. "Tell me more about this island."
***
Sam wanted nothing more than to throw something, but all his packs were in the hanger. "God damn it." He growled and set his sights on the cot.
"The Creator is not to blame for your bad attitude, young man."
"I didn't sneak. I walked in. It was you who were unobservant of your surroundings."
"Whatever. Don't do it again. I don't trust you, no matter what Bree says. What do you want?"
Hogart adjusted his fur cloak around him and took a seat on the floor. "We need to talk."
"Talk, talk, talk! That's all you guys seem to do. When do you ever have time to fight?" Sam glared at the supposed Fallen Angel— still a demon in his book. '' His body hummed as if he had an angry hornet's nest inside him. He opened and closed his hands in tight fists, making his knuckles crack. He only got that twitchy feeling around the other-worldly shadows haunting him.
Yet, despite the man he'd feared for half his life sitting calmly in front of him exuding power like a raging thunderstorm, Sam felt safe. Safer than he'd ever felt since before his parent's deaths. Exhaustion swept over him like a wave.
Running his hands through his hair, Sam sat on his cot and took a moment to study his guest.
The man was huge. Which based on the other three guys, seemed to be a prerequisite for these so-called Knights. None of them stood less than six foot six and probably weighed in at about two–twenty to two–fifty of solid muscle. Unlike the others, Hogart appeared to have come from another time, speaking in a distinct accent and wearing furs instead of dark tee shirts and jeans. Everything about him was silver grey, from the furs matching his long hair to the deep metallic hematite color of his irises.
His unblinking gaze gave Sam the impression Hogart possessed the power to look into his soul.
Not a comforting thought.
"What's up with the furs? Don't they have regular clothes where you come from?" Sam shifted uncomfortably as Hogart continued to stare.
"I have been living in the wilds. The furs suited me better."
"Okay. What about the crazy bird tattoo?"
"Have you ever heard of Odin?"
