Davian? Who’d have thought Ronan really had the power to command wicked spirits. “What happened after that?”
Thrill snickered, but it sounded flat. “Robert panicked. He broke up with Ronan the day after the dance, and she made his life a living hell. Called his mom and dad, crying about how much she loved him and how he hurt her. This lasted weeks. Finally, Robert’s family moved. Ronan has a way of making life miserable if she’s out to get you.” His amber eyes sought Jordan’s face.
“I don’t know how Meg found out about Ronan’s games, and man, she started a smear campaign. She began to call her a witch behind her back, telling the kids stuff that I didn’t even believe.”
He wiped his nose. “I liked Meg’s fabrication of seeing Ronan flying on a broomstick at midnight. Now that was a hoot. But Ronan didn’t think it was funny. One day, Megan tripped down the bleachers, and she blamed the witch. Some of the guys started to take Megan seriously, and gradually, kids distanced themselves from her. Megan’s family moved shortly after the New Year, which was probably a good thing, considering Ronan was out to destroy her.
“Beth was one of the first to shut Ronan out, but soon everybody did. This past year, I’ve seen a big change in her, and it’s not for the better. I’ve known her since the second grade. She was cute and nice, and then her mom died. It devastated her, and her dad kind of abandoned Ronan. He’s always on business trips and whatnot. She got bitter, hard.
“I figured playing with the Ouija board was her chance to contact her mom. It always freaked me out, especially when I’ve seen some weird stuff. Maybe Ronan is a witch. And sometimes, I almost believe Megan.” Thrill raised the water bottle and glugged the remaining contents.
Absorbing his explanation, she pitied Ronan, but thought about the poor girl with the broken nose. “Were you close with Megan?”
He gave Jordan a direct look. “Kind of. We were going out.”
BEWARE OF THE WICKED CURSE
I THOUGHT YOU’D be home by now,” Jordan whined into the cell. “It’s been over a week.”
“Father James set up meetings with specific groups, more than I imagined and all intent on sharing knowledge in these strange times,” Seeley explained. “Your father’s book has caused quite a stir. This was interesting. I talked with a holy mystic who’d foreseen demons emerging to harvest souls for the devil. She visualized darkness over the Earth then what looked like gleaming flares shooting through the darkness, dispelling it.”
Seeley sighed. “There’s hope, Jordan.”
“You sound tired. Is everything okay?”
“Fine.” Seeley’s voice vibrated. “A run-in with Trebane sort of spooked me, and a few tailing demons, but other than that, I’m good. But it’s you who should be careful. Watch your back.”
“Are you really not going to tell me about Mr. Trebane? What did he want?”
“You know Asa’s threatening tactics.” She was talking too fast. “Riling me up about your father’s deception and how the marker must be paid. Just be on the lookout for anything out of the ordinary. I don’t trust that demon Veronka.”
Was her mom being straight with her? She probably thought it’d scare the crap out of her, but Jordan didn’t frighten that easily, not anymore.
“Let’s talk about something else, like how’s school?” Seeley asked.
Jordan cringed. Her mom would flip when she found out about Ronan’s Ouija board and Davian. That uptight exchange could wait.
“School’s boring as ever.” With absolute reservation, Jordan decided to mention Markus’s appearance before her mom heard, or eventually saw him standing on their front porch. Attempting to sound like angels attend high school every day, she said, “The funniest thing has happened.” Her casual timbre wasn’t quite cutting it, but she persisted. “Markus isn’t just an angel anymore. He’s formed a human identity, and believe it or not, he’s living with Beth Schaffer’s family.”
Inadvertently, she’d alerted her mom to impending danger.
“You’re not telling me everything, are you?” Her mother’s authoritative voice was prickling.
“Mom, everything’s fine. Markus said it was easier for him to get a grip on the situation if he accompanied me to school. Kind of like a bodyguard.” Her explanation sounded full of holes, even to her.
Her mother didn’t respond.
“Mom, are you there?”
Seeley took a deep breath. “I wish I could be in two places at once. I’m canceling my last meeting. I’m leaving Quenemo in the morning. I’ll be home sooner than expected.”
JORDAN HAD SUMMARIZED their conversation to Em and Henry, who were looking forward to Seeley’s homecoming. As Em put ham sandwiches on the table, her eyes twinkled. “I noticed the nice-looking young man who drove you home from school yesterday. I hope you don’t mind, I peeked out the window when I heard a car pull in the driveway.”
“That was Thri—William McKenna. He’s a nice guy.” She used his real name since she wasn’t in the mood to explain.
Henry harrumphed. “Don’t go getting involved with any boys. You have college to look forward to.”
“Henry.” Em retorted. “Jordan’s sixteen years old, and there are some fine young men in Elma.”
Under his shaggy brow, Henry’s irascible eyes looked at Jordan, then he slowly produced a genuine smile. “You’re pretty like your mother. I’m just saying…be careful.”
Henry acknowledging that ‘be careful’ referred to certain interactions with the opposite sex that could have serious consequences. Seeley’s teen pregnancy had created resentment for his son-in-law, resentment that had not been forgotten.
Jordan chugged a glass of milk and finished her sandwich just as the doorbell rang. She jumped from her chair and opened the door to find Markus. “When was the last time you had a sparring partner?” he asked.
“Guess it’s been a while. Why?”
“I thought we’d go over to the school gym and workout.”
“The gym’s probably crowded with activities.”
“Nope, they’re cleaning for the Winter Ball,” he told her. “But Mr. Harrington, the gym teacher, said the crew would likely be done after one o’clock.”
“Well then, it’s probably locked up. How would we get in?”
An impish grin brightened his features, and he dangled a set of keys in front of her face. “Mr. Harrington supplied me with the keys. He said I looked trustworthy.”
She chuckled. “Okay then. Let me grab my coat.” She turned to dash into the kitchen and almost collided with her grandparents.
“Who’s this young man?” Em inquired, her face aglow as she stared at the flawless Markus.
She introduced him as Mark, an exchange student living with Deacon Schaffer’s family.
“Known the Schaffer’s for years, a wonderful family,” Henry complimented.
“Yes, they are,” Mark agreed.
“Sam mentioned something about an exchange student last week after church.” Henry pumped Mark’s hand. “Nice to meet you. Where are you taking my granddaughter?”
“Thought we’d go to the school gymnasium and workout with some of their weight machines, if that’s okay?”
“Of course, that’d be fine.” Em tittered like a young girl.
Jordan plowed between her grandparents, buttoning her coat. “See you in a while,” she said and noticed a green SUV parked in the driveway.
He’d unlocked the passenger side door and Jordan settled into the warm interior. Adjusting the seat belt, she saw Em and Henry flanking the doorway. While Henry appeared dubious, she didn’t miss Em’s joyful ear-to-ear grin. She waved as they pulled out of the driveway.
“Nice car.”
“It was Deacon Schaffer’s idea.”
Changing the subject, she asked, “How’d your coffee clutch with Ronan go the other day?”
He tensed a little. “I think it’s imperative we keep a close eye on her. Somehow, someway, she needs to be coaxed from indulging in h
er magical charms. I’ve deduced that her mind is crippled from years of abuse and neglect. She’s yearning for love, and because of that, for the power to control situations.”
“You got all that from a cup of coffee?” she asked, in full cynical mode.
His unique midnight blue eyes cast a reproving look in her direction. “When did you last see Father James?”
Turning her head to the side window, she shrugged. “It’s been a while.” She needed to talk to her spiritual advisor, yet the chore was more than bothersome at times.
Sunshine glittered over the windswept afternoon, but provided little warmth. Markus drove to the rear of the school, and the two of them skated on the icy pavement to the gym’s entrance. Once inside, Jordan tossed her coat on the bleachers. Shucking her wet sneakers, she frowned at a toe poking out of a fraying hole in her sock. She rolled them off and made a mental note to buy new ones.
Markus assembled padded mats and slipped off his sneakers as well. She noted his pristine white socks. Go figure. She scrutinized him. Wearing navy-blue sweatpants and a navy-blue sleeveless T, he did resemble a supermodel for a workout magazine.
“I wish I could make a sword appear out of thin air like you and Ezekiel,” she said for no specific reason.
“Try it.” Markus straightened, legs parted and hands balancing on his hips.
“What’d you mean, try it? Try what?”
“You need to stretch your mind beyond this earthly sphere. Ask, seek, and knock, and it will be given, if it is our Father’s will.”
“It doesn’t seem right to pray for a weapon.”
“Remember, we’re not playing by the rules, and killing demons is different.”
“How do I do it?” The prospect of attaining a magical weapon was awesome. “Just think about a sword or something?” she asked.
“No, more than just think.” While pushing hair off his forehead, he took a step forward, his expression indistinct. “It’ll take practice, patience, and delving into your subconscious. You need to grasp the realm outside of this dimension.”
In pursuit of a prized sword, Jordan’s hand shot in the air, her fingers itching for the presence of cold sharp steel. Dredging past mental chains on a quest to unlocking her subconscious, she lowered her eyelids, blotting out interfering sights. The ripple of energy was all around her. She felt it. She tasted it.
Meditating to an astral degree, her brain seemed to bulge from the effort. Her body or psyche seemed to shift elsewhere.
She’d expected cold, but the air circulating her fingers was hot. Opening her eyes, a distorted mirage of a short blade appeared in layers of undulating air. Her fingers clasped the hilt, passing through the image. Losing concentration, the air surrounding her hand cooled.
“That was an excellent first attempt.” Markus clapped his hands twice in praise. “Although, you looked like you were having an aneurysm.”
“You said I had to delve dee—” She never finished her sentence, perceiving his laughing eyes and pearly white teeth. “Now you’re being too human, making fun of me.”
“Sorry.” He collected himself. “Do you need to warm-up before we begin?”
“If you don’t mind. I’m not a lofty seraph.” She didn’t mean to sound crass, but it came out that way.
Bending her arms over her head, she lunged to slacken her thigh muscles. When ready, she rotated rigidly to Markus, who signaled with a finger command to begin.
“Hit me,” he ordered. “Hard as you can.”
She thought for a moment then kicked her leg swiftly at his defenseless thigh. Clamping her leg, he flipped her to the mat.
“You can do better than that.”
In a split-second decision, she scissored his ankles and rolled. She nearly toppled him to the mat, yet he recovered. Marcus slung his muscular arm across her neck, and with his other hand, he knotted her arms behind her back—always her weak point. He released her, flinging her forward again, and their sparring became a mental and physical game. Ambition scarred Jordan on the inside, and she was determined to beat him, which was preposterous on her part.
He’s a powerful angel for heavens sake.
For such a tall boy Markus feinted like a graceful willow. She tried to outmaneuver him, with some success, but she assumed he was just being kind by letting her get some licks in. Beads of sweat covered her dewy skin and dripped from the tip of her nose and chin.
Tricking Markus, she pretended to have a stunned look on her face and pointed to something behind him. While he wasn’t prepared, she socked him. He barely flinched and laughed as she shook out her hand. Prompt and accurate, she aimed her heel at his groin, which he blocked, sending her crashing to the mat.
Her arms and legs spread eagle, breathing heavily, she said, “Okay, okay, have you had enough?”
“We haven’t even begun.”
Soon after Markus’s prophetic words, growling sounds fed their ears. A bevy of demonic men and women darted forward, corralling them. As the first demon charged, Jordan’s core seemed to have a mind of its own. She did a front round off over the man, leaving him befuddled. Before he had a chance to turn, she twisted his scrawny neck like a corkscrew.
“Wow, I didn’t know I could do that.”
A she-devil simmered in the wings—her putrefying guts smelled like death. Skin hung revoltingly from her bones, and burr-holed sores swarmed with squiggly maggots. However, the creature’s deformation didn’t deter its ability to jaunt toward Jordan with outspread arms.
Jordan fanned her nose. “Pee-yew. You’re way past the expiration date.”
The thought of touching the fetid she-devil made her gag. Executing a flying kick, both feet thwacked the creature in the chest, hollowing in to her vertebrae. Ichor and maggots splattered. Jordan grimaced, squirming over the crud on her bare feet.
Markus’s voice rang out. “Jordan, get out of here!”
While Jordan dealt with the woman, the entourage had wrangled with Markus. He threw his arm above his head, instantly acquiring a heavenly weapon, the singing sword culling the soulless herd. Monstrous demons lured him farther away. Their plan became obvious when Veronka and Asa burst through the doors. Gesturing his arm toward her angel, Asa shouted, invoking a spell, Hellfire immediately surrounded Markus, caging him in eternal flames.
Temporarily diverted by the inferno and wheeling around, Jordan came face to face with Veronka. Her fist crashed into Jordan’s jaw, knocking her out.
When she came to, Veronka had her in a back-crushing hold. Hot breath brushed her neck as the demon’s chin rested on her shoulder. Jordan parted her lips and slowly moved her jawbone from side to side. The brackish tang of blood covered her tongue.
“Welcome back.” Asa’s arms were belted behind his back.
Her gaze rushed to the dancing flames imprisoning Markus. They burned nothing, but the angel could not pass them.
“Just a little hellfire to detain our friend while we speak,” Asa said.
Veronka’s secure hold gave her little room to breathe. “You killed my father,” she wheezed. “I have nothing to say to you. I wish you were dead.”
“Jordan, Jordan, you’d like to save your mother, wouldn’t you?”
“Just like you spared my father?” Her voice spewed poison. “I’d never trust you, Trebane. Never, you son-of-a-bitch.”
“What a rank mouth, my dear.” Asa’s lips bent to one side. “You and Seeley need a lesson in respect. I will succeed, at the opportune time. My power will break through your heavenly fortification”
“Jordan,” Markus hollered from the wall of flames, “you can block the fire.”
Veronka gouged knuckles into her spine, but Jordan trapped the cry of pain in her throat. She’d never give them the satisfaction.
A repugnant dry-heaving noise retched from Veronka. Her jaw obtrusively distended, allowing a python to slither from her oral cavity. The snake slunk over Jordan’s shoulder and along her chest, entangling her body and constricting. Jordan panted
for air. Her head swam as she struggled to focus on blocking the fire. Feeling faint and utterly ineffectual, she knew she was going to lose this one.
“The omen must be fulfilled.” Asa sucked air between his barred teeth, nostrils flaring. “I promised Lucifer your consecration by year’s end, the date has been settled. I’ve been waiting for your abilities to develop. With those powers, you will be an asset to our lord, don’t you think?”
His tongue lapped across his lips—out of character as the dastardly villain with his double-breasted, brushed cashmere Canali suit. Not disturbing a hair on his styled head, his manicured hands boxed Jordan’s face. Gloating eyes neared, so close Jordan was trapped in the dilating pupils.
“You will be ours, or your mother will die a slow torturous death.” His cultivated voice snagged her like an unearthly gravitational pull. “You’ll hear her screams burrowing into your brain. Screams of affliction. You will beg me to take you in her place.”
Again, Markus yelled, “Don’t listen to him.”
In vain, she tried to close her eyes, but his black orbs hypnotized her.
“Screams of agony,” he cursed. “Screams of torturous pain. Groaning screams that will fill you to the brim.”
Her mom’s raw screams seared into her brain like a branding iron. Dimly, somewhere in the background, she heard Markus.
“Close your eyes. Concentrate on someone else.”
She sank into oblivion.
JORDAN WRENCHED UPRIGHT, ready for a brawl, nearly knocking Markus in the forehead. Realizing that he held her in his arms, she looked around the room. It was cleared of fire, demons, Asa, and his sidekick, Veronka.
“What happened?”
“They left.”
“That’s good, right? Why the long face?”
“He’s cursed you.”
Wickedly They Come (The Wickedly Series Book 1) Page 9
